Page 161 of Devil's Deal

He looks so peaceful. Happy. His eyes are warm, forehead smooth, his sensuous mouth soft with a playful smile. He looks years younger and so beautiful, I want to etch him in a piece of wood so I can see him like this forever.

When I stare for too long, Woland frowns, breaking the spell.

“What is it?”

I look away, swallowing the flood of emotions that tighten my throat. “Nothing. Just… Thank you.”

He huffs softly, and when I glance up, his forehead is smooth again, his face peaceful. Something twists in my chest, a longing so strong, it’s like physical pain. I try to burrow deeper into his shadows, but they don’t ease this ache.

I don’t even know what hurts so much.

“We have a bit more time today,” he says, lying down behind me.

His shadows let him in, and he curls tightly around my back, cradling me against his body. He puts his arm under my head, and it’s infinitely more comfortable than the blackened moss. I sigh deeply. He is solid and safe, and when he lays a careful hand on my belly, a wave of warmth radiates into me until the last traces of my pain dissipate.

He smells so familiar, like smoke and musk, and I breathe him in with pleasure. It shames me that I enjoy his presence and closeness so much. It feels like a betrayal of all the people he killed, but in my current state, I don’t have the strength to push him away.

“Haven’t you considered you don’t need to own me? I might have done everything you wanted if you were nice to me from the start,” I say sleepily, snuggling into him. “No need to claim me, just ask.”

“It’s not that simple,” he sighs. “But I have ruminated on all the mistakes I made with you at length, if that helps.”

I laugh softly. “So you admit you made mistakes.”

“Many. I have extensive plans for making it up to you once we’re all safe and the war is over.”

I curl my fingers around his hand and match my breathing to his calm rhythm. We lie in silence for some time, but sleep eludes me. I am deeply aware that we are on borrowed time. It’s like we both decided on a truce today, but like he says, there is a war, and it seems our conflict won’t be over until there is peace again. Or maybe not even then.

“Can you tell me what that war is about?” I ask, remembering he said it wasn’t like mortal fights over fertile land.

“What all big wars are about,” he rumbles, pressing himself more firmly into me. “Those who rule want to keep ruling, those in power are greedy for more, and those who are exploited rebel and fight for their lives. It’s about greed and survival, and it won’t be over until we win.”

I ponder it for a while and snicker. “Which side are you on, just to be clear? Because you seem pretty powerful to me. Are you the one exploiting? Or exploited?”

He laughs softly, his chest vibrating at my back.

“I will tell you a secret, poppy girl. I am both.”

I frown, about to ask him to clarify, but his hand slides lower down. He hikes up my dress and gently pets the hair between my legs, and I sigh, feeling him grow hard against the back of my thigh.

“I still owe you that orgasm,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head.

I purse my lips, annoyance mixing with arousal in my belly. It’s an unpleasant shock when I realize how much I still want him, and for a moment, I consider pushing him away. He hurt me in ways I can never forgive.

And yet, if I am going to use him to try to free my magic, I have to let him do what he will. It certainly doesn’t hurt that I want him, too. And my ulterior motive helps me justify lying with the murderer who destroyed my life.

“No, you owe me an explanation. What else does this mark do apart from killing plants and people?” I ask, letting him touch me.

Diwa said he never marked a person, though she might be wrong. But I don’t want to assume. Before I met the rusalkas, I was convinced it was a kind of curse meant to spread evil, yet now I suspect it might be more.

Woland keeps playing with my curls but doesn’t venture further. He hums in thought, his warm breath settling on my scalp.

“It’s a kind of claim,” he says at length. “And a warning, which you already know. Incidentally, I have no qualms about letting Chors see what I do to you. He deserves an eyeful after he dared to mark you.”

So he heard my conversation with the rusalkas. I’m not even angry, just amused, especially when I remember the ridiculous things Wisla said about him. “In love.” She was the funny one, not me.

“And do you pine after my pussy?” I ask with a snort of laughter.

His fingers dip between my legs, gently teasing my lower lips apart. “Every day.”

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