Page 173 of Devil's Deal

“What do I have to do with it?” I ask.

He laughs softly. “Nothing and everything.”

“If this is your answer, I swear, I’ll find a way to cut off your cock,” I growl.

He snorts with amusement, and for a moment, everything is like it used to. But then Woland shifts slightly, his length jostling inside me, his thorns tugging, and I’m back to the cold reality of his betrayal.

“Nyja is a Nawie goddess,” he answers. It’s neither here nor there, but I let him continue. “Weles is neutral, but he allows his gods to pick a side, and Nyja fights against Perun. She is also a seer. A very powerful one. After we found out about Perun’s plans regarding the mortal word, she said a prophecy.”

I shiver again. His fingers spasm against me, but he keeps his hand still.

“What prophecy?”

“About a young woman,” he answers, his voice soft. “A young mortal woman who wasn’t supposed to be alive. A woman with a sign on her forehead saying she was destined to die at twelve, yet was far over that age, alive and walking. A beautiful, cunning woman who didn’t have an ancestral soul and so, had an affinity for magic.”

Goosebumps break out over my back and I blink, staring at his smooth dark skin in front of me, my mind whirring. It all sounds right, if preposterous, apart from the last bit.

“Doesn’t have an ancestral soul?” I ask, incredulous. “How is that possible? You said Perun gives them to every mortal when they are still in their mothers’ wombs. So how come she doesn’t have one?”

He hums in thought. “It’s rare but not unheard of. I believe I mentioned mamunas. They and a couple of other kinds of bies steal ancestral souls for power. They attack storks, because once a soul is embedded, it’s impossible to remove it until a mortal dies. So it’s likely your soul got stolen in transit. That’s why you were born without one.”

His fingers twitch again, like he badly wants to do something but holds back.

“That’s why you’re pure.”

Pure. Such a strange word to denote what I am: a witch, a bringer of death, the devil’s wronged lover.

“How do you know that I don’t have it? How do you know it’s me?” I ask.

He shifts again, and my body reacts, my core squeezing him harder. I curse, hating myself. He hisses in a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep still,” he says through clenched teeth.

And I am confused again. It’s like he can’t help but be nice to me, but whatever his reason, I don’t fall for it. He’ll only hurt me again.

“How?” I repeat my question.

“Because you could do magic after I gave you my blood,” he says. “An ancestral soul would block that ability. And because you could hear Wiosna, who, incidentally, was also born without an ancestral soul. Many people like you drift toward whispering, because it’s the only way you’re allowed to express your gifts.”

Gifts. I remember the spells Wiosna did, her irreverent, often whispered criticisms of our village life and the gods. And then I think about what she told me about the stork that supposedly brought my soul. How alarmed it looked, ruffling its feathers. Maybe it had been attacked, its package stolen.

And then, my magic. How it manifested. How strong it was. How she had to seal it away, because it kept bubbling out.

Woland doesn’t let me think long, speaking more.

“But the first sign and my final confirmation was when you entered our sacred circle. No other mortal can do that. Ancestral souls won’t let them pass.”

My breath hitches. So that’s why Bogna couldn’t enter the circle that night.

“You knew since then,” I whisper. “But why… Why did you even come to our Kupala Night? Why was Nyja there? And the others?”

He releases a long, tired breath.

“You did a spell that day. You called on Weles’ name. We were on the lookout for our prophesied mortal, so we took a close look at each of you who did magic. You called our attention with that spell, and then Dola, the Rodzanica you met, looked at you and saw your destiny written on your forehead.”

“And it said I was supposed to die at twelve,” I murmur, desperately trying to put it all together.

“Yes.” He sighs deeply, his chest expanding against my cheek. “Will you tell me what happened? Were you in danger? Did someone hurt you?”

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