Page 27 of Devil's Deal

“No.”

He stills completely, even his breath stopping. His body is still curled intimately around me, the tips of his fingers reaching just past my pubic bone. After a heavy pause, he repeats after me.

“No?” He sounds stunned and unnerved and some of my arousal scatters when heady triumph takes over its place.

I shocked the devil. Surely, that’s a victory.

But then, my self-satisfaction wobbles and blinks out when Woland snarls in fury and pushes me away so hard, I fall to the ground. I look up as he advances on me, black hooves digging into the earth. He grips my throat and raises me so high, only the tips of my toes graze the grass.

“You dare to tell me no?”

I grip his palm and dig my nails into his flesh, but it’s useless. I can’t make him let go. So I choke in silence, looking into his furious yellow eyes, his snarling breaths hot on my lips. His face is twisted in wrath and looks beastly where moments ago, I thought of it as handsome, or even more, the most beautiful in the world.

But that was all a lie. This is reality. And it’s hideous.

Darkness creeps into the edges of my vision, and Woland flings me away with a snarl of disgust. I land in the grass again, wheezing through my battered throat. He huffs, stomping hard with his hooves, and then straightens, throwing his head back.

A furious, agonizingly loud roar splits the air. I cover my ears and cower down in the grass, begging any gods that hear me for this to be over. After a few frenetic heartbeats, it is.

Woland stomps closer and yanks me up by my hand.

“Let go!” I cry out when pain slices through my shoulder.

He doesn’t. His lip curls in a sneer, and he flicks a poppy off my chaplet until it vanishes in the swirling darkness of his shadows at the edge of our enclave. When I cry out in protest, he grips my hand harder and lowers his face to mine so we’re eye to eye. I flinch, terror roiling in my gut.

“You will obey me, poppy girl,” he says mockingly. “Or you will watch everyone you love die.”

His eyes bore into me, angry and demanding. All the anguish he causes rises inside me until I can’t take the pressure anymore. I burst out laughing.

Woland frowns and moves back but doesn’t let go.

“I don’t love anyone, devil boy,” I spit out in his face, anger taking over the fear. “So do your worst.”

He studies me for a moment, and then his face clears, forehead smoothing out. In an instant, all the anger is gone, and my stomach flips with unease.

Too fast. No one can control their emotions like that.

“I will,” he says, ominously calm. “But first, we dance.”

I gawk at him as he straightens, his head towering so high above me, the antlers spread into the sky. That’s how we emerge out of the shadows: with Woland holding my hand and looking down at me as I gape, suddenly speechless.

Sounds filter in and a cool breeze swirls down my nape. I shiver.

“You’re mad,” I say softly, yet it must be loud enough for the others to hear, because Nyja gasps and Strzybog guffaws. We’re back in the present.

“Well, to be fair, sanity is no fun,” the lord of wind says.

Woland doesn’t comment. He pulls me, without violence this time, to an open stretch of grass. When I half-heartedly try to tug my hand out of his grip, he cuts my inner forearm with his claw. I hiss at the pain.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, more angry than afraid now. The others see us, and even though they are his friends and not mine, at least I’m no longer alone with him.

“I have my reasons,” he says flatly, turning me gracefully around so that I face him. My hand is still in his, but his grip doesn’t hurt.

“Tell me your reasons and maybe we can negotiate,” I say cooly, even though the possibility is odious. I’d rather go home and bathe my body in cow shit to wipe away every touch of his hands and his odious magic.

I want to never see him again. Never speak to him again.

What he did to me… It’s more than despicable. I still can’t come to terms with the vileness of it because I never thought it was possible for someone to control another like that. I feel humiliated for how I responded to his manipulative magic. And yet, I am also triumphant.

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