Page 33 of Devil's Deal

Excited shouts answer. She walks into the river, raising her dress to keep it dry, and other girls follow. They are further down the stream than the boys, and I am the furthest of all. My chaplet will be ahead of all the others.

I sigh and get ready to throw it into the river. If I’m lucky, it will disappear around the bend before it drowns.

“Now!” Ida shouts, letting her chaplet float down with the current. I throw mine, gritting my teeth, and the girls splash out to the bank while the boys start swimming, their arms beating down the dark water.

Woland easily takes the lead, the strokes of his arms even and sure. Janek, who desperately tries to outswim him, moves with jerky, forceful bursts. The chaplets float smoothly, mine first, Ida’s a few paces after, and then the rest.

“Come on! The blue one, the blue one!”

“Catch mine and I’ll reward you!”

“The one with the white ribbon!”

The girls shout from the bank, encouraging the boys. Usually at this point, the spoils of war are already divided and everyone knows which chaplet to catch. For example, Janek is destined to get Ida’s.

But Woland’s appearance unbalanced everything. A gorgeous man like that, strapping and strong, is a right catch, even if he’s a stranger. And Ida has her eyes on him, not on Janek, as she shouts, directing him to her chaplet.

When he passes by the one with the white ribbon, and then the blue one with wilting cornflowers, two girls cry out in disappointment. He doesn’t spare their chaplets a glance, not even touching them as his arms spear through the water with precision.

Ida grows bolder, her eyes glittering with triumph as she puts her palms around her mouth to make her voice louder.

“Get my chaplet, stranger, and I’ll give you pleasure you’ll never forget!”

I clench my fists at my sides as Woland’s perfect teeth flash briefly in a grin. I wonder how many women, mortal or not, he’s had in his long existence. Somehow, I doubt Ida can show him anything he hasn’t seen before, but then, I am no different. I have nothing to offer him.

Why does he want me? And why does he change his approach so haphazardly, going from manipulation, through violence, to seduction? I don’t understand him at all, and so I don’t anticipate his movements. I don’t know whether he wants to help me, hurt me, or maybe make me jealous?

Does he hope that once I see him lapping at Ida’s honey after he catches her chaplet, I will somehow be moved to let him claim me? Like I am that stupid and weak. I snort, feeling a little better about myself.

He can scheme all he wants, I decide. Every time he humiliates me further, I’ll just have better reasons to deny him. Because I am so well used to this. I lived as a despised outcast all my life.

Woland swims closer and closer to Ida’s chaplet, and I am almost serene as I watch him hunting his prize. The boys in the river aren’t as calm. They scream and shout, splashing water with violent strokes of their arms, desperately trying to get ahead of him. Janek’s face is set in anger as he races after Woland, already doomed.

“There it is! Just reach out and catch it!” Ida screams from the bank, her voice feverishly excited.

I stand still, watching Woland’s every move. He’s just one arm stroke away from her chaplet when he pauses, flinging water from his face. He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flashing gold as he sees me.

Janek’s almost on him when Woland laughs and rushes ahead, as fast as a pike. He reaches out, his fingers grazing the wet flowers of Ida’s chaplet. They curl around it, and then, with another laugh, he grasps it and throws it behind him.

The chaplet smacks into Janek’s face while Woland swims ahead, faster now as his face tenses in concentration.

His goal is obvious. The only chaplet ahead of him is mine.

For a moment, everyone falls into a stunned silence, and then, shouts burst out. Janek raises Ida’s chaplet in triumph, but his face looks sour. Woland made it clear he could have had it but rejected it.

In favor of catching mine.

Ida’s angry eyes fall on me, and she mouths a furious word. Witch.

As if the only way I could have gotten a man to pursue me was through magic. I snort. I wish I could tell her I don’t care for Woland. He’s a manipulative, violent demon and a liar.

And yet, when he grabs my chaplet and turns in the water, grinning at me while wet poppies glitter in his possessive hold, I can’t help the rush of triumph and other rare emotions that glow in my chest. Not even the dismayed or shocked shouts around me mar my joy as I grin back, suddenly feeling like the queen he promised I would be.

He is the most beautiful man of all, and he caught my chaplet. At this moment, I don’t care who he truly is. Because he chose me. And no one has ever done so before.

Woland swims and then wades over to where I stand. The bank is higher here, so he lifts himself up with grace while water glitters down his muscular back, and then stands in front of me, tall, handsome, and unsettlingly naked.

“I believe this is yours,” he says, his eyes laughing as he hands me my chaplet.

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