Page 68 of Devil's Deal

It’s still hopeless. I’ll probably get bitten in half before I so much as raise my knife.

Blood rushes in my ears, hot and thunderous, my entire body trembling with the need to run. I swallow the urge, down and down into the tight pit of my stomach, because the werewolf is so much faster than me. I’ll never outrun it.

“It’s like you’re dancing,” Woland says with idle curiosity. “One-step-two, and one-step-two, and… Oops.”

The werewolf’s foot rolls on uneven ground and it snarls with fury, spraying saliva. I breathe shallowly, its stench driving me to run just like every other terrifying part of it. My body shakes from the unnatural slowness I force myself to move with.

I see Woland from the corner of my eye as I get level with the front wall of my cottage, stepping onto the soft ground of my cucumber patch. He leans against my door as if making sure I can’t hide inside. His dark gray forearms are folded on his chest, his pose relaxed. When I take another step, losing him from sight, he laughs, bright and hearty.

The werewolf’s eyes flash, human and yet not. I try to take another slow step back, but my balance wobbles. I land too hard, my breath whooshing out of me.

The monster jumps.

It’s too fast, too strong. I can’t outrun it, so I don’t even try. Instead, I fall and roll, crushing my cucumber plants that sprawl on the ground. The werewolf lands close behind me, a deep snarl of fury tearing the air.

“Well done,” Woland mocks me.

I don’t have time to look up and see where he is, because the beast lunges at me. Led by pure instinct, I roll again, and the long, razor-sharp claws miss me by a hair.

“Careful or you’ll lose a piece.”

I take advantage of the fact the beast needs a moment to right itself, its uneven hips affecting its movements. I roll up to my feet but stay low on bent knees. When the werewolf roars and swipes at me with its paw, I jump back with a grunt.

But I’m too slow this time. A long gash opens down my chest, barely missing my nipple. My dress is torn, quickly soaking up blood. I hiss from pain, but there’s no time, no time at all. The claws make for me again, and I veer away, my foot catching on something.

I land with a cry, just managing to roll to my back before the werewolf is on me, its foul body pinning me to the ground. I scream and jab with my knife, but the beast knocks it out of my hand. It’s lost somewhere in my garden.

A drop of hot, putrid saliva lands on my cheek. I clench my teeth, and yet, I can’t keep back a pleading moan of terror. The monster’s disgusting breath envelops my face and presses inside my nose with my every shallow, choking breath. I try to wiggle away, but it snarls, settling its massive weight more firmly over me, its misshapen hips pinning mine to the ground.

It opens its jaws wide, too wide, and lowers its head with a beastly gurgle. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my face far to the side, waiting for death.

I wait. And wait. My heart hammers in my chest like it's trying to escape before it’s forced to push my lifeblood out of my body when my jugular gets torn out. The foul stench burns down my throat, the sticky moistness of the werewolf’s rotting flesh seeping through my dress.

And still, I wait. Until finally, I realize it’s not moving. The werewolf is utterly still, not even breathing. As if it’s frozen.

Terrified I’m wrong about this and yet compelled to see for myself, I open my eyes a crack.

I shriek when I see Woland’s glinting yellow irises just in front of my face. He peers at me curiously, his face just behind the werewolf’s paw, braced against the grass by my temple. I blink. Woland blinks back, and I realize he’s lying on his side in the grass, except I can’t see even a hint of green. We’re swathed in his shadows.

Just like at Kupala when he stopped time to be alone with me.

I turn my face up slowly, gasping when I see the view frozen right above me. The werewolf was about to bite down when Woland froze time. Its maw is wide open, red and black flesh glistening wet inside its mouth.

It should be dark here, with shadows covering us from all sides, but just like at Kupala, I see everything clearly. The muted, unearthly light makes it all even more horrifying.

My heart beats faster and faster, stuttering in the cage of my ribs. My mind desperately grapples with the fact I’m not dead. I should be. And yet… I look, fascinated, at a drop of saliva hanging off the werewolf’s fang. It seems about to drop, yet it, too, is frozen. Like all of him.

“Enjoying yourself, poppy girl?” Woland asks, hints of laughter in his voice. “He’s a large beast, that one. Bet you like having him on top, hm?”

I turn my head, the only part of me I can move without effort, back to him. His eyes crinkle when he grins, white teeth flashing.

“You’re disgusting,” I say, my voice wobbly and weak. “Why are you doing this?”

He laughs quietly, and I try to slide out from underneath the werewolf. I struggle and tug, breathing hard, but its weight is too heavy to shift. It’s like being frozen makes that weight even more difficult to move. There is no give. The furry body is like stone.

“Already trying to leave?” Woland asks, his voice infuriatingly amused.

But of course, this is all a game to him. My life is his plaything. I don’t answer, heaving and pushing until I shift a bit. Just enough to give my left arm, which is pinned to my side by the werewolf’s paw, some wiggle room.

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