Page 80 of Devil's Deal

“But I never meant to be your enemy,” he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk.

“No, just my owner.”

I writhe under him, desperately pulling to free my arms, but Woland only laughs, his eyes glittering.

“I prefer the word master.”

It’s the strangest thing when revulsion mixes with desire in my belly. Master. The way he says it sounds shockingly appealing, and yet, the very idea of being ruled by another makes my skin crawl.

I clench my teeth and gather my strength, wondering what it will take for him to let go. And he must, soon. Otherwise, I’ll just humiliate myself. My control is already slipping out of my grasp.

I bid my body to be still, because my core tingles with need, my legs wanting to wrap around him and tug him inside me.

“Why do you want to own me?” I ask when he pushes his length into my thigh with a languid roll of his hips.

The devil’s eyes glitter when he cocks his head to the side. “Why do you want to visit the past?”

I groan. It’s this again. Woland chuckles, his thumbs caressing my wrists. “Let’s make a deal, Jaga.”

I bristle at once. “No.”

He grins, undeterred. “If you keep saying that to me, I might develop a liking for that word,” he murmurs, dangerously seductive. “No one’s ever rejected me as much as you.”

“And yet, here you still are,” I bite out, doing my best to keep the gasping breathlessness out of my voice. But I think he knows how he affects me. I briefly wonder if there’s magic at play tonight, just as there was at Kupala. But if there is, I don’t feel it.

Most likely, it’s my own body going mad, my emotions all over the place. I loathe myself for enjoying his touch, even if the enjoyment is tainted with hate.

“I am,” he confirms. “And I will keep coming back until you’re mine. Ironically, you’ll see less of me once you say yes. Maybe that might convince you, pretty witch.”

No, it won’t. Not because I want him to keep coming, though if I am completely honest with myself… No, I will not be. Not tonight. I hate myself enough as it is.

But if what he says is true, I can’t agree. I still need my revenge.

“No?” he asks, raising an eyebrow when I press my lips together and don’t reply. “Hear me out anyway. If you give yourself to me, I’ll give you the power to travel into the past. I will vow it right now so you know I will keep my word.”

I don’t hide my reaction well enough, because his mouth stretches in a lazy grin. He looks so confident. Like he’s certain he has me.

And for a moment, he does. The solution is so simple. If I say yes, all my problems will be solved. I’ll save myself, I’ll get rid of him, and then, I’ll be able to build my life here and shape it into what I’ve always wanted. Already, I am the unofficial whisperer in the village. Once I run Czeslawa out, I’ll have Wiosna’s old cottage. I’ll have respect and a purpose.

Woland will lose interest. I recognize him for what he is now: a predator that gives chase for the sheer enjoyment of it. I saw a dog like that once. It hunted rabbits, but not because it was hungry. As soon as its prey was dead, the dog discarded it and trotted away, already bored.

That’s what Woland is. He’ll claim me, triumph for a bit, and then abandon me.

And I’ll have what I’ve always wanted.

“You should have done this long ago,” I say, bending my leg absentmindedly to press it to his side. “I would have agreed.”

Before he manipulated me in so many ways. Before he got Bogna killed. Before the werewolf.

A shadow passes over his face. “You should appreciate that I made you the offer at all,” he says, releasing my hand to cup the side of my face. “I don’t make deals. I just take what I want.”

It’s quiet now, calm. Woland waits, confident, and yet, I see the uncertainty fracturing his thoughts. He’s unsure, and I realize why that is. He was so certain earlier tonight, when I lay under the werewolf.

The devil was convinced I wouldn’t refuse, and the fact I did rocked him to the core. Now, he thinks he has the right thing to bargain with, and yet, he can’t anticipate what I’ll do.

It feels like power, this place. We both want things from each other, but he wants me more. I don’t need him. Because I remember the future me who came to save me, and she was no one’s slave. That’s how I know for certain she didn’t give in to him, and that makes my decision all the easier.

“You need me alive,” I muse, my voice soft as I cup his face in return. His eyelids flutter at my touch, forehead wrinkling. Like he’s fighting something.

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