Page 136 of Devil's Doom

“Not my fault?” I ask with a tiny guffaw. “Of course it wasn’t! It’s yours. Your rebellion is such a joke.Master.”

I burst into another bout of cackles, and Woland shakes me, not gently, but not too hard, either.

“Snap out of it. You’re going crazy, and I need you sane.”

But I keep laughing, the look in his eyes as he kissed Mokosz bouncing in my skull. I’ll never be rid of that memory unless he wipes my mind clean. Lazily, with barely any magic left, I snap my mental barrier tighter.

No.No wiping.I will remember it.

“You need me sane?” I ask between hoarse giggles. “Is a mad fucktoy not good enough for you?”

He grunts in displeasure, pushing me away until his palms are on my shoulders, claws digging in. He drops his head low, his face so close, I try to flinch away. It’s all I see, and the intimacy of him filling my world makes my skin crawl.

“I only said that to protect you,” he snarls through clenched teeth. “If she understood just a fraction of your significance… If she knew what you mean to me… Jaga, Mokosz cannot stand female competition. In her mind, all male gods are hers. If she learned how deeply I care about you, she’d do anything to remove you. That’s how jealous and mad she is.”

When he pulls slightly away, I shrug, snorting with amusement.Sure. If he says so.

Honestly, I’m kind of having fun now. I am beyond caring after everything that happened, and Woland is so earnest, putting on such a splendid performance, it’s a joy to watch.

“You’re weak,” I tell him with a grin. “Always trying to appease someone. Either a rapist dragon, a jealous goddess, or your rebels, who are a bunch of animals. You’re not powerful at all. Pitiful god.”

A muscle flutters in his temple, his jaw clenching. He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring wide, and blows it right into my face. I purse my lips. Woland’s grip on my shoulders hurts, but I refuse to complain.

“Yes,” he says finally, his voice dropping into the cold, measured cadence of barely controlled fury. “I am weak because you make me so.”

I snort with derision. “What does that even mean? How do I make you weak? I am no one! A mortal healer from a backward village and a fucktoy. You are a god, are you not? What could I possibly do to makeyouweak?”

His body is rigid, his claws digging into my skin drawing blood.

“And yet,” he says in that same lethal voice. “You make me weak, because a stronger god would have put you in a leash and muzzle long ago. I chose to woo you. I chose to give you freedom and meaning, because I cared for your insignificant, mortal opinion. It ends now, poppy girl. I’ll do what I must.”

I don’t have it in me to be afraid. The only response I have for him is a smile and careless words.

“Do what you will. I will never be yours,” I say. My heart sings with the rightness of this choice. “Do you know I almost gave in? The last few days, I desperately looked for a reason to give you what you want. And there was none. You offered me no reason to trust you. Now I know what your rebellion is truly about, and I’ll never support it. I’m leaving.”

He laughs, guttural and unpleasant. When I try to shake him off, he grabs my braid and turns me around until my back is pressed to his front, his body unyielding, his hold tight.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he hisses, his breath hot in my ear. “All the fucking frustration, the hoops I had to jump through, you’ll pay for. I tried to be patient for your sake, but it’s over. I played a lovesick fool, I gave you friends, I made you feel welcome here, and I will have a return on my investment. We’re done playing games.”

I go slack in his hold, the remnants of my heart breaking. But I don’t even blame him. The fault is all mine. Fool me once…

I knew what he was. And I fought almost to the very end, but he wore me down. Stupid girl, I let myself believe his lies.

He laughs, the sound cold and cruel. “Remember when I almost fucked you by the river? I had you pinned, willing and ready, and I still left, because I got news that Perun was away from Wyraj and vulnerable to attack. I adore your cunt and I care for you, but dear, you’re just a woman. No woman will ever be more important than my fight. It’s naïve to expect that.”

Hot tears fall from my eyes, and I tense, willing the laughter to come back. I cannot cry for him. I will not cry. I wipe my face with harsh movements, glad that I’m facing away from him. Maybe he won’t notice.

Woland huffs with frustration, his hold loosening. He strokes my shoulders as if to soothe me, and my tears stop when I sense his pity. I growl weakly, but I don’t have the strength to shake him off.

“I feel things for you,” he says, his voice calmer. “Things I haven’t felt for anyone. Not everything was a lie. But Jaga, it’s like I told you—we cannot be happy unless this fight is over. You are an instrument to my victory, one that refuses to cooperate, and I cannot love you for it. But I could—I could. Just stop being so stubborn.”

My cackle is dull and hollow. I don’t believe a word he says. For the first time in my life, I feel like an utter fool, completely useless, my mind broken. I can’t believe I trusted his words of love.

I always took pride in my intellect, but as it turns out, I am the dumbest person I know.

“So that was it?” I ask, hoarse and quiet. Even my voice sounds broken. “Welcoming me here, making me your consort, the ring, all of it… It was just one giant manipulation.”

Which I knew. Iknewthat. And I still fell for it.

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