Page 140 of Devil's Doom

Finally, when I leave the houses behind, I stop. It’s now or never.

The agony of shearing my finger with the wicked thorns is blinding. I trap a whimper behind my teeth and yank, pieces of my skin coming off with the ring. A whispered spell heals me, and I grip the cursed band in my fist, walking fast to the riverbank.

I fling it in the water, swallowing back tears. Like everything, the ring was a lie, one I was too eager to believe.

As I take a shaky breath, doing my best to calm myself before calling on the god of the moon, a soft voice behind me speaks.

“It’s beautiful. Why did you throw it away?”

Chapter forty-seven

Come

I whip around, all my tension and anger making my control slip away. But it’s only Chors. He came uncalled, and I shiver in relief. He holds my ring in his wet palm, his gaze mildly questioning.

“I threw it away because it’s a lie.”

A gentle crease forms between his eyebrows as he studies my ring, as if searching for the source of deceit. He stands barefoot, the legs of his long, loose trousers trailing in the snow. His chest is bare, as lean as I remember from last time. But the silvery sheen on his cheeks seems healthier, his eyes bright and curious. There will be a full moon in a few days. He’s eating, then. Getting stronger.

“Interesting,” he says, turning the ring in his fingers until it flashes silver. “It’s just a ring. There is no curse cast upon it. How is it a lie?”

“It was given to me as a false promise,” I say, my throat growing tight.

I haven’t processed Woland’s betrayal, and it still hurts like an arrow through my heart that I don’t have the courage to yank out. Chors’ eyes lift, and he searches my face. What he sees in it must make up his mind, because he throws the ring up in the air, where it vanishes in a flash of a silver spark. He walks to me, seemingly unbothered by the cold.

“You came to see me again, didn’t you?” he asks, looking a bit puzzled, a bit pleased. His full mouth is soft, skin glistening where it’s stretched taut over his graceful collarbones.

Chors is so… So artless. So completely different from Woland, whose every word, every look, is calculated. I almost sag in relief. Being in the company of someone who doesn’t seek to deceive me feels like heady relief.

“Will you take me away?” I ask, my voice nearly breaking. “Somewhere no one will find us?”

He smiles, and it’s as if the light of the moon breaks through the clouds, suddenly silvering the land. My breath hitches. He is so beautiful, looking at him feels like a magnificent magic spell.

“Yes. We need to finish what we started. Don’t be startled.”

I want to ask about what, when he wraps his arms around me. His skin is cool, body lithe and flexible as he brings me closer and closer, pressing us together in an embrace that’s both unsettling and comforting. Silver light swallows us, and suddenly, the land seems to swoop out from under my feet.

I gasp, clutching him to me. His back is real and alive under my hands, muscles fluttering where I press my fingers into his skin in search of balance. As I lay the side of my face on his chest, his heart beats fast and light, maybe excited, maybe afraid.

A moment of weightlessness later, the silver light vanishes, replaced by a heavy, restful darkness. Somewhere nearby, water splashes against stone. It’s warm and humid, and I breathe in shakily, not letting go yet.

Chors doesn’t move away. His hands hesitant, he strokes my loose hair once before his palms settle on my lower back, light and uncertain. His touch is so unlike Woland’s, questioning rather than possessive. I want to bask in it. This is exactly what I need to chase the hurt and fury away.

“Where are we?” I ask after a moment of comfortable silence that stretches lazily. He doesn’t try to touch me, doesn’t make demands. He just holds me.

“Somewhere nobody comes. It’s where the eternal river that gave me life springs from the earth. I think most people forget this place exists.”

I gently pull away, curious. When I open my eyes, I see little—only Chors, illuminated by his own gentle glow. Beyond him, there is darkness punctuated with the rhythmic lapping of water against the shore. When I take a step, I realize my shoes are buried in sand. It’s so warm, I sweat in my cloak.

“Oh, you can’t see, can you?” he asks.

When I look up, his silver gaze is on me, intense and curious. He glows just enough to let me see him. I laugh softly.

“Mortal eyes,” I explain. “Don’t let the different colors fool you.”

His eyebrows crease in a frown, but he says nothing. All around us, glittering silver orbs come out of the walls, flooding the space. I inhale sharply, charmed and alarmed all at once.

We are in an underground cavern, wide but nor overly tall. It’s almost cozy, despite the cool light and the alienness of this space.

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