Page 155 of Devil's Doom

She looks away with a thoughtful hum. “Hm. You’re telling the truth, but it’s unhelpful. I’d like you to try harder. Think. Why was he attracted to you?”

The plants move against my skin, climbing up my hips and stomach. They wrap around the blanket that I still hold to my chest, the only comfort in this utter horror. It doesn’t escape my attention that Woland gave it to me.

A sudden burst of hope flickers in my chest.Woland.Maybe this is just another one of his schemes. He’s close with Mokosz, after all. Maybe she offered to scare me for him, so he can swoop in and rescue me?

My back is torn with another hit of the whip, and I scream, blood seeping into my blanket.

“Come on, I’m getting bored,” Mokosz says with a petulant pout.

Wait.Would Woland let her whip me?

A hard, horrible weight descends in my stomach as I realize with complete certainty that no, he would not. He tortured my heart and mind, drew agonizing pleasure out of me, but he never hurt my body. At least, not just to cause me pain.

It’s not a scheme, then. It’s real, and I stand no chance.

“Chors said he felt safe with me because he knew me so well,” I choke out, desperate to give hersomething, even though I’m sure she won’t be able to use it.

When I try to shrug, my back blooms with piercing pain, so I bite back a hiss and resolve not to move. My legs are entirely buried in greenery now. It looks as if sage grows in a neat row where my thighs press together. The fuzzy purple flowers tickle the undersides of my breasts under the blanket, where they have pushed underneath.

“That’s still not useful,” she whines like a spoiled brat. “Oh, girl. You are so bad at this. Do you even have any female friends?”

She looks at me with genuine exasperation. I clench my jaw and shake my head. “Not anymore.”

Mokosz nods with a cruel laugh. “No wonder. I’d drop you as a friend within a day. Well, tell me more. What’s he like when he fucks? Assertive? Submissive? Does he moan? Or is he stoic?”

I blink at her in disbelief, fear momentarily replaced by my outrage. How can she ask me questions like this? Has she no shame?

“That’s private,” I say through gritted teeth, already bracing for the hit.

This time, when the whip plows through my bleeding back, I don’t make a sound. Sweat pours down my face, my eyes squeezed shut, and the pain is horrible, but not as bad as some other things I’ve experienced.

It’s all right. Woland knows she took me, I tell myself, my bleeding heart hanging onto this hope, even though it’s a double-edged sword. Woland might save me in the short run, yet destroy me later.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’ll never find me. The vial of his blood hidden beneath my collarbones ensures that. I regret hiding it so well now. There’s no way for me to remove it and let him save me.

Well, then. All I have left is to die proud.

“You are the worst,” Mokosz says, folding her arms with a scowl. “Fine. I wanted to be kind and start with something easy, but you clearly don’t appreciate my kindness. Tell me: what’s this idiocy about you knowing how to defeat Perun?”

I exhale, relaxing just a tad. There is a certain relief in the fact that I wasn’t kidnapped and whipped only to talk about my sex life. Mokosz had a more important reason for bringing me here.

“Ask Woland,” I say, feeling bolder now that things are reasonable again. “You two are cozy, aren’t you?”

There’s a bite to my words, and I clench my teeth, expecting another crack of the whip, but the goddess raises her hand, stopping the dragon behind me.

“Finally, something,” she coos. “Let it out, sweet girl. You’re angry with me, aren’t you? You thought he’d be faithful to you? Is that why you seduced Chors? To get back at the devil for kissing me? Don’t feel too bad. You had no chance against me.”

I groan, releasing a shaky stream of air. My legs are cramping, and the plants have reached my collarbones now, wrapping tightly around my arms. Yet, most of my back remains bare. A perfect target for more whip hits.

“Stop asking me inane questions!” I hiss. “Your husband’s rule is in peril. Don’t you care?”

She cocks her head to the side, studying me. Finally, her plump lips stretch in a beautiful smile. It glitters in the soft darkness of the dusk.

“Not particularly. All I care about is all that talk of capturing Woland’s consort. It’s laughable. I won’t have all the gods chasing after a slip of a bies who can’t even properly seduce a man. I’m sorry, but being in competition with you offends me. I’d rather you die today.”

“What?” I gape at her, even my pain forgotten for a moment.

Gods. She is mad. I can’t even begin to comprehend her motivations. As the whip cracks again, splitting my wounds in half, I sob. Mokosz sighs impatiently.

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