Page 49 of Devil's Doom

His shadows flare around him in a magnificent display, dark magic oozing in every direction until it looks like he has enormous wings made of darkness. His eyes dim, and he bares his teeth in an expression so beastly, I press my back into the pillar with a jolt of fear.

“You have no idea how close I am to slaughtering those three right now,” he says, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, his nose touching mine. “I’ll make you watch. It will break you into pieces. I swear, Jaga, if I can’t have you whole, I’ll have you broken.”

My instinct is to taunt him to just do it already and watch me take my revenge, but I bite my tongue. His eyes are so wide, pupils dilated, and he breathes hard. His hand around my throat trembles. He looks wild, unhinged, and I suddenly believe his threat.

He will kill them. He’s on the edge of losing control.

And yet, he’s still here, with me, not chasing down my hapless friends. He wants to hurt me, but he wants something else more.

It takes every ounce of willpower to go against my nature. Woland has threatened and bruised me, and all I want is to fight him until the world crumbles to dust around us, but that’s not how I’ll win.

I put my arms around him, jolting when I feel how tense he is, little trembles wracking his robust frame. He truly holds on by a thread. If I say the wrong thing, he’ll snap.

“I missed you,” I say, stroking his back with infinite gentleness. “I missed you every day. I hated you, I was terrified you’d find me, and yet the longing was greater. Do you know what I did every night in my room before I went to sleep? I made little illusions of you just so I could see your face.”

His breath hitches, a shiver going down his spine. I swallow hard, because it hurts to speak, and my voice is so hoarse. But this is what he wants. He told me, he asked for it, and it should cost me nothing, but it’s my deepest, most shameful truth, and that’s why I’d rather say anything but this.

“If you hadn’t tried to lock me in a cage, I would have stayed with you.” My voice drops low, my throat refusing to say things I haven’t had the courage to admit even to myself—until now. “Despite everything. Despite what you did to me and my friends. That’s how much I need you.”

He gathers me to himself, lifting me easily until I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to his warmth. I’m half-naked, drenched in cold water, but his touch soothes the pain of secrets ripping out of my soul.

“And I’d like to stay by your side,” I confess, my lips barely moving.

It’s terrifying, what I say. My words make Bogna’s death mean nothing. Sara’s death, the baby’s death—all meaningless, because I choose him despite what he did to them.

“But not if you make me your slave,” I add, my pulse a wild, fluttering moth in my chest. “Not if you force me to come to heel like a dog. So no, I will not take your deal, but I’ll offer you something else instead.”

I fall silent, my body tight with uncertainty. I don’t know if I managed to break through his wrath. Maybe even just a hint of rejection will send him on a murderous rampage. Maybe I’ve wounded his pride enough to make him truly hate me.

When Woland nods once, releasing a long, heavy breath, I sag in relief.

“I’m listening,” he says, so quiet, I barely hear it over the sound of a drop splashing into a puddle.

“I’ll stay. I’ll even fight on your side, because I hate what Perun is doing. I will not be at your beck and call, but I’ll be here, and you can invite me to your bed. Just don’t… Don’t threaten my friends if I refuse you. That’s a cage, too, and I hate being trapped.”

He leans his antlers on the pillar above my head, taking a deep, rib-flaring breath. I hold on to him, my bare back pressed against the cold stone, my front pleasantly warm. He’s so hot. Like a furnace.

“You’ll sleep in my bed every night,” he counters my offer, his voice rough. “We don’t have to fuck, but you’ll stay here. Nowhere else. With no one else.”

I need only a moment to consider.

“Fine. But you’ll help me protect Dar.” When he makes an inquiring noise, I explain, “My friend’s baby. I did something to him. Something that’s apparently forbidden. I don’t know what he needs now, but I think you might.”

Woland takes another deep breath and pulls away from the pillar, holding me tightly. He walks through the cavern, his hooves echoing, until he steps onto a thick, woven rug in a dark corner of the cave. I lift my head just as he sits down on a high, enormous bed covered with crimson sheets. The frame is made of carved, black wood that immediately reminds me of his skull throne he conjured once to sit on.

I can’t believe it. It’s the devil’s bed.

“It’s so odd to see it,” I say, stroking his tense nape. “You have a bed, just like everyone. It seems so… mundane.”

He snorts, arranging me in his lap until I sit sideways. He pulls a thick coverlet closer and covers me, avoiding my eyes as he arranges the fabric around my shivering body with great care.

“I don’t need to sleep, but sometimes I choose to. What did you do to the baby?”

“He sort of… died. The second toll last night killed him. I… I might have brought him back.”

His hands freeze, gripping the edges of the coverlet. When I look up, his eyes are bright, studying me with piercing attention. I clear my throat, the burn gone now, healed by Woland’s blood. When he still says nothing, I squirm, playing with the coverlet he bundled around me. It’s soft and thick, the fabric better than any of my dresses.

“Say something.”

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