Page 82 of Devil's Doom

“Well, the curse was clearly designed to make him suffer and stop you from healing him. It’s your fault for not minding my warning.”

“No, it was not clear!” I explode, the vipers beginning to slither in agitation. “I was convinced it was just a petty cruelty you carelessly threw in because you were bored!”

He shakes his head with an infuriating snort of amusement. “Love, I am never carelessly cruel. Every time I cause pain and suffering, it’s for a clear purpose. Perun is the one who throws tantrums. My every move is calculated.”

He has no right to sound so pleased with himself saying things like that, but after spending some time among his people, I understand it. Cold cruelty is definitely appreciated here, as is magical power.

“Calculated,” I mutter, conjuring water for my belladonna. “Kindly calculate yourself out of this room, then. I don’t want to see you.”

“But I want to see you,” he says smoothly, his hooves thudding over the stone floor as he comes closer. “And since my absence made you leave me, I won’t make the same mistake again. See, Jaga? Even the devil learns. Come now. Let’s make up. I was celibate for over a month, and I deserve a reward.”

A reward. Bastard.

I decide there and then that I am done with him. Keeping my face averted, I do my best to prune hostility out of my voice.

“Congratulations, you won me over. I changed my mind. You can make up for everything.”

He stops behind me, so close, I feel his body heat caress my back.

“Of course. What can I do for you, love?”

I force my jaw to unclench and smile to make my voice sound pleasant.

“I’m tired. I’d like you to draw me a fragrant bath, but make it truly special. I got used to your luxuries down here. So go above and beyond, if you truly want to atone. And to be honest, I’d like the bath space to be cozier.”

He lays his large palms on my shoulders, squeezing once. I grit my teeth and don’t recoil.

“As you wish.”

As soon as he disappears in the bathroom, I get to work. Aiding myself with magic, I dig out a large piece of the belladonna root. Using charms Nienad taught me, I clean it fast and extract the juice. It glitters in the light of the orbs, so innocent, yet so deadly.

I send it into Woland’s goblet, which sits by his place at the head of the table. It drops into his wine with a faint splash. It’s done.

Seconds later, he comes out, tall with pride.

“All ready. Let me help you undress,” he says, looking way too smug.

“Just a moment. I’m thirsty.”

I extend my hand, calling a goblet. He nods, his poisoned drink flying into his hand, as well.

“To a night of peace and quiet,” I say, smiling with barely suppressed menace.

“To a night of fucking my consort,” he counters, his golden eyes gleaming with confidence.

I shudder. It’s good that I had the foresight to poison him. I am determined to hate him, and knowing Woland, he won’t stop until he gets his way. I loathe the thought of touching him. Even my body’s response, usually so eager, is lukewarm.

I drain my goblet, hoping he’ll follow suit. Woland takes a long drink but pauses, pulling the rim away from his mouth. My heart hammers once, half with fear, half—disappointment. His gaze sharpens, lips curving in a lopsided smirk.

He sniffs his wine, looks at my belladonna, then at me. I stop breathing.

He knows.

I brace myself for an attack. But the devil chuckles under his breath and gulps down the rest of his wine with careless abandon. When he’s done, he grabs another goblet, sniffs it, and pulls a long drink. He swishes it in his mouth and spits out. When I blink in confusion, he grins, showing off his sharp teeth.

“I wouldn’t like to hurt you when we kiss. Now, let us bathe. I’m eager to wash every inch of you. Especially those inches Chors touched with his slimy hands.”

My shoulders drop in defeat. “So that’s it? Let me guess—gods cannot be poisoned.”

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