But then, I knew this. She mixes my names, calling me Woland when I’m Weles. She never forgets who I am, always wary andsuspicious no matter how much I try to put her at ease by wearing the skin of the man who didn’t hurt and betray her, not directly.
Jaga’s laughter subsides, and she eyes me seriously, sighing. “She killed them with one slash of her hand and turned them into dust that she blew away like dandelion fluff. She said they wouldn’t go to Nawie. That she destroyed their souls.”
I sit up, surprised. “Really? Hm, it makes sense. I tried looking for them in Nawie to get some answers after you revealed those names in your sleep, but I never found them.”
She shrugs and lays her head on my chest, stroking my side with restless fingers. “I don’t know how to destroy someone’s soul.”
“I do. I will teach you. Oh, I know. Let’s practice on those cursed by Perun, hm? We still have a few in the cells. It will be merciful to spare their souls the suffering of eternal life.”
Silence falls as she considers this, but Jaga is sleepy, biting back yawns. Fire crackles in the hearth, and I drink in the peaceful moment until she speaks.
“But Woland. The prophecy said the blade will slaughter one brother while the other prevails. It can kill Perun—or you. It doesn’t saywhichbrother. Are you sure we should get it?”
I purr, pulling her closer as she snuggles against me. I should have been Woland more often around her. She likes Weles well enough, but she loves this better. I think I make her feel safe even if she doesn’t trust me, which is utterly laughable.
I want her never to leave me again.
“I know, love. The previous prophecy was the same, and it made me frantic every time you threatened to go to Perun. We’ll have to make sure Perun doesn’t get the knife, that’s all.”
“Hm.”
Jaga falls asleep, and I hold her, stroking her with my hands and tail while she murmurs meaningless words into my chest,her breath fanning right over my heart. I wonder if all of this could have gone differently. What would have happened if Jaga revealed her secret earlier, and I taught her my dance?
She would have gone into the past and saved herself, and she wouldn’t have brought the knife, because without Nyja’s prophecy, we couldn’t have suspected its significance. I huff with amusement.
How ironic will it be if Perun ends up stabbing me with that knife? If it really can kill a god, it’s the most dangerous weapon there is. Should we let it stay in the past?
But then, Jaga will die. She must save herself, and if she goes there, she will take the knife, I know. Jaga is a cunning vixen when she wants to be, and she will plot against me despite sleeping in my lap like an innocent little kitten.
I push my way through our bond and peek into her mind. There is greenery and shadows, and someone’s quick, frantic breaths. I look down. I have the body of a small girl, twelve or so, and I run, I run fast, and behind me, wolves howl.
“Ssh,” I whisper, pulling out of her mind. “You’re safe. I have you. I’ll slaughter and eat all those wolves, you’ll see. And I’ll teach you how to grind their souls into dust. The devil will always come when you call, sweet girl. So call me. Whenever you need saving.”
“Woland,” she whispers, and a giddy shiver runs down my spine. Jaga fidgets, gently scratching over my ribcage. “Stay out of my dreams.”
“Are you dreaming about me?” I ask innocently, and it’s not a lie, just one of my meaningless deceptions. “You should. I deserve all your attention, either waking or sleeping. What am I doing in your dream? Are we fucking?”
She grunts unhappily and digs her nails into my side. “No. Let me sleep.”
“Of course, love.”
When she wakes up an hour later, I am painfully hard, rocking gently to alleviate the worst with a little friction. Jaga glances at my erection with cool disinterest and slides off my lap, going to the table to drink. I stroke myself shamelessly, watching her ass in that tight leather. When she turns to me, she shakes her head with frustration.
“Go back to being Weles. He, at least, can think about things other than sex.”
“That’s not true. Not when you’re around, love. He just controls himself better so you don’t know he’s railing you in his mind every time he looks at you. Or you’re railing him, which makes him even harder.”
She hums thoughtfully, sipping on some chicory brew. “This again. I take it Weles is interested in being on the receiving end.”
I tighten my fingers around my cock and pump my fist harder, imagining it, her inside Weles, taking him from behind.
“You’ll love it,” I snarl, closer and closer to an orgasm. “You’ll take it all out on him. On us both. And he will thank you after, you’ll see.”
Her face is flushed, her gaze low on my cock, and I know seeing me like this makes her hot and eager. And yet, she doesn’t make a move to join me. I finally see how rigidly controlled she is. Before, I was surprised that she actually wanted me after being so indifferent for months. Now I understand she is just good at pretending she feels nothing.
“Can you really let this go?” I ask, letting my fingers strangle the root, which makes my cock swell harder, the tip dripping wet. “You know this is the only cock of this kind in all the worlds. No one will fuck you like me.”
She looks up, bold as brass, and cackles. “We’ve talked about this already, remember? I said fucking is only a small part of life, and I stand by it. I am certain I’ll find many dicks just as satisfying as yours, if not more.”
