“So what happened?” I ask after a while. “Why did it work—claiming me? Just because of the prophecy?”
He shakes his head with a deep sigh and drains his cup. He lies back and motions me closer, and I lay my head on his chest, allowing him to embrace me, embracing him back. He is so languid and warm, so very easy to be with, now that it’s over.
“I told you how human belief gives power to gods,” he says softly, and I breathe him in, smoke and spices, my beautiful devil. “It works because mortals have souls, which are magical and filled with power. That power supports whichever god they pray to. The more souls, the more power. Perun has the faith of millions. I had the faith of a handful—and then, you.”
He breaks off, and I sense what he wants, though he doesn’t try to force me. I hesitate a moment, because should I really show him this hideous, enormous part of me?
But he’s called it beautiful. He wants to see it. I sigh in relief and resignation and let my soul roam free. It fills our golden dome and reaches past it, a glittering, horrible thing made of red light and power, crackling and shifting all the time, seeking, wanting something it can never find.
“Shh,” Woland whispers, stroking my back. “You’re safe. You’re home.”
I heave a shaky breath, and my soul settles, a blanket of red enveloping us both. He reaches up and lays his palm against it, and I moan. It feels so different than when Chors touched it. It feels right.
“There,” he hums. “So beautiful. It’s what saved us. This single, magnificent soul carries more weight than the millions who believe in Perun. That is why having you made me more powerful than him. That’s why your belief gave Dola the power to change Perun’s fate.”
He falls silent, petting my soul with careful, gentle strokes. I shiver as bitter, cold tears gather in my throat. He loves everything ugly and unlovable about me, my eyes, my hair, my zmora, and now this, my soul that is all me, ungainly, powerful, and terrifying.
He loves it. I cry for myself, the Jaga who was never loved and never allowed herself to be, until now. Woland holds me through it, taking my tears just like he takes everything I give him.
“It had to be like this,” he says gently when I stop sobbing, and his shadows wipe my tears away. “Everything that happened between us had to happen for you to become who you are. Do you see? You did everything right. I did everything right. We hurt each other so badly, but it had to happen like that, or you would never have been so broken that you became a goddess.”
I sigh, feeling empty and numb, and so warm and safe.
“But how am I a goddess? No one believes in me.”
He chuckles. “No one? I believe in you. I’ve believed in you for a long time. And you don’t know this, because I never wanted to admit how pathetic I was, but I prayed to you. Every night since I brought you to Nawie. I prayed for you to love me, to save me, to be mine. So you see? You are a goddess. My goddess.”
We lie in silence for a long while. I think I nap a little, because he is so warm, and I’m so at ease after a lifetime of being hard and afraid. When I awaken, the night is deep and dark outside our little haven. Woland’s eyes are closed, but they open a crack when I lift my head.
“Hm? What do you need?” he asks in a husky, sleepy voice.
“Only you.”
We watch each other, and he sighs with understanding. I shift closer, pressing my lips to his as I take hold of his antler. He grabs two handfuls of my ass, and we kiss, sleepy at first, then not. I remember the last time we were together, and the ecstatic murmurs of his blood mixed with his thoughts in my head as I listened in. I heard how much he hated it, how hard it was for him to make love to me while he betrayed me.
There are no more betrayals now, no more tasks, no more manipulations, duties, or deals. No more trades. No threats. Just a man and a woman who don’t need each other for anything but love.
Woland rolls me to my back and holds my wrists above my head. He devours me with his golden gaze, taking in my body with a deep, careful hunger. I sigh and let him, opening my legs and breathing deeply, because there is nothing for me to fear anymore.
He lets go of my hands and sits on his heels between my spread legs, looking at his mark on my belly. His breathing speeds up, and he seems to be in pain.
“Remember what I promised?” he asks, his voice breaking. “This was my promise to you. That we would be happy. That we would have children.”
He covers the mark with his palm, and the last scar dissolves. I am already healed inside, but that palest, silvery one remained. Now, my skin is smooth. I look within myself, knowing that I am not fertile right now. There is no egg on its way to meet his seed. Woland looks up, baring his teeth in anguish.
“Someday,” he says. “Please. Give me a child someday.”
And so I learn that he truly wants it. Not to rule me, but—to have children, a family. I nod, whispering a promise.
“Someday.”
We make love in a slow, worshipful rhythm. We have time. Woland pulls out to kiss me now and then, and his lips tremble against mine, then they don’t, then they do again. He looks into my eyes so much, lifting himself high on his arms to do that, and for the first time, I don’t want to run away from his gaze. It’s not easy, no, it will take time. But I feel like I can finally be brave and learn to be loved, to love.
After he shudders deep inside me, piercing me with his thorns, we lie together, both spent and sated. Woland pulls back and looks into my eyes, because this time, there are no more secrets and no deceptions.
“You couldn’t kill me,” I whisper, letting myself accept what it meant. “You knew you’d lose to Perun and be his slave forever, and you still didn’t kill me.”
His eyes glitter when he smiles. “No, love. You’re more important than defeating Perun. Than anything.”
