Her mockery is vicious and cutting. I want to scream at her, but I don’t. That would only prove her point.
“When will you remember you’re a god?” Nyja asks quietly, her fury spent. “You’re all-powerful, which means you can do anything. You used to know that.”
“Since when do all-powerful beings get chained and tortured by their own brothers?” I mutter, more to myself than her, and walk away to find Jaga.
I can’t let her wander alone. She’s all I have left.
It’s true that I am but a shadow of the formidable force I once was. I bled my power and will into the soil around the Great Oak’s roots, but there is a glimmer of hope, one I followed ever since Nyja said that prophecy.
A young mortal woman
Who should have died at twelve,
A witch with no ancestral soul
Will settle this war once and for all.
Whoever claims her will prevail.
I cannot win without Jaga. And if I don’t win, there won’t be peace for us to build a life. Why can’t she understand that? It’s not that I want to use her. I need her on my side so we can win—together.
“There you are.”
I stop next to her in front of a massive mosaic depicting an ancient fire celebration. Tiny black silhouettes dance around an inferno of flames framed by the dark spires of spruces.
On a whim, I send my shadows ahead, curling into the shapes of the dancers, infusing the trees. The fire lighting the mosaic blazes brighter, increasing the impression that the flames flicker, and I pulse my dark magic into the image to make the dancers move.
Jaga is quiet, but she watches as I animate the image for her pleasure. She gave me a glance, after all. I can give her this in return.
A few heartbeats pass in silence as we both watch. Abruptly, she turns away, her spine rigid, shoulders tense.
“Wait,” I growl. “Please.”
She’s already walking but stops, her back to me. I sigh, suddenly knowing what I must do and hating it. But Nyja is right. I haven’t exhausted all of my options.
He refuses to wear the skin you fell in love with.
I have good reasons to avoid my darker half. He is unrestrained, cruel, greedy, and likes to destroy more than create. If I let him out, he’ll chase Jaga away with a careless word or gesture. He’ll be impatient with her, maybe violent. He’ll probably make her hate me more.
But I’m out of options.
Magic crackles in the air around me as my body disappears in a cloud of shadows. I stretch, taller, broader, darker. My neck tenses under the burden of antlers. When Jaga gasps and turns to see, it’s not Weles who looks back. It’s Woland.
Chapter three
Force
We stare at each other for a loaded moment, and I revel in the connection. Finally, she sees me. And all it took was forsaking everything that’s just a bit good about me, everything half-decent.
“Sothisyou love,” I spit out an accusation, already out of control. “But the ancient god who created the world, the powerful being all goddesses and witches lust after, you ignore.”
Her lips flatten, eyes filling with anger. She turns away but not before I see her hands shaking.
“Stop.”
I send out a shadow to wrap around her ankle, because finally, I can. When she wore the pendant filled with my blood, it prevented me from touching her with my magic. She doesn’t have that now. She’s in my power.
“Stay. Talk to me,” I growl, my pent up rage rising up my spine in hot, tingling waves. “I changed for you. It’s the least you can do.”
