“When I make your pain go away, it doesn’t just disappear. I didn’t mean for you to notice. Would you do me the courtesy of forgetting you know this? Please.”
Her warm fingers tighten on my cool palms.
“Do you mean… You feel my pain? That’s how it’s gone? But you… You sat here all those hours. How’s that possible while hurting like that?”
I smile ruefully, my eyes still closed.“It was a challenge. Leave me be. I’ll give it back to you if I can’t handle it.”
“Give it back now!”
“Not yet.”
She huffs impatiently, and I manage a small smile. The front of her body presses to my shins, and she holds my hands so possessively, I know I’ll jerk off to the memory of that later. Finally, it’s worth it.
“Oh, just… Just give it back. I’ll take my potion and go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”
“No. I want to hold on to it. If you’re grateful, you can hold me. Please. Just for a while. It won’t mean anything.”
She doesn’t reply or move. I look down reluctantly, bracing for rejection in her eyes, but if anything, Jaga seems torn. She looks at our joined hands, kneading my knuckles with the pads of her fingers, her jaw working.
I want to coax and beg, but stay silent. She hates pressure, doesn’t she? If she agrees, it must come from her.
When she tilts her face up, I swallow with difficulty, unable to tell what her expression means. It’s open but determined, and we stare at each other. I sense deeply we’re closer than we’ve been since we lost that rebel fight in Slawa. She doesn’t seem to hate me.
“Can we go lie down somewhere?” she asks softly.
I wrap my shadows around her and take us to my throne room, because I don’t want anyone to disturb us, and so few can access this space. Only belatedly do I remember all the wreckage I’ve left behind, so I dim the lights, hoping she won’t see much, and bring us to a comfortable, wide daybed in front of a fireplace glowing with red embers.
I lie down, swallowing grunts of pain, and Jaga joins me, hesitating and awkward. I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her, and bury my face in her hair. She relaxes with a shaky exhale, and I can finally breathe.
“Was it like this when you helped me before?” she asks after a while, her soft fingers trailing through the hair peeking from the opening of my shirt. “You hurt instead of me?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
I sigh, pulling her closer to reward myself for all this ignominy she makes me suffer. “Yes. Go to sleep.”
When she snuggles in with a soft sigh, I think I actually could do some miracles for others. After all, one has just happened to me.
Chapter thirty-three
Wife
She is gone when I wake up, and I realize with chagrin her pain slipped away from me in my sleep. I’m no longer hurting—she is.
“Where are you?”I ask, already getting up to look for her so I can steal her torment again and make it mine.
“With Rada. Don’t come here. I’ll be ready to go with you in two days if you want me there.”
“Jaga, please, can’t you just…”
“No. You said it didn’t mean anything. Act like it.”
I busy myself putting my throne room to rights, then settle in the Devil’s Cauldron, where it’s drizzling, and let rain soak me while I listen to prayers. Some are small enough to grant without appearing there in person, people asking for lost jewelry to be found or a blessing. I answer only those prayers that explicitly name me. Many mortals pray to the gods in general, or to “anyone who listens”, and I ignore them. They won’t serve my goals.
When Jaga’s bleeding is over, I bring her to the Devil’s Cauldron for a lesson in disguising her magical signature. She flies a few circles around me, laughing, and I wait indulgently, happy because she is happy.
“So how do we make sure Perun won’t catch us?” she asks when she’s done, her cheeks red from exertion, eyes bright.
