WILLOW
I
took a deep breath, gazing into the eyes of the devil himself. Trying to sink into the feeling of the noise in my head, of the shifting of
each leaf on a tree branch as my magic filled every crevice of my body. It might have been a gift from the devil centuries ago; however, now it was a part of me that I couldn’t bear to part with.
I didn’t want to think of who I might be without it. Even if Lucifer’s manipulations had caused me so much pain, the beauty of the earth around me had filled those hollow places within me that my life had created.
Without the magic flowing through my veins, all that was left was the empty shell of a woman who had suffered.
“You’ll never take my magic from me after this,” I said instead of running. The distinctive scent of apples filled the air, accompanying our bargain as I spoke the words. I watched the tendrils of darkness spread over his skin once again when he nodded, accepting the addition to our bargain.
“Contrary to what you may believe, I do not want you weak, Witchling. I want you to embrace just how powerful you are and rule at my side. The others of your kind may be beneath me, but you?” he asked, reaching forward to tuck two fingers beneath my jaw and raise my chin higher. “You could be my equal. You’re the only one standing in your own way.”
“If you don’t want me weak, why do you want to chase me through the woods before you fuck me? Fear is weakness, is it not?” I asked with a glare. My fingers dug into the tree bark at my back, sinking my magic into the wood and using it to build my connection to the forest all over again.
Stalling. Buying time.
Gray chuckled, releasing me with one last nudge to my chin. “But are you afraid?” he asked, tilting his head as he knowingly looked at where I’d burrowed my fingers into the base of the tree, melding the wood around me so that I could become one with it. “Or are you just pissed?”
“I’m always pissed,” I snapped, clenching my teeth together as I sank into that anger. Into the feeling of being so fucking tired of being somebody else’s puppet. If I’d been stronger, I’d have let Gray take my magic and then walked away as soon as I had the chance, but I was too afraid to live with the hole inside of me. “You wanting to fuck me when I’m afraid doesn’t exactly put me in a good mood.”
“I don’t want to fuck you when you’re afraid, wife,” he said, stressing the word. I flinched, as I suspected I would do every time he called me by the term that I was so sure couldn’t be possible.
I didn’t pretend to discern the intricacies of demon marriage rites, yet it seemed like even for the evil creatures from Hell, some level of consent should have been involved. “I want to fuck you when you’re so mad you try to claw my eyes out. I want to fight you, and then I want to fuck you while you direct all that anger toward me.”
“You want me to fight you? Why?” I asked, sinking my teeth into the corner of my mouth in disbelief. There was something so primal about the way he observed me, in the way he watched every twitch of my body as if I might flee mid-conversation.
He knew I was stalling for time and that I would leave as soon as I felt I was able to get a head start without being unprepared.
“Because that is who you are,” he said, stressing the words he’d given me the night I showed him the vulnerable, jagged edges of me. The parts that no one else had seen, that had been so very hidden in the depths of my soul until he’d somehow managed to work his way beneath my skin and make himself at home. “Because you’re the only one who is brave enough to even try.”
“Lucky me,” I said, swallowing against the rising emotion that swelled in my gut. I didn’t want to remember the nights when he’d made me think I was more than just a pawn in his game. They’d been a lie, just like everything else. Pain was messy and chaotic and everything I couldn’t allow in the moments leading up to my only shot at freedom.
Anger was safer.
Gray laughed, the sound soft and quiet as I withdrew my fingers from the tree. I searched for something to say. Waited for him to continue the conversation so that I could catch him off guard. But he only watched me knowingly, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets with that infuriating smirk on his face—as if he knew every thought inside my head.
“I don’t even stand a chance, do I?” I asked, grinding my teeth together. I’d known there was a slim possibility of escape when I made the deal, but his assurance and casual ease made a pit sink in my gut.
“Only a fool would dare to underestimate you, my love,” he said, leaning toward me as I shoved off the tree and sprinted into the wood line.
I didn’t dare look behind me to see if he’d followed, unable to hear anything beyond the pounding of my own heart and desperation filling my veins. As I ran, I waited for the familiar sound of him following behind me, for the sound of his rapid footsteps as I leapt over a tree root and kept going.
I rounded a fallen tree, glimpsing the clearing behind me for a brief second before I spun forward and focused on the path to escape.
Where the devil had once stood was empty. Gray was gone.
