Just a reminder that I update two chapters at a time, so be sure not to miss the one before this.

In another time...

Elizabeth woke at the foot of a grand, and occupied, bed.

For a moment she let herself wonder at the unimaginable softness holding her and the elegant swirls of the posts that held up a tassel lined canopy. She had heard stories of such beds in rich men's houses but had never seen anything more than a straw mattress held up by a wooden frame and rope. Whatever the blankets or sheets were made of felt like perfectly warm water, and after a minute she sunk back down and dozed some more, still very sore and oh so tired.

When she woke up the second time, she took more notice of the other body some distance from her in the lone, large bed. Their form rose and fell slowly with their breath, and she could make out a tuft of bright blond hair over the sheets.

It must be her captor. Now her keeper. Couldn't do anything about that.

So she fell asleep again.

The third time she awoke, she was alone in the bed and her attention turned to herself. Gone was the rough, bleached linen, and in its place a simple, but rather thin, sky-blue silk dress or shift that covered her body. She wriggled her legs, heating at the feel of complete nakedness underneath. No undergarments at all.

Her back, which tortured her as it had before, felt stiff and sweaty. She reached back to find, not the fluff of her wings, but warm bandages just as soft as the fabric she slept on.

…Wasn't this supposed to be the demon realm? Granted, she didn't feel all that covered in these clothes, but her wounds had been seen to and just as her stomach gave a loud, cramping protest of hunger, she saw a tray of fruit and…flakey…delicious…sugary somethings…

She stuffed herself and fell asleep again. They had to be the most delicious thing she had ever eaten.

She was rudely awoken by a hard tap on the face.

"Wake up. I'm bored."

It took her a moment to recognized the strange mix of soft human features and black eyes. Her demon captor gave her a straight, unamused smile.

"That's right. I didn't bring you here to loaf. You're my entertainment for as long as it lasts."

She shivered at the implications he gave.

Slowly, but not too slowly, she rolled into a sitting position, hyperaware of how the silk of the dress clung to every bump and detail of her body. Yet the demon only gave her a cursory look and sighed.

"How'd they ever mistake an underfed thing like you for a god," he muttered, before turning around to a bell and jewel on the wall.

"Yes, your highness?" came a clear, bell-like tone, from what, she couldn't tell.

"Some food up here. Something fattening."

A hesitant pause. "Of course, your highness."

He turned back around and climbed up onto the bed beside her. She stiffened.

"Relax, your sex offers me nothing as you are," he said, folding his legs clothed in black pants—she did a double take. What had happened to the clawed feet? There were normal boots there now, if pure, clean black could be called normal. He wore a plain black top as well, too short to be a tunic and sleeveless. This only added to his intimidation factor.

"So…who are you? What are you?" he asked.

She flinched and opened her mouth to respond. At first, her voice skipped and broke, then finally started up. All the while he just looked at her, expecting, blank, radiating that dragon-teeth presence through his tightly muscled arms folded across his chest.

"I-I'm Elizabeth. And I'm not really sure…what I am."

He sighed. "I guess it wouldn't make things as fun if you knew right away. Who were your parents?"

"Normal people," she looked to the side, unnerved by his bottomless black eyes. "I think. I never met them. I was raised by an old couple in the mountains who never had children of their own. Never really, uh, met anyone else till they…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Died?"

She nodded, her eyes stinging.

"Then you went down to the village and happened to find some poor neglected kid?"

She shook her head. "He fell while watching his sheep. Good boy. Really."

"And how would you know?"

She said nothing. The only man she had known until then had been her adopted father, and she couldn't really say the child had been a good boy based off of that. But he had been so worried about the sheep and earnest about making sure all of them were safe and gathered, like a hen with her little chicks. Something like that couldn't be bad.

"So, the hermit mutant comes down from the mountains to the first village she finds and discovers just how different she is. What occurred to you first, the chicken wings or the healing? Or was it the eye?"

"Oh, no," she touched her cheek beneath the orange-gold eye, which glowed in the dim lighting of his room. "I've always had these. And the healing…came on slowly. Just like any other skill, I suppose. My parents told me that's why they couldn't take me into town. Because my talent and…stuff would endanger me."

He snickered, but there was nothing happy about his dry, crooked smile. "And, whaddya know, they were right."

She ducked her chin down to her chest, letting her hair sweep down into a curtain between them. It was the first time she noticed someone had washed and brushed her hair too, but she didn't waste time being in awe.

"Well," he said, unfurling his legs, nearly touching her with the heel of his boots. "Humans are, if nothing else, predictable." He paused, and the quiet somehow seemed foreboding. "So you're just another human, then?"

She shivered again, feeling all the blood leak from her head, making the bed seem tipsy.

"I'm sorry. I don't know if I'll be much entertainment," she all but whispered.

The quiet spread out between them, far from comfortable and ringing with silence.

After a few moments, she glanced up to see him lounging across his pillows, arms behind his head, gaze to the canopy. As though sensing her gaze, he shrugged.

"I got some experiments I can try first," he said. "And there's always plumping you up for a little fun. I can kill you afterwards, unless you would prefer being passed around for a bit."

She blanched. "P-p-passed around?"

"I got some brothers," he said, as though that instantly explained everything. "They may want to experiment too. We don't see anything like you every century, after all."

She twisted her hands against her chest. Who would have ever believed she'd end up in a demon's castle, calmly discussing her rape and death with her captor?

After a few more moments, he yawned, stretched, and sat back up, rustling through a pocket of his pants. Without a word, he pulled out what looked to be a thick satin ribbon the color of blood, which he proceeded to dive through her hair with. She yelped in surprise but didn't move. The ribbon wrapped about her neck, where he tied it. Once satisfied, he leaned back.

"Every responsible pet owner gives their pet a collar," he said, once more with dry amusement. "When I'm not around you can wander about as you please. The collar will mark you as mine to anyone who doesn't already know, and I doubt there is anyone. Still, I can't vouch for your safety." He scratched the side of his nose, where a flicker of black shadow trailed down from his forehead. "We are demons, after all. Behaving isn't really our style, even if the thought of making me angry does scare the shit out of them." he shrugged again. "Your best bet is in here. I guess."

How reassuring.

She touched the satin ribbon, once more feeling the cold numbness creeping over her heart.

You don't belong here, whispered a familiar something in her mind and chest. You're meant for so much more.

Like she could do anything about that now. Perhaps healing the people she could in the wind village had been her purpose. If so, then she could end here. That would be okay.

The demon tapped her breastbone to get her attention. His nails were short and clean.

"Hey, show me this healing power of yours."