I came to slowly, my consciousness returning without ease. My vision was blurry, and I blinked away sleep from my eyes slowly, laboriously. My temples throbbed, shooting pains stabbing through my brain. I sat up, pushing hard against the ground to prop myself up on my arms. Then, I rose to sit in a cross legged pose, my fingers automatically going to rub my temples in an attempt to ease my pain. It helped a small amount.

I groaned. This was the worst hangover I’d had in a really long time. The funny thing was, I don’t even remember going to sleep. Or what I did last night. Or drinking. My vision finally returned to normal, I squinted my eyes at my surroundings.

Where the fuck was I?

I was sitting on the floor, cold hard stone. Marble. I ran my fingers across it absentmindedly, caressing the smoothness of it. I looked around with blurry eyes, taking in my surroundings. The walls were made of the same stone as the floor. In the corner was a large bed, covered with a canopy. Next to it were several bookshelves. The room was circular, the bookshelves following the curves of the walls. I blinked again. The far side held a tall window, from the floor to the ceiling. It was glass, with wrought iron designs in between the panes. I admired its intricate beauty before I noticed what was beyond it. White, as far as I could see. Snow? I squinted my eyes nearly shut, barely able to believe what I was seeing. Just to the left of the window was something else, a pile of cloth? It rose and fell… like breath.

Someone was there, napping curled up in a ball. Maybe they knew what was going on! I didn’t want to wake them up, but it looked like I had no choice. My panic was rising; surely, this was not right. Everything about this place felt wrong, fake. It was too comfortable a prison, and I didn’t even know who my captor might be.

I crawled over the sleeping person, unable to see their face. Their clothes looked clean, however, even fancy. If this was a prison, I suppose it could certainly be worse. I counted myself moderately lucky that I wasn’t underground in a dark cell with only straw to sleep in. I couldn’t bring myself to disturb their slumber, my hands hovering over their shoulder as I watched their breathing, their form rising and falling with every inhale and exhale.

“You’re awake,” the sleeping body said.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Fuck, I thought you were sleeping,” I said, unable to stop myself.

He, for he was certainly masculine now that I was close enough to notice, began to rouse himself. He sat up, ruffled sandy blond hair that was only slightly too long, and turned to look at me.

Surprised, my eyes widened. He was absolutely stunning. His eyes were a deep brown. The sunlight came through the windows, and as he turned, it lit onto those chocolatey irises, the sunlight turning them into a soft golden honey. His complexion, though I wouldn’t call it tan, was not pale like I was. He looked sun kissed, golden, and handsome. Everything about him screamed gentle warmth, a comfortable, cozy calm. I was struck dumb.

“Uh,” was all I could manage to get out. Eloquent – nice.

He smiled, a knowing, amused grin. “How unique a place to meet such a beautiful woman like yourself,” he said, his voice smooth and masculine. “May I have your name?”

“Um, well, I’m Callie,” I said, still staring. I shook my head; it was rude to stare like I was. “And you are?”

He grinned again, this time, an open smile, revealing straight teeth. “I’m a healer,” he said.

I tilted my head, intrigued that he didn’t reveal his name, but unwilling to push my luck. I wanted him to comply with my other questions, although this wasn’t a good start if he already wasn’t giving out what I deemed to be the easiest of information to give.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” the healer said. “And I’ll tell you what I can. But I see you’ve got some minor injuries. Please,” he insisted, “may I take care of you?”

I nodded numbly.

He took my hand, examining the minor burns from the coffee I’d spilled. Whoever had captured me had likely captured him, too. I only wish I knew what for, and where we were. I had responsibilities to get to. But I would let him heal me, especially if he answered my most immediate questions. He covered each little burn with his fingers, the tips lightly grazing my skin, eliciting little goosebumps when he did. He politely ignored them, or at least, he made no reaction. Heat generated from his fingers, warming my skin. He pressed his fingers onto my burns, increasing the heat, until all of a sudden, he released.

He let my hand go, and I lifted it to see what he had done. Perfectly healed skin, as if I’d never been burnt to begin with. My jaw fell open; I’d never heard of any human being able to heal like this. For one, humans need runes to cast any magic, and I didn’t know of any that could cast this kind of healing runes. Only demons could use magic innately, and though my knowledge of the inner workings of demons was still limited, I didn’t know of any powerful demon sorcerers that had this capability, either. Who was this person?

I eyed him carefully. It didn’t matter if he was demon or human. Either way, he had helped me. I was apparently a demon myself, though I’d grown up in the human realm. I had love for both races.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Where are we?” I asked.

He shrugged. “In a tower, some abandoned castle in the human realm. As to where that castle is?” He held his hands up in the air, implying his lack of knowledge once more. “It’s a mystery.”

We sat in front of each other, mirroring each other’s cross legged pose. I didn’t know what to do next. I was trapped in a strange place with this even stranger healer. But if he was right, at least we were in the human realm. That had its pros and cons. Being in the human realm meant I could possibly contact my foster mother, Queen Selissa, and she would be able to rescue me potentially. But, if I’d been in the demon realm, then Hazuzu would’ve been able to portal me out of here. I wished I had his capabilities for portaling. It would make this so much easier. If only that talent had been hereditary, this conversation would be a lot shorter.

“Do you know who brought me here?” I asked.

Again, another shrug. “I hear this is where the followers of Zaavi have made their home base,” he said, eyebrows raised as if he was spitting juicy gossip. “His followers are ruthless, relentless, and will not stop until their master is awoken.”

“I’ve seen their loyal nature firsthand,” I scoffed. “They’ve tried to kill me now on several occasions.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, looking apologetic and immediately chastened. “Why?”

“Uh, I didn’t exactly ask them. But I’m the daughter of Hazuzu, and I’m pretty sure they held that against me,” I said reluctantly.

I wasn’t remotely close to trusting this person, but he had healed me. He said he would answer my questions as best as he could. And it wasn’t as if he was going to hurt me. If he had, why would he have bothered to heal me? If anything, I needed an ally. And sometimes, to form alliances, you had to open up and sacrifice. I could tell him about me.

“Ah, so they want revenge,” he said knowingly.

“What do you mean? I’ve not done anything to them – or Zaavi.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have had to. He wants Hazuzu, not you,” he said.

“How do you know this?” I said, eyes narrowing at him.

He shrugged. “History,” he said.

I gave him a look. “I was raised in the human realm, I’m afraid I’m a little out of the loop on demonic history.”

“Well, I’m no expert, but I can summarize,” he said, settling in. He leaned in closer. “Several centuries ago, the King Mynsia of House Runia reigned the demonic realm. His daughter, Charybdis, was a powerful demon sorceress with many suitors. Hazuzu was one of them. Everyone wanted her, for she came with a powerful throne, and was powerful in her own right.”

“What, so Hazuzu stole Zaavi’s girl?”

“Oh, no, not remotely. Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard,” he said. “Zaavi only wanted the throne, not Charybdis. So, he needed to impress King Mynsia. He decided the way to do that was to conquer the human realm for him, make Mynsia decide Zaavi was the better successor. Zaavi battled the humans, and almost won. But then, somehow, the humans formed this band of sorcerers, called themselves ‘The Guild’, and put a curse on Zaavi, binding him to a prison, never to conquer again.”

“But what does that have to do with Hazuzu? He didn’t organize the guild.”

The healer shrugged. “But with his main rival gone, Hazuzu married Charybdis and inherited the throne from Mynsia when he died shortly after.”

“Wait – I thought demons were immortal?”

“That is true in the sense that they don’t get sick or age like humans do. But a knife in the back will stop anyone’s heart from beating.”

I gulped. “Are you saying that Hazuzu had a hand in the death of his father in law?”

“I’m not saying that at all. I don’t have all the facts, you see. I wasn’t there.”

“But Zaavi wants revenge on Hazuzu… because he stole the throne that Zaavi thought was his.”

“Indeed.”

“And to do that, he’s going through me to hurt Hazuzu,” I said. “How childish.”

He shrugged again. “Childish, maybe. Effective, most certainly. Hazuzu would die for you, and that’s exactly what Zaavi wants.”

A knock pounded at the door.

Panicked eyes met mine. The healer was afraid of what those knocks meant – and therefore, so was I.

“Shut up, healer,” shouted an angry and gravelly voice from beyond the door. “You speak too much.”

The healer grabbed my hands and pulled me in closer, desperate. “Zaavi will do anything to get what he wants,” he said urgently.

“I’m getting out of here,” I said, determined. “And I’m taking you with me.”

The pounding continued.

“You can’t! They’re coming for me, and I’ve told you too much already!”

The door slammed open.

“No! We can figure something out!” I said, desperate. “Hide!”

“There’s no use,” he whispered. “Get on Zaavi’s good side, if you can. Then maybe you’ll survive this.”

The demon guards that had been pounding at the door quickly stormed across the room to the healer. His golden hair fluttered as the guards lifted him completely into the air, threw him onto the ground in the center of the room, where he lay panting. It must have knocked the wind from him. I still sat there, equally stunned, watching the horror in front of me.

“Don’t hurt her,” the healer whispered. He coughed, a hand gripping his side.

The guards simply laughed. One grabbed his ankle and drug him out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The healer was gone, and so was any sort of hope I had to get information. I chased after them, even though the door was now shut and locked, and slammed my fists upon it. I shouted, screamed, begged them to bring the healer back, to not hurt him. He hadn’t done anything wrong! He’d sacrificed his wellbeing – for me.

I slid down the door, my back to it, and sat, defeated at the threshold. This day was too much. I woke up in a strange place, with a stranger, and after an informational conversation, he’s been taken. Probably tortured. Maybe even killed for what he had told me. It was all my fault. I pressed my forehead into my hands, tears slipping through my fingers and dripping onto my lap. If I hadn’t asked, hadn’t done anything, then maybe he would still be here. Maybe we could’ve hatched a plan to escape, and maybe… I don’t know what else. I missed Tomas. He always made light of these drastic situations, always knew how to lighten my mood, even if it was unintentional. But I didn’t want him here in this prison with me. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, and certainly not on one of my only friends. When these followers of Zaavi came to see me, I was going to kill them.