Bound to her Captor

The first thing Reina felt was pain.

Her head throbbed with every jolt of the wagon, each bump in the road sending fresh waves of agony through her skull. Her wrists burned-rope, she realized dimly, rough hemp cutting into her skin. The air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies and fear, and somewhere close by, a girl was crying.

Reina forced her eyes open.

Darkness. No-not complete darkness. Slivers of harsh sunlight cut through gaps in the wagon's wooden slats, illuminating the faces of perhaps a dozen other girls, all huddled together like frightened animals. Some sobbed quietly. Others stared at nothing, their eyes hollow and distant.

Where am I?

The question formed slowly through the fog in her mind, and with it came a creeping sense of dread.

She remembered.

The memory slammed into her like a physical blow-the sound of screaming, the acrid smell of smoke, the clash of steel on steel. Her kingdom. Her home. Burning.

They had come at dawn.

Reina had been in the gardens, as far from her father and brothers as she could manage, when the first screams reached her. By the time she ran back to the palace, it was already too late.

The demons had come.

That's what the servants called them, in the whispered stories they thought the nobles couldn't hear. Demons from the realms beyond the mountains, beautiful as fallen angels and twice as deadly. Reina had thought they were just stories.

She'd been wrong.

They moved through the palace like death itself-men, if they could be called that, with impossibly perfect features and eyes that burned like coals. Their hair fell in dark waves past their shoulders, and they cut through her father's guards as easily as a scythe through wheat.

She'd hidden in an alcove, frozen with terror, and watched a demon warrior drive his blade through her father's chest.

She should have felt something. Grief. Horror. Rage.

Instead, she felt nothing. Her father had never been kind. Never been loving. He'd been preparing to sell her off to some foreign lord like a prize mare, and she'd hated him for it.

But her mother-

"Reina!" Her mother's scream cut through the chaos, raw and desperate.

Reina had tried to run to her, but rough hands seized her from behind. She'd fought-clawed and kicked and bit-but it was useless. Something hard connected with her skull, and the world had tilted sideways.

Then: nothing.

Until now.

"Water," someone croaked nearby. "Please... water..."

Reina turned her head-too quickly; fresh pain exploded behind her eyes-and found herself looking at a girl no older than fifteen, her face streaked with tears and grime.

"There isn't any," Reina said, her voice rough from disuse. "Save your strength."

The girl's eyes widened in recognition. "Your Highness-"

"Don't." Reina cut her off with a sharp gesture. "That doesn't matter anymore."

But the word had already spread. Around her, girls were lifting their heads, staring at her with a mixture of hope and