A second dose just because the comments were amusing and the first for whatever reason made me laugh. The same warning - this does not feature sex. Sorry! Additionally I don't plan to continue it, not really my genre. Hope you enjoy.
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A melancholy quiet filled the large, bright hall. It was a bleak stillness that might follow a funeral. The silence was only broken by the sound of water trickling down ornately tiled sections of wall, flowing into thin, ceramic white side gutters.
Devan, Sirah's father, sat before a great black hearth as he received the shattering news of his daughter's abduction. He held his face in his hands for a long time before speaking.
"What do we know of this demon?"
"He..." Salan hesitated, his forest-green wings pointed thoughtfully upward. "He is not malevolent."
Devan stood angrily and spoke with indignant emphasis. "He is a demon, who saw fit to steal my daughter."
"Yes," Noah tactfully joined the conversation. "But he does not maim or terrorise for leisure. He feeds off the land and takes mortal women, but otherwise keeps to himself."
"A distinction I would be grateful for, if she is unharmed..." Devan's thoughts progressed and he became agitated.
"Take the orb. Secure her release," Devan snapped his fingers at an elegant, sleek black box positioned on a tall shrine.
His audience goggled at him.
"The orb?" Noah repeated in a hushed voice. "But-"
"Sirah is more precious," Devan harshly interrupted, and Noah flushed guiltily.
"I would trade my life for her safe return!" he said defensively, upset to be misunderstood. "But to offer an orb before anything else..." he paused tentatively. "You have power. If you could come with us...?"
"Never." Though Devan stood still, his wings straightened and extended with tension, as though ready to glide.
Though Devan's features were flawless, they were hardened by a worldly sharpness. With the same sleek blonde hair as his daughter, his eyes were of a fuller, more concentrated green, where Sirah's were soft pastel. Unlike Sirah's rainbow colouring, her father's wings were a vibrant navy, with purple-black tones.
"Why not?" Noah curiously persisted. Devan was no coward, and he cherished his daughter.
"Because he is a demon. Demons are wily and..." Devan trailed off as his dread increased. "He may demand what only I can yield. And I could not bear it."
"How many-?" Salan began to ask, and Devan held up a hand to silence him.
"Only two. Yourself, and Noah."
Salan and Noah exchanged an alarmed glance. Devan sighed impatiently.
"Any more will appear a threat, and also reveal her importance."
As Salan and Noah extracted the orb and began to wrap it, they heard Devan bitterly mutter to himself.
"Tis as I always feared. Her beauty was a curse."
**********
"I am Thoran. What is your name?"
In a sealed compartment of the Demon's lair, Sirah drew her knees to her chest and remained stubbornly silent. She looked up furtively as he approached the barrier.
It was a barrier for her, not him. 'Devil's Mist' was a layer of light smoke through which only a demon could pass.
Sirah cried throughout the entire journey, then fainted when they arrived at his home. Coming to her senses as she woke on a soft bed, she was shocked to be alive. Surprisingly, the demon had made an effort to craft a suitable living environment for her.
It was no secret that nymphs preferred clean, watery abodes, and through the mist Sirah made out several blue ponds of fresh water that were not there when she fainted.
Despite her persistent silence, the demon spoke freely and seemed unsympathetically amused by her quiet terror. His deep, richly confident voice was hardly reassuring when he informed her the restriction was temporary; that he would alter parts of his home to suit her once everything settled.
Sirah had no idea what he meant by 'settled', but she knew what he wanted. There was no mistaking his intent from the first moment he began his fervent pursuit. Initially dreading a horrible death, the new idea of permanent captivity seemed worse. They were both eternal beings.
Despite marked dissimilarities, Sirah had the same indeterminate lifespan as her people. However different she was from her peers, she was adored nonetheless. As her beauty only increased with age, her father grew more worried than proud. She was a constant source of anxiety for him, and he forbade her to venture out alone.
Even with escorts, the land beyond the immediate surrounds of the border was always off-limits. Sirah had grown tired of dolefully watching travelling groups depart and return, flushed with excitement, bursting to tell incredible stories of wonderful escapades and narrowly avoided peril.
Demons were often part of the tales. And now, she had her own nightmarish adventure that seemed impossible to escape. She was trapped in the fate she had tempted.
"What is your name?" the demon repeated, standing against the grey swirling barrier. "I know you are not mute," he added, smiling as he recalled her desperate cry for help. "I like your voice, very much."
Sirah cowered when he stepped through the smoke. She had never seen a demon before, but knew what he was the instant he leapt for her. His appearance was very intimidating, but unusually neat. He was physically appealing and very human-like, except for the colour of his skin.
Despite having no shirt or shoes, he wore pants which were more suited to a nobleman than a demon. His hair was neatly cropped and black as his eyes, which burned as though a fire continually raged within him. Plainly stronger and more agile than any mortal, there was no way she could defeat him.
Despite his sinister intentions, he'd hardly touched her. She wasn't brutalised. He didn't even rip off her wings. On the contrary, he took great care not to damage them.
"You will speak," he remarked, crouching before her. He paused as terror flittered across her pretty face at his closeness. "I told you not to fear me."
"You said you would not hurt me," Sirah answered nervously. "Not that I have nothing to fear."
"Wise. And true." Again, the amused smile.
Thoran felt a familiar, pleasurable shiver at the sound of her angelic voice. Though certain he would savour her body, he also sensed this frightened, delicious little being would make a diverting companion.
"When...when you have..." Sirah swallowed, unable to voice the dreaded thought. Once they were satisfied, demons either killed or released the prey they captured. They did not keep prisoners. "After...Will you let me go?" she asked tremulously.
"I think not," Thoran chuckled, warmly admiring her tempting qualities.
With long, perpetually gleaming blonde tresses, an irresistibly luscious body and eyes of a rare, captivating pale green, it was as though she was designed to torment him. Thoran remembered the first enchanting sight of her, the adorable mischief on her lovely face while she gleefully plotted some harmless trick. Even now in abject misery, she was no less desirable.
"Why?"
"Do you really wish to know?"
Sirah nodded, looking petrified.
"Because my lust for you will never be sated."
Sirah was horrified. "My father has-"
"I have no interest in treasure, except the one before me," he said, anticipating her plea. "What is your name?"
