Authors note: This chapter has VERY dark humor. You have been warned.

Chapter 2: A Demon At Rest

Tatrianna was a slave. However, both she and Draco understood that she was not born with a slave heart. She was born with the heart of a hunter, with savage wolf blood pumping through her veins. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to be darting through the woods in pursuit of prey. The tightness on her face proved this, as did the flex in her arms as she struggled. Just behind her gaze, a beast was rearing to strike.

Her submission had to be earned, it was not simply given. At the moment, morning sunlight was seeping through the curtains and draping her in a golden cloak. Her body was shaking with strain; her teeth were grinding together, and all over she shown with a soft sheen of sweat. Draco was standing in the corner watching her struggle. He felt the constriction of his trousers as his shaft stirred. She was tied with her hands way over her head, so far over her head that she was standing on her toes. Her ankles were shackled to the bench, much the way Sarah's had been the day before. He watched as her calves shook, straining not to slip off the edge of the bench, knowing this would lead to certain punishment. The shackles did not make this easy though. Draco had placed them just so that when attached to someone, the wearer had scarcely an inch or so of space to stand on. Right now, Tatrianna had her toes curled over the side of the bench, and she clung there for dear life.

Draco walked over and began to circle her slowly. As he did, he admired the rippling muscles of her buttocks, belly, and thighs. Her body was an odd blend. Parts of her were strong and made for fighting. Other parts were soft and female, made for his pleasure. He admired her for a few more seconds, focusing on the soft curve of her hip, the round beauty of her breasts as they rose with her breath, and the gentle flush spreading over her body. "How long has it been now, whore?"

He was answered with a snarl, and Tatrianna turned defiant eyes on him. Her lips curled back to reveal the fangs that only appeared when she was close to her true self. He liked her true self best. That was the self that would not give him anything without a fight. She would not roll over and expose her belly in surrender simply because he called himself "Master". No - not her. When he looked in her eyes, he loved seeing that she was a wolf in human body. He loved knowing that his hold on her was like the shimmering grip of an icicle over a delicate rose. Any second it could melt away and the rose would be free to bloom. In her case, she would be free to hunt. She was panting, and her legs were shaking with fatigue. "Not sure Master, I only start to count the minutes when it begins to be a strain."

She jerked and snarled when a strike of the whip landed across her back. "About an hour by my counting, you must be getting weary."

Draco watched as she ground her teeth and struggled to get her body to cooperate with her will. She wanted to be strong and to not let this torment touch her. But her body was betraying her. Already, liquid dripped from between her legs. He had been watching the droplets of lust as they traveled down her inner thighs, her knees, her calves and ankles, then came to rest at her feet. "Oh? That long?"

He chuckled lightly, his hand sliding over her exposed body. She shuddered when it reached the wetness at her core. Standing this close to her, the musk from her body called out to him. The smell intoxicated him, and stoked the flames of passion he felt growing in his chest. "You know I value you very highly, Tatrianna. But this is a fight we go through time and again. All I ask; is for you to pleasure yourself for me. Is that so hard?" His fingers slid into her easily and moved gently while he absent mindedly tweaked her left nipple. He ignored the sounds she made, sounds she made when she was trying to be silent, but failing miserably. "Many masters do not even care for their slaves' pleasure." He felt her body tensing around his fingers, and she was arching towards him, moaning. He waited until he knew she was at the edge of release, at that delicious moment of bliss, and then removed his fingers from her. She cried in thwarted lust and snarled, thrashing against her bindings again. "I merely want you to lie on the floor like a good little slut, and toy with your inner most parts." Then he stepped up behind her, smiling wickedly as he undid the laces of his trousers. She quivered when she felt his hardness against her backside, and unconsciously tilted her pelvis so that her womanhood was more accessible to him. "What is it, my beloved slave?"

Tatrianna snarled and struggled against the ropes that held her, crying out savagely. "You yellow bellied coward! Why not release me and fight me? Are you so sure of your ownership of me that you are too afraid to?"

Draco had heard all this before, and refused to give in. She wanted him to release her and then use brute force to gain her submission to him. Then, the plan was that he simply uses her, and she avoids having to obey the original order. But it seldom worked, and she knew this. He was not a man to simply give into a slaves need for pain and brutality. Instead, he preferred to get what he wanted, no matter how long it took. With her, it always took a long time, and he found that this was something he loved dearly about her. He put both of his hands on her buttocks and growled. "You'll regret that, slave." Without another word or warning, he thrust into her nether hole. The flesh yielded in surprise to the rude invasion, and he had to bite his fingertips into the skin of her hips and hold tight to keep himself embedded in the hole he had just conquered. In any other castle, her cries would have drawn a throng of guards, but in this castle, it was a normal occurrence. They went from sharp pained cries and pleas, to lust filled snarls as she bucked her hips against him, and then desperate whimpers as she neared release. She squirmed against him, her head whipping around, sending her damp hair flying as he used her savagely. He let her push for release, and waited until she was close before pulling out of her and stepping away, leaving her mewling and thrashing in desperation. "Of course, I do so love to tease you this way."

Her body was shaking in frustration, and a growl was rumbling in her throat. "Use me." Her voice was no longer hers, but the voice of the beast that rested just behind her gaze. It was husky and deep, with a snarl dancing around its edge.

His eyebrows rose. "Oh? Giving me orders now, are you?" His fingers slid in the wetness between her legs and she moaned in desperation, arching her hips as far as she could. Then he found the little nub of flesh that made her knees even weaker than they were. Moans and whimpers were spilling from her lips, and her hands were straining against the ropes that held her, leaving bruises in their wake. He chuckled. She had been his slave for years now, yet still she thought he did not know how to properly restrain her. Her body was clenching again, and again he removed his fingers from her. The mewling cry she gave proved that she was close to giving in.

"Master please forgive me! Please use me, Master!" Her eyes were now wide and earnest, and her face was flushed bright red.

He hummed and teased that little nub while he thought, making her twitch and moan. But he refused to let her find release. "Oh? Ready to behave?"

"Yes Master! Please I'll do anything you want!"

With a smile, he untied her and let her slump onto the floor. "Drop to your knees, whore." She obeyed, her eyes glued to his shaft as she kneeled there with her mouth and womanhood drooling in desire. He gripped the base of it and smiled down at her. "Suck it." Without any hesitation, she engulfed his member in her mouth, and he felt it hit the back of her throat. He watched her head bobbing at his crotch for a while before winding his fingers into her hair and forcing his shaft deeper into her. As she gagged and made muffled protests, he thrust deeper and growled his delight. Her gagging turned to whimpers and pleas. This only made him become more enflamed. He chuckled and pulled her off of him, then smiled wider when she took in a whooping gasp of air. "Don't talk with your mouth full, whore." She bared her teeth at him, and he felt himself grow even harder at the sight of his unbroken slave. "Present yourself to me."

Tatrianna obeyed easily, getting on all fours with her legs spread, presenting her sopping womanhood to him. She arched her back, making sure that both of her wet holes were displayed. "As you wish, Master."

He walked around her in a circle, smiling. "Face to the floor, I want to see nothing but my property." She lowered her face and pressed it to the floor, and he thought about the scrapes her face would wear from him. Then he was behind her, and without any warning he thrust into her nether hole. She snarled and turned to snap at him, but he grabbed the back of her neck and pinned her to the floor while he savagely thrust into her. Soon, her snarl dissolved into whimpers and mewls. He saw her hands move down between her legs and snickered. "No no my dear. You refused to pleasure yourself for me." He grabbed her wrists and twisted her arms behind her, using them to pull himself deeper into her. This made her arms ache even more, and sent pain shooting through her whole body, which only fueled her lust.

She was close to tears, her body was screaming for release, and his savagery was making her hotter. "Master please! I beg of you!"

Her pleas only made him harsher, and he snarled as he approached his release. She was jolted each time he entered into her, and she felt her face rubbing against the stone floor. For days, she would wear the mark of a slave whom had been thoroughly used. This thought made her even wetter, and she mewled miserably. He decided to stoke her fire even more. "You like being used as a whore, don't you?" She panted, and he felt her body shudder. "Used in any way that I want." He felt his fangs growing, like they did when he was close to his true self. "By whomever I want." He was close to release now, and began to jab into her even more brutally. After he finally spilled his seed into her, he shoved her away. "Now, pleasure yourself and find your release, slave." Tatrianna rolled onto her back and spread her legs, her fingers sliding in the juices her passion had made. Almost instantly, her back arched and she cried out. Slowly, her body went limp and a soft smile spread across her face. He stood over her. "Good girl." When she replied with a snarl, his lips curled into a grin. "And that is what I love about you, my dear one." He tucked himself away and then stretched leisurely. "And now that you are thoroughly marked, I think we are ready to go to the auction."

She frowned. "Marked?"

"Yes, so that I am seen as the cruel slaver that I am."

Now her eyes flashed yellow in anger. "You only used me so that I would be marked?"

He chuckled. "Oh, you thought I let you find release for your benefit?"

Her anger flared briefly, and then she thought more about him using her as a status symbol, and grew wetter. "As you wish, Master."

I knew this day would come. Jayd had imagined her death many times. She had seen herself drawing her last breath, and then being in peace. She had always imagined that death would feel like a never ending fall into nothing, and that it would go on forever, not truly death in the way everyone thought of it. She thought that it would be a long sleep, one with no dreams or nightmares, no pain, no thoughts….just blankness. Still though, actually dying was not something she had thought of. In some part of her mind, she supposed, she had hoped to die in her sleep. No one ever desires being tortured to death.

The chicken cart she was now trapped in finally stopped, and the door was flung open. She hissed when the sunlight hit her eyes and then snarled when she was hefted up by her arm. An iron collar was snapped around her neck, and a chain was attached. This had always been called the walk of shame.

The peasants of this kingdom were not really poor, but not rich either. Yet still they managed to scrounge up enough food to pelt at her. She was hit with cabbages and apples and who knows what else. Each strike caused her to curl her lips and bare her fangs. When finally she could take no more, she struck out at the nearest person with her nails. She did not care who her target was, only saw her anger at the moment. These people had no idea who she was or what she had been through. And since they did not see, she saw no reason not to gouge out a few eyes before her death.

All these thoughts quickly dissolved though. Her wrist was caught, and she was pulled up by it until she was almost off the ground. She snarled at her captor, her teeth bared and a hiss coming from her throat. Her hiss was answered with a deep, rumbling growl that quickly made her go silent. Crystal blue eyes gazed at her from under a dirty cloak. The man holding her now glowered at the guards escorting her to the cage. "You should control this girl better."

Jayd felt herself trying to cower from him, but his eyes had her pinned to the spot. The warrior inside her slinked away into darkness, whimpering faintly. She sensed a lot of magic in him, so much that her magic suddenly seemed like nothing in the shadow of his. The guard was looking sheepish, frowning. "Sorry Sir, but there is no controlling this one."

His gaze now turned back to her, and she quickly found the ground to be very fascinating. "Oh?" He glanced to the path she had been on, and then to the large iron cage up ahead. "She is to be executed?"

"Yes Sir, for attacking her owner."

"I see." He studied her some more, his lips curled into a smirk. "It will be interesting to see how long she lasts." With that, he released her wrist and she fell like a sack of flour to the ground. Then he faded into the crowd, and trailing behind him was a large, white wolf.

Draco smiled under his cloak, and had anyone seen that smile who knew him, they would have soiled themselves like an infant. It meant that there was something he wanted, and since he wanted it, of course he would get it. This would happen no matter who, or what, stood in his path. He settled himself at the front of the throng surrounding the iron cage, and watched the three men currently in it as they slowly killed each other off. "Interesting. Pixies normally do not find themselves enslaved."

"A pixie, Master?"

He nodded to Tatrianna, who had settled onto her haunches next to him. "Yes. And she is being executed. It is obvious why. What fool would possibly think a pixie could be controlled?"

Tatrianna nodded in agreement. Owning a pixie, made her think about the travelers who came from exotic lands with strange baby animals. These unfortunate creatures had been stolen from their home to satisfy the curiosity or maternal instincts of their abductors. All was well when they were babies, but then they grew up and got to be dangerous. They went on rampages, bit their captors, or caused general mayhem. For this, they were executed even though, had they been left alone, they would have caused no harm to anyone. But unfortunately, there was little that could be done, and Tatrianna hated the thought of seeing another unfortunate killed because someone thought owning a pixie was a good idea at the time. "Yes Master. Shall we go to the auction now?"

"No. I want to see how she does. She might be the one we seek."

Tatrianna frowned in reply. "Master, you just called whoever owned her a fool for thinking they could control her….now you wish to have her?"

He chuckled, nodding slowly. "The auction only sells humans or magical creatures too young for our use. Here though, we have found what we seek."

The wolf at his feet now cocked her head in confusion. Of course a pixie would fit into their odd household beautifully, but weren `t they a little too late now? "But Master, she is being put to death."

"Yes girl, but death is merely a hurdle that needs to be overcome." One glance at him told her that he would not be swayed from his decision. The winner of the fight was parading around the inside of the cage now, his body soaked in blood and the rusty axe his owner had allowed him to have held high. Draco had seen a pixie when their instincts let loose. He wondered how long this sole survivor would last. The other two bodies were removed. The bodies of magical creatures were often sold for their magical properties. Human bodies were sold to the poor for meat. In the industry of slavery, any opportunity for profit was held onto, no matter how distasteful.

The door on the side of the cage opened now, and the pixie was thrown in. She was unarmed, as Draco knew she would be. Of course, she didn't really need a weapon. Just outside the bars, a man stood and shouted to the crowd. "This slave has been charged with striking at her owner with the intent to kill."

As was custom, her owner was brought to the bars so that she may say her last words to him. Draco smirked when he saw him. Yes, he was a war lord. And of course no war lord could be bested by a mere pixie, right? Apparently he had thought this, only to be proven wrong. From the looks of the limp he walked with, he had been painfully proven wrong. Draco moved a little closer, he was curious as to what she would say. Her owner reached through the bars and caressed her face, the look on his face half way tender. "It does not have to be this way, my beautiful pixie. Plead for your life, and I will take you back into my home."

She lifted her head, and her eyes bore into his. Draco could see that they had turned blood red. "Do you know, Master, what happens to a pixie when they die?" He removed his hand, wisely, from striking distance. She continued. "All the magic in her body leaves and carries out her last wish." Now her fangs flashed in the sunlight and she smiled wickedly. "Guess my wish."

Draco had made up his mind.

She belonged to him.

Her owner faded into the crowd, the cage was filled with two other slaves besides the victor from the last battle, and the fight began. Tatrianna glanced into the cage and then back to Draco. "Master, if you wish to purchase her, you may want to do it soon."

"My beloved slave, if I bring her back to life, then her life is mine." He watched her for a few seconds as she sat in the corner and tried to blend into the background, and then he smiled. "And she is most certainly mine; she just doesn't know it yet."

Jayd was trying to stay on the sidelines the best she could, and her eyes were glued to the large man who seemed to have been a body guard at some time. He was human, but he was a human with an axe. Oddly enough, she was the only female there. But when the big man turned his attention to her, she knew that she could not ignore her predicament any longer. He charged at her, axe wielded high, with a battle cry. At the last second, she launched herself into the air and at him. Her feet landed on his chest, and her hands on his shoulder. With little effort, she sank her hands into his flesh, her nails ripping their way to his bones. His face was stunned, and then he was crying out as the sound of rending flesh filled the air. The arm wielding the axe was the first to fall, and then the other. She was covered up to her elbows in gore. Her warrior came to life with a blood curdling scream, and as his body crumbled to the ground with her still on top of him, she sank her hand into his chest and felt the quivering movement of his heart. With a flick of her wrist, it was ripped open and blood gushed through the gaping wound she had made.

She stood up, her chest heaving. The two other slaves who had been sentenced to death watched her in terror. One, armed with a rusty sword, decided to charge her. He gave a long battle cry, the sword held high and ready to strike. She watched him, idly licking a few drops of blood from her fingers, before charging him. To anyone watching, it would have seemed that she had just missed him. But she stood with her back to him, and he stopped dead in his tracks with a shocked expression on his face before his guts seemed to explode from his belly and onto the ground. He crumbled, making the gurgling sound of his last breath.

But why am I even fighting? Jayd watched the blood pool growing on the ground, and felt a prick at her eyes as the first tears fell. She glanced at the one other slave still in the cage. He could easily be picked off, but what for? So that she could be the sole survivor? Then she would simply be sold again to another preening war lord who only wanted her to make himself look mightier. She closed her eyes slowly, and lowered her arms to her side. There my warrior, you fought for your life, but is it a life you truly think is worth fighting for?

Her thoughts were cut short as she felt a sharp pain in her back. Suddenly, she felt as though there was no air in the world no matter how much she gasped for breath. A blood soaked blade had grown from her chest, and she stared at it with little more than fascination. The other slave rushed at her, wielding a spear, which he plunged into her heart. She watched him, and almost smiled because he must have something to live for. He had pried the sword from the fingers of the slain, and then the spear. All this happened while she just watched him as though they both were characters in a play. But the savage look in his eyes told her everything was real. He screamed at her. "You demon! You have no right to live! You are an abomination!"

In the back of her mind, she heard a voice, just beginning to stir, as though from a long sleep. Briefly, she wondered if perhaps it was awakening for the first time. What is your wish?

Her heart fluttered against the staff that pierced it, and her lungs fought to fill with air. She cast her gaze into the crowd, and saw her owner standing there. He was watching her with a satisfied smile. She closed her eyes, feeling her hands and feet going cold, and the coldness slowly began to grip onto her ankles and wrists, calves and elbows. The only warmth she felt was the blood pouring from her wounds. Give me strength to fight this one last time, and then destroy those who lead me to this state. That is my dying wish.

She had never imagined death to be like this. Her injuries tingled, and her hands and feet sprang to life. A snarl sprang from her lips, and knowing she had such a short time, she charged the last slave in the cage. Her body took on a life of it`s own, and soon had covered itself in gore. After his body fell, she stood alone, and then fell to the ground. On her face, she wore the only real smile she had ever known. Her eyes closed, and just as she had imagined, she was caught in an everlasting fall into nothingness.

The crowd had gone silent, and Draco wisely stepped back from the cage. The pixies body glowed briefly, before light poured out of her, and that light turned into a black cloud, and that black cloud suddenly came alive. It buzzed so loud that several people covered their ears, and soon people began to run as the cloud grew and grew, blocking the sun. But it was after none of them, and Draco knew this. He scanned the crowd until he spotted her owner, who was trying to flee. He did not get very far before the cloud was upon him, and Draco watched as he was eaten away slowly. The man was screaming in pain, but everyone feared to go near him. It looked as though his body was melting, and he could do nothing but just watch. Then the cries slowly died, and the cloud dispersed from its victim. Draco had a feeling though, that her magic was not finished with its task quite yet. More likely, it would also wipe out her former owners' guards, friends, and anyone else who had used her. He could not say he blamed her either.

After the square was almost emptied of people running in fear, the door to the cage opened, and the bodies of the slain were hauled away. Draco followed with Tatrianna trotting at his side. The pixies body was sorted into a small pile of bodies, while the other slaves were thrown in a large one. They would be cut up and sold as meat.

The smaller pile though, held the magical creatures. Fairies, elves, pixies, and the occasional troll lay there. The magical parts of them were harvested by a butcher skilled in such tasks. At the moment, that butcher was carefully filling a glass jar with fairy blood, which was coming from the remains of an unfortunate donor. The rest of the fairy's parts had been harvested, and now the gaping cavity of its chest was all that remained. The heart of a fairy was said to bring true love, the lungs were said to give the ability to breath under water, and the stomach would make it so you never went hungry again. Draco knew only a few of these worked. Pixie body parts normally sold to soldiers. He also knew these rarely worked as well. The reason was because often when any magical creature dies, their magic goes off to grant them a final wish. The only magical creature body that retained its magic was a dragon.

The butcher threw the scraps left from the body he had been working on, and moved over to the pile. The pixie was lying on top, and so her body was hefted under his arm and thrown unceremoniously onto the table. Draco watched him as he studied her with a detachment one got only after seeing carnage day in and day out. As soon as the butcher had ripped the weapons embedded in her out, Draco moved forward. "I want to purchase this body."

Draco knew better than to think it would be as simple as that, not matter who he was. Selling her parts individually, the butcher could make much more than selling her whole. This man only cared about a profit. "This here be a pixie Sir….do ya know how much I can get fo` `er parts?"

"Quite a lot I'm sure; I want her intact though."

The butcher now looked thoroughly confused. He glanced at the body lying on the table, to Draco, and back again. "Lil` late for that, Sir."

"No, I just need her body intact." Draco reached into the folds of his cloak and withdrew a heavy bag of gold. The butchers' eyes fastened on to it.

"Oh, I see wha` you mean now." He glanced at the dead pixie, took her chin and moved it so that her head flopped lifelessly to the side. Her face held the look of one finally at peace. "Pretty lil thing in`t she?" He nodded, as though all had clicked into place now. "One of me regul`rs come `lot to get the bodies of pretty lil things. Stuffs `em, dresses `em….kinda uses `em like a wife."

Draco frowned and inside he recoiled from the idea. Tatrianna sat beside him on her haunches and he heard her groan in disgust. "Yes indeed, she is. But my motive is not carnal. I will pay whatever you think fair." To make his point clear, he held up the bag of coins and shook it.

The butcher nodded. That was three times what he would get for her if he sold her piece by piece. "Well, I su`ose it is a deal `en." The money was handed over, and the butcher took out a coin and bit into it, smiling when he saw the impression of his teeth.

Tatrianna watched as the body was loaded onto the cart Draco had brought along with them. One of the pixies arms flopped off the cart, hanging limply until Draco positioned it on her still chest. "Master, I feel the need to remind you again that she is dead…."

"I know my darling girl, but as I said before, death is just a small hurdle." Tatrianna looked at him with confusion but said nothing more. Draco took another look at the pixies face, which was relaxed and at peace, before covering her in sack cloth to hide her from sight and protect her during the trip. Your peace is about the come to an end, my little treasure.