3 Chapter Two

She scent of food roused the Fae female. Her orange eyes cracked open, her vision blurry, and a quiet sound rumbled from her throat. She could just make out the guard's metal-plated boots and she could tell enough to know that one of them held her breakfast.

Or lunch, she supposed. Possibly dinner. She knew not which one, nor did she care.

It was food, and she was starving.

Claws scraped against the stone floor, and she lifted her delirious eyes to the guard holding her food. Her limbs trembled as she tried to push herself up, to get closer to the food, to that wonderful, delicious smelling sustenance.

A hand slid into her dirty white hair, unclasping the muzzle. It tumbled to the ground, but she ignored it. She ignored the lack of the scent of iron, the lack of the burning against her face, the lack of the cage around her maw. No, she centered on that food.

The guard set the plate before her, took a step back, and watched her lunge for it.

She stopped, however, haulting at the edge of the plate.

A sharp tang wafted off of the steaming pile of gruel, the salt sprinkled on the little bit of meat beside it looking... discolored somehow.

Something smelled... Off. Wrong. As if this food might hurt her.

A growl rumbled from her throat. A warning, possibly, but also the demand of a question.

What was in her food?

"Iron," answered a guard, "To keep you from acting up."

She glanced to her chains, to the door and the bars of the window, to the muzzle.

Wasn't there enough iron in here already?

"We aren't getting you anything else. So eat it, or eat nothing at all," he said.

Again, a growl. The man bent down to take the plate away.

With a vicious snarl, she curled protectively around the plate, snapping at the man. He backed away.

"Good. Now eat," he ordered.

The other guards, she saw, left. The door closed, but did not seal.

The Fae female met his gaze and held it as she swiped her claws along the top of the meat, removing the iron, and practically inhaled the small chunk of flesh. She choked on it, some of the iron remaining, but she managed to get it down.

The guard waited, eyes narrowed on the bowl of porridge.

Again, she growled.

"Would you shut up and just eat it? I'm not stupid enough to get close to those claws," he snarled back.

With a huff, she picked up the wooden spoon they'd offered and began to eat.

It'd have been good, had they not mixed iron into the sugar.

She almost spat it out, but she forced it down.

It was food. It was better than nothing.

Finishing the bowl, she eased herself to the ground, wrapping her arms around herself, those yellow-orange eyes focusing on the man. He carefully took her plate, replacing it with a glass of water.

This, she could tell, had no iron in it. So she again pushed herself up, took the glass into her shaking hands, and slowly sipped at it.

It seemed they offered their prisoners fresh, clean water.

When she emptied the glass, the man took it. He then reached for the muzzle, and she let out a low snarl.

"I was ordered to put it back on. So I will," he said.

Her lips twitched back from her fangs. Her narrowed eyes met his, and he bared his teeth in return.

For an almost embarrassing alot of time, they two snarled at each other. Eventually, the vampire shoved the muzzle over her mouth, the iron burning into her skin, and he quickly clasped it before backing off.

A pained cry tore from her lips. Claws tearing at the iron, her furious eyes met the guard's. A low, dangerous snarl rumbled from her throat, and she dropped her hands.

Then she lunged.

The guard did not move, did not flinch. She slammed to a stop against her chains, the collar around her throat digging painfully into her skin. Another pained, yet frustrated, snarl left her lips.

"Let me know when you're done having a temper tantrum," the vampire said.

She responded with a slew of Fae curses. The man rolled his eyes, strolled from the room, and sealed the door shut behind him.

Her screeching did not cease for the next few hours.

*

The next feeding went well, compared to the one before it. She ate silently, drank without complaint, and did not fight the muzzle. Following the feeding, she curled up in her corner and began her watch.

That guard, however, remained in her cell. So her eyes flicked from the door to the window, to him. The lingered longer on the man, but neither spoke anything of it.

Darkness slowly fell, informing the female of two things.

Her guards either didn't change out or only changed when she slept, and they would be feeding her twice a day.

Tucking the information away, she shifted her attention to the vampire.

He looked very, very bored.

"What?" he snapped.

She held his gaze, a question in her eyes.

"I'm just here to report on your movements," he said.

Well. He'd have little to report, then.

So she shifted her attention to the door, returning to her watch cycle.

The female only fell asleep when she could no longer stay awake, and again, she did not dream.