TW: Sexual content (mostly implied) at the end of the chapter.

Veidja didn't know any of the songs that were played. She was also unfamiliar with the dances. But N'Arahn turned out to be a confident dancer and she quickly got to grips with the movements. After a while, she even enjoyed it, despite the residual pain from the arena fights. And despite those impossible shoes.

As far as she could, she watched the humans around her. She had never seen them like this before. Exuberant, cheerful, relaxed, sometimes even lost in each other as they danced. She knew these scenes from the festivals on the White Mountain. Well, at least roughly like this. Different music, different clothes. Different worries that were pushed away.

N'Arahn barely took his eyes off her. She had hoped to be unobserved for once, perhaps to be able to escape. But even when he disappeared to get something to drink, she felt his presence through the bracelet, as if he were standing right next to her.

After a while, she gave up being overly vigilant all the time. She was among humans, not demons. So basically out of danger for the first time in a while. Even N'Arahn made an effort to be pleasant company. However, he couldn't stop monitoring and patronizing her, which was annoying and humiliating. As soon as a person came near her, let alone addressed her, the demon appeared at her side. His stony expression, piercing gaze and threatening posture reliably drove every human away.

Nevertheless... Gradually, Veidja relaxed a little. Dancing was a nice change from her usual exercise routine. And even though it brought her close to N'Arahn in an unfamiliar way, it didn't feel menacing or uncomfortable. His human form helped her to cautiously allow herself some enjoyment.

They had just been sitting for a while in silence, peacefully for once, when a new song made them both jump. The rhythm was combative and Veidja's heart instantly beat faster. She couldn't say she found the music particularly pleasant, but she was simply carried away.

Emerald green eyes bored into her soul. Backing up, her eyes always on the demonlord, she crossed the dance floor, which had emptied as if by secret command. N'Arahn followed her immediately, his stance challenging her.

They circled each other in time to the music, he caught her, she pushed him away. Then she tempted him again and he pulled her into his arms. She slid down him, he caught her and held her briefly before pushing her away, turning his back on her. When she stepped away, however, he immediately looked for her again. She let him feel her rejection, felt him approach her from behind and woo her. When she didn't give in, he spun her around, letting her fall, only to catch her with the last beat of the music just before she hit the floor. His face so close, both bodies tense to the extreme.

Carefully, N'Arahn lifted her up, holding the angel close to him. Both were still trembling from the dance, from the aggression, the suspense. The fight.

Veidja felt as if she had been through another round in the arena. Only different. Better? The scent of the demon was intoxicating, just like his closeness. She still stood in his arms, pressed against his chest, feeling every breath as if it were her own. Just for that moment, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Then she became aware of the silence. The humans made no sound, even the music had remained silent.

N'Arahn's breath prickled on her skin as he whispered, "We have to go."

Then he turned around abruptly to leave the room. He didn't let go of her hand, pulling her with him. Veidja followed N'Arahn through the door into the corridor; the stunned humans still left frozen in silence.

"Halt!" Veidja had to gather herself first. She stopped and withdrew her hand from the demon. The warmth his touch had left behind continued to glow for a moment. "What was that in there?"

N'Arahn only half turned around. She could see that he was restraining himself, but was determined to get out of here.

"Paso Doble," he growled. "Now come on, we have to get back."

"That's not what I mean." Veidja was suddenly furious. Something had happened at that dance. It had been more than a good performance. It had felt so real, so intense...

"What happened there?"

The demonlord still wasn't looking at her. He seemed restless. "We were dancing. Or didn't you notice?" His tone was now contemptuous. "Maybe I should have brought a puppet after all."

That was so obviously avoiding the real issue that Veidja was speechless. When N'Arahn turned completely away from her again and headed for the exit, she followed him silently. This clarification would probably have to wait, if she would even get the chance to understand it.

The demonlord strode out wide, almost making her run. Past more dance halls, past dressing rooms, past a corridor with a couple making out feverishly.

Veidja came to an abrupt standstill. There was something very wrong with this picture. But what? She peeked around the corner to catch another glimpse of the couple. Well, it might not have been classy to make out in a corridor, but that wasn't what bothered the angel. The clothes? No, they were both well dressed, spruced up for going out. She was wearing a tight-fitting, sleeveless orange dress and matching pumps. As far as Veidja could tell, this was appropriate for an evening of dancing, as were the man's black cloth pants, patent-leather shoes and purple shirt.

The fact that he had placed a hand on her breast and was pressing the moaning woman against the wall didn't necessarily seem appropriate for this place to Veidja, but she didn't condemn it. Sometimes you just had to celebrate life, no matter where you were. Both seemed equally eager and absorbed, so what was making her feel so queasy?

Then the man slowly turned his face towards her. It was completely unfamiliar to her, but not the eyes whose gaze pierced her. Involuntarily, Veidja's hand went to her throat. Paralyzed, she continued to stare at him.

"Well, sweet angel? Do you want to join us?" Tazeel licked his lips with relish; Veidja had no doubt that it was him. "You can also just watch." He pulled the woman's cleavage down further and licked over the exposed breast, eliciting a pleasurable gasp from the stranger. "As you can see, she doesn't mind at all." The demon in human form grinned at Veidja.

"Leave her!" Veidja's voice was weak, the situation felt far too bizarre for her. Where was N'Arahn? And why did she want a second demonlord around? Who knew what that would lead to?

"Oh, I'm certainly not going to do that. Look, it's exactly what she wants." The woman had reached for Tazeel's belt and deftly undid his pants. Tazeel laughed softly. "Not so fast, we got time." Nevertheless, he slowly pushed the hem of her dress higher while his red eyes continued to fix on the angel.

Veidja took a step forward. The demon had surely cast a spell over this woman, she had to help her. This disgusting creep should not touch her again. One more step. Oh, she was angry enough now to attack him, no matter what the consequences.

A heavy hand settled on her shoulder, holding her back. N'Arahn. Now of all times.

"I won't let this happen!" She tried to shake him off, but now the demonlord grabbed her with both hands and pulled her backward against him.

"Yes, you will." More quietly, he added: "And if you keep wriggling, you'll even witness it." A second passed, during which Tazeel's provocative moans and the rustling of the fabric seemed particularly loud and unbearable to Veidja. N'Arahn lowered his voice to a whisper, his breath gently brushing the back of Veidja's neck. "Just look closely for a moment and you'll understand why you can't do anything here." With a slight shiver trickling down her spine, the warrior forced herself to follow the suggestion.

And there it was. A thread that wound shadowily from the woman to Tazeel. She actually wanted exactly what he was giving her. "Two children and a loving husband who reads her every wish off her lips; they wait for her with dinner. But she wants this, wildness, an adventure. The forbidden." N'Arahn didn't sound regretful, he just stated it. "Tazeel is a seducer. He only reads the secret, destructive desires and gives people what they want in the darkest corners of their souls. Before they change their minds again. Humans are fickle."

Helplessly, Veidja admitted to herself that there was nothing she could do. Free will. This was also part of it, and she was not allowed to go against it.

The green-skinned demon seemed to have forgotten everything around him. With a jerk, the angel turned around as Tazeel tore the woman's panties and dropped them on the floor while she kissed him wildly. Veidja almost fled from the loud moans and rhythmic slapping of skin on skin that ensued shortly after.

N'Arahn followed her more slowly. She could feel his presence even in the human realm; she hadn't been able to with Tazeel. It had to be because of that horrible bracelet she was wearing.

She felt disturbed. Of course she had known what demons used to do in the human world. But that had been abstract, just colourless information. All that had mattered to her was what she had seen herself: the battlefield, the fight, blood. Now she had this image in her head of a human throwing herself willingly and quivering with lust into the clutches of a demon. And she had a clear idea of what the consequences of such an act could be. The bond between the woman and Tazeel was entwined with threads of possibilities: from unhappy children to murder to war in the generation after next, depending on how well the seed grew. And Tazeel would have made sure that the fulfillment of a wish would lead to a bad outcome.

How could the enhancers endure being confronted with this every day?

Veidja had saved herself from the noises in the stairwell and was now standing at a window, lost in thought. N'Arahn's presence enveloped her almost reassuringly. His scent reminded her of familiar problems. The ones she could face: arena, battle, pain.

The pulling of the portal was also welcome, as it took her further away from Tazeel for the moment.