It hit her like a bag of bricks. That scent was not normal. Not from her world, if she knew any better. Wafting about her trembling form was magic, though she did not know of it yet. Magic was unholy, a horrid practice that no one dared to attempt for they would be killed as soon as a pot levitated, a healthy dog dropped dead in front of its master, or a building burst into flames without a torch in sight. Amora was naive to the entire thing, but now she would know what happened when you cross a magic-user.<br/><br/>Her eyes became as big as dinner plates when she saw smoke billowing from her mouth. She gasped and slapped a hand over her maw to keep whatever that smoky substance was inside her body, or whatever was left of it anyways. The demon's words felt like he had just stabbed her in the heart. She stumbled back, her shoulders hitting the wall rather hard as she leaned to keep herself upright. "No..." she whispered hoarsely, as if he had stolen her voice rather than her name.<br/><br/>Tears flowed like a river, making what little makeup the women had put on her run, streaking her smooth cheeks with harsh colors. She was between a rock and a hard place now. The thought in the back of her head of running as soon as his head hit the pillow was crushed, along with her dreams of seeing her family again. She WAS his now. Chains did not keep her here, but her own existence, her own past. "Please... give it back...." she choked out, her hand lowering from her face. "I'll do what you want... I'll stay, just give it back..."