Lottie woke up feeling like someone had punched her in the guts, kicked her in the head, ran her over with a horse-drawn cart and left her out to dry.
She lurched over the side of the bed and vomited. With the emptiness in her stomach, all that came out was bile, the acid burning up to her throat every time she retched.
It hurt everywhere, and she couldn't help but cry, her whole body shaking as she spewed for what felt like forever, grateful for whatever kind soul it was that held a wooden bucket with one hand and gently pulled her hair back with the other.
She wanted to see the person before her. Wanted so desperately to confirm Cain's presence and feel his arms around her again. She must be even uglier, the way she was now. Would he still hug her? Even if it was just to keep the both of them warm.
At last, the sickening feeling subsided enough to allow her to lift her face, but her vision swam and all she could make out were the blurred outlines of a man-like creature.
"Here, drink this," the creature said as he shoved a cup into her hands.
For over a decade, she'd worked to make obedience a second nature of hers, so it wasn't until she'd chugged half the cup of bitter, unknown substance that she realised the voice that spoke was a little younger and grating; nothing like the warm honey she'd gotten used to.
Lowering the cup, Lottie looked up and froze at the sight of the young, smiley man before her. "Who—" She did a double take at the dry croak of her own voice, hoarse from disuse.
"You can call me Demon."
She studied the man sitting in a stool next to her bed, bouncing one leg over his other knee as he continued to smile at her like he was the furthest thing from a Demon. Despite the unusual leather armour he wore, the man appeared wholly harmless.
Slowly, she raised the cup and gave the brownish foul-smelling liquid a swirl.
"It's good for you," Demon said.
Obedient she might be, trust was another thing, and she had no reason to trust this man aside from the fact that she'd already consumed half of the liquid and was still alive. It did seem like her headache had eased somewhat, at least, and someone who would hold another person's hair back while they threw up their guts couldn't possibly be a bad person; she was sure of it.
So she took another sip, then another, and surveyed her surroundings while she was at it.
The bed was firm but clean, pushed right up to the wall of a small, windowless room with the barest furnishings. The walls and ceiling were fully boarded up with wood and otherwise devoid of any hangings or decor, making the entire space seem more like the inside of a wooden crate than a room.
Beside the bed sat a small table that held a flickering candle on a brass holder surrounded by an assortment of coloured liquids in glass vials. There was so much clutter on that cramped surface that she almost missed it—the wooden carving of a rabbit and a wolf.
Her hand reached out on its own accord and her heart thudded against her ribcage as her fingers closed around the figurine she'd seen in her dreams.
She remembered being so excruciatingly hot, so sick and weak she could practically feel the icy claws of death scraping down her spine. But in those torturous days of oscillating between burning in flames and shuddering in an ice tomb, there were moments of light, like when she dreamed of holding a wooden figurine just like this one. Like being cradled in Cain's arms.
She even dreamt of an angel who saved her with a tight grasp around her wrist just before she was about to plunge into the pit of hell.
Delicate and cautious, Lottie brushed the tips of her fingers over every intricate groove and detail of the carving, afraid that it might vanish in a puff of smoke, like all of her precious little gifts from Cain that perished in a cruel fire.
It was karma again, wasn't it? She had her good, ordinary life with Cain, and instead of appreciating it wholeheartedly, she yearned for all the things she did not deserve, so karma rewarded her greed by taking everything away.
And now... And now... even Cain had left her. Left her with a stranger with a strange name who made her drink a strange concoction. Left her with nothing but one last carving to remember him by.
"Erm," Demon mumbled with an awkward clear of his throat. "Are you all right?"
It was only when she looked up again that she realised her vision was swimming again, this time in a flood of tears that wouldn't stop.
"Weraskin?" she mumbled back, holding the little rabbit and wolf tight to her chest. She must never lose it. Never even drop it and risk seeing them break apart.
"Huh?"
"Weraskin?"
"Uhh..." He leaned in closer. "Can you say that again?"
"Where is Cain?" she cried.
"Cain?" Demon sat back in confusion. "Who is— Ah. Cain for canine. Ha!" he exclaimed, sounding mightily proud of himself. "He's, uhh... he's out."
Cain had not left her for any longer than an hour since the famine began and he stopped heading into town. She didn't know what had happened while she was suffering from whatever had ailed her. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know who the demon-man was.
The Cain she knew would not have left her like this.
"Out... where?" she was almost scared of asking.
Demon's eyes darted left and right, conspicuous in his attempt to hide some horrible truth from her. "Out... doing things?"
The vaguer he was, the more horrible the truth must be. Horrible like... like Cain leaving her for good. And why wouldn't he, when all of Wilkin rejected her? It just took him a little longer than the rest of them to do so.
Upon that realisation, Lottie devolved into an ugly mess of racking sobs.
"Hey, hey..." Demon patted her awkwardly on the back, which only made her cry harder. "Umm, what—"
The wooden door of the room swung open then, and even through her drowning vision, she could make out the tall, familiar figure that filled the frame.
Lottie's hand flew to her mouth. "Cain," she gasped.
The next moment, her husband closed the distance between them. But instead of coming for her, he grabbed hold of Demon by the collar and threw him to the floor.
"Holy Mother of Gods, what are you—" Demon could say no more as Cain pinned him down with his hands around the man's throat, choking off the rest of his words.
"You said you would take care of her," Cain snarled menacingly.
"I-I-I d-d-did," Demon spluttered.
"Lies!"
"N-No..."
"What did you do?" Cain demanded.
"I... I can't..."
"Get your hands off him, you stupid wolf," a sweetly dangerous voice sounded next to Lottie's ear, followed by the realisation that something sharp and cool was pressed up against her neck.
The shock of the situation had dried up Lottie's tears, and as her vision cleared, what shocked her to the core wasn't the fact that the side profile of the woman holding her hostage looked oddly like the angel she'd dreamt of.
Nor the fact that calm, gentle Cain had swept in like a violent storm.
But the fact that he was covered head to toe in blood.
She screamed.
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