You're a witch, and he's a witch hunter.

"You've let your guard down so easily." Blade chuckles low in his throat, as he lifts your chin. You're restrained by the shackles, your mouth taped.

"Stop fighting it. I have a deal," Blade utters. "I'll keep you alive, but you'll be my little pet. And you'll act like one."

"Or,"

"I'll sell you out to the sheriff. He'd strap you to a tree and leave you to burn infront of the townsfolk,"

He has a vicious, bloodthirsty smile on his face.