One dark hunter remained unable to move, it took little concentration to keep him like that, immobile and unable to break from her spell. It was almost cruel but she didn't care. No one harmed what was hers. The other felt like he was being eaten alive. Little did she know the illusions were actually tearing him apart, leaving nothing but a mashup blood and flesh puddle beneath where the beast stood. It was some of her very best work. It wasn't until the potent smell of blood harasses her sense does she pause, surprised at her own capabilities. "Well this is very new" she contemplates out loud. Her pale eyes find red blood flooding through the crevices of the concrete.

It was in this confusing moment does she dare wonder if her dragon truly possessed life? Did she create another entity that did her will? A small frown etched upon that pale face, not even a hint of blush upon her pale cheeks. She would need to delve deeper. Did this mysterious man release the potential of all that was locked dormant inside of her? Was it this adoration that tapped into what could very well make her nearly unstoppable? So it would appear one little hunter was very dead, his cries were stifled almost too soon. Perhaps getting eaten alive by a creature so large was a merciful death? She ponders oh so briefly her thoughts laced with potential and confusion.

"You can't just leave me like this" The man of stone screeches his protests, which only bring her racing thoughts to a halt. The wicked raven woman and all her twisted delight makes not motion to free him, nor does any notice fall in his direction She is too concerned with what is happening to this nameless man she swore on her undead life to protect. She could not forgive herself if harm were to come his way; her connection with him was so immediate and transfixing, not to mention rewarding.

Surely her hypnotizing stranger could handle one fast man who apparently only possessed a chain for battle? Oh she had been so terribly wrong to let her eyes off of him for one second. He was so quiet that she hardly heard any commotion amongst the concentration of her illusions and the yammering of the immobile man. There was the faint rattle of chains, clinking and whistling through the cool damp air.

He didn't respond right away to her, which only etches an expression only akin to worry upon her delicate features. Oh no, this can't be good. It was in this moment that Petra feels, actually feels such potent emotions that felt like a rock sitting in her stomach. As though her heart, if it still beat, panged as though someone were wringing it in a closed iron fist. Was this devastation? Regret? Was this true caring? It a slow moving horror scene flashing right before her eyes. This sudden white noise that strikes her so suddenly. His weakened voice finds her, a heart wrenching sound in every way. Her eyes find him amidst this dismay. She doesn't think she could move, she doesn't think she could stand but as she turns her body willing every ounce of strength she takes in the scene. The mummified assailant was dead, it brought a prideful smile upon her luscious lips. But it fades so very quickly when her eyes flicker toward him, he was a finger stroke away from death, the stake butting up against his heart. Too close. Far too close.

This frantic feeling screams inside of her. He needed blood, he needed her. She couldn't believe her eyes. No. She simply couldn't believe she nearly lost him. Petra needed to help him, needed to break these binding chains of panic that seem to hold her in place. "D-don't move, please." Her words are pleading and desperate, she is weakened by him.

She could take life away so easily. As though she were to simply pluck the petals off a rose, but she knew she couldn't stand it if HE died. This man she had only just met. His spell over her never waivers its hold upon her, even in this weakened state, it actually felt stronger. She moves with vampiric speed and oddly graceful in this state of panic, as though the rest of the world stood slow. She goes to the man immobile, so lost in a frantic haze she doesn't see the blade in his hand. The raven haired woman stops before him so very close their bodies almost touch. His torture no longer important. She needed something from him, immediately. Her arm raises as her hand shoots forward, plunging into the depths of his chest cavity so that she could scoop out his heart. It patters like a frantic mouse betwixt her needy fingers. "I need this." She spoke, her voice heavy with an unidentifiable emotion. The man cries out, his hand stabbing her in the back with his blade. She rips out his heart before recoiling like a retreating. "I regret I didn't kill you slow enough." She hissed through gritted teeth, it was not every day where she actually got injured.. it hurt, damn it hurt. The blade dug into her flesh at the shoulder, but her need possessed her stronger than the need to help herself.. His heart was in her hands, she almost cups it with care so it would not lose blood on the way back to the man that lay there, helpless.

She strides quickly to his side, long powerful leg carry her there with haste. "Drink, drink my sweet." She coos as the worry cloud her judgement, a small bit of pain floods her voice. All the illusions are gone now as though they never existed, her mind entirely fixated upon him. She grabs his hand with tender precision, placing the wet, bleeding heart in his hand, aiding his hand now to his lips. She waits until she sees his jaw swallow the still warm liquid. Now this part would surely hurt, but he needed his strength before she could do anything. "That's it. You need it all, so I can do what needs to be done.." She sighs, searching helplessly for his eyes, as she crouched down at his side. She caresses the side of his face in such a tender and loving way, so uncharacteristic to this calloused creature. The blood upon her finger tips leaving a trail where she touched. He needed her now, more than ever. She would never be the same.