Darkness swallows her as those thick lashes close over baby blues that had held within their depths a fear unlike any she'd ever felt. It was a fear that she would leave this world in a cold heap, crimson blood pooling around her shoulders as it trickles freely from her jugular. It was a fear that all those days she'd spent dreaming of what her life could have been, dreaming of the places she swore to herself she would see were nothing more than just that; a dream never to come true. There had been so much has that the blue-eyed blonde had wanted to do with the many years she'd thought she'd had ahead of her. There were so many places she had promised herself to see, so many things she had craved to know about the world around her and so many experiences she had hoped to feel... To think that in only a few fleeting moments, something once so full of light and wonder could be snuffed out like the flame of a brightly burning candle in a sudden icy gust seemed almost unfair if not cruel. Perhaps she should have died then, for what human could truly have survived such an attack from such a surreal assailant, a creature that very much existed when so much of the world surely questioned the reality of supernatural beings? Maybe that weak heartbeat should have just ceased altogether, beating one last time before remaining forever still as the cold embrace of Death took her long before he should have. Maybe that last whispering breath that had ushered his name should have been her last, that sterling voice never again to be heard by the world.

Yet, in spite of the fact that she should not have survived the encounter with that man shrouded in shadow who'd proven to be something much worse than any stranger Beylani had ever thought she might run into here in three big city, that weakened heart kept on beating from within her breast as she fought fiercely to hold onto that glimmer of light. There was truly no telling how it was that she had survived, what it was that seemed to give her the strength to keep on drawing that shaken breath that kept her within the mortal world despite how precariously close to that edge she undeniably was, but whatever it was that gave her that will to fight would prove to be her saving grace in the end and pull her from the darkness that was known as the afterlife and whatever it was that waited on the other side for those departed souls. Even as she slips into unconsciousness, the burning pain still racing viciously through her veins though it no longer spread sending her brain and body into an obvious state of shock at the inability to endure another moment, she does not loosen that hold and before there is complete and total darkness, she is able to feel those strong fingers of his squeeze ever so gently against hers and a sense of calm and peace washes over the young woman. If his hand is the last one I hold, then at least I know I won't be alone... This is her last wavering thought that flickers across her mind that begins to grow frighteningly still when suddenly, unsure if it was simply because another sensation of her body that worked in a state of emergency urged by instinct to preserve itself or something else, she no longer feels the cold, hard concrete beneath her. Suddenly, that warmth she desperately wanted to feel wraps around her and she seems to become weightless. She gives one more final push to awareness and those eyes flutter for only the smallest of moments to realize that he was holding her in those strong arms, pressing her gently close to his bare skin as he lifted his own strong frame upwards with her safely tucked close to him. She can feel his head resting lightly over her own and she is able to hear him whisper softly to her, and then she is unable to hang onto the last remaining sliver of awareness and she slips again into darkness.

His warmth surrounds her, and somewhere lost in the dark she can hear those tenor tones though she is unable to decipher what it was they meant, wholly at the mercy of the decision that the dark fae man would make. The next fleeting sensation that she feels is that same weightlessness accompanied by icy cold that causes her slender frame to begin shivering unbidden as it fights to drink in the warmth of Andras' skin against the thin fabrics of the Tinkerbelle costume stained with blood both of the wearer and the being that had nearly claimed her life for the sake of his own gluttonous hunger. All sense of time is lost to Beylani as her body remains nestled into the faintest and distant warmth that was only just enough to keep the biting cold that only seemed to intensity as though it were fighting for entire control over the young woman somewhere within herself at bay. It was a scary thing, the stillness that draped over that ever curious and ever eager mind of the blue-eyed blonde, and had anyone who knew Beylani been able to glance into the thoughts of the young woman they would be indeed been fearful for that delicate string of life because never in all the short years she had lived and grown through has her light ever glowed so weakly. And yet it still continued to glow in spite of the bleak darkness, still whispered that the life within remained. She does not hear through howling of the wind as they race through the sky, does not feel the shadows that seeped across her frame and the fae man's, does not register that sudden loss of gravity as they are falling through the air only to have their weightless descent eased by those bat-like appendages that break that rapid fall and change it into something gentler before they are eased back to the earth. Little did she know that she was far, far away from Sacrosanct and in a place hidden away where no one would ever think to look for her - or could for that matter.

Then, there is no cold that claws at her skin. A warmth overwhelms her still shivering frame that struggles to adjust to the sudden change surrounding it. She is no longer weightless as he lowers her to the cushions of the couch and there is a moment where she is almost able to rise from that darkness but fails to fully come to. Instead she is only just able to feel something soft wrap around her before once again she is weightless. However, this time that barely felt sensation of floating on air only lasts for a fraction of time before again she is lowered into something soft and warm. Only moments pass before finally the last of that threatening cold seems to melt away beneath those covers that were placed delicately over her and there she remained. Everything was so quiet and so still... Time continued to move on, minutes turned into hours and slowly that blue tint to her lips changed back to their same blush-colored hue while that flame of life grew stronger with those unknown moments that came and went. It was only when the light of morning begins to break through the darkness that slowly, steadily her consciousness was returned to her. Those this lashes blink weakly over baby blues and at first all she can see is blurred shapes. Where... Where am I? A soft groan escapes her as a fierce ache reminds her of all that she'd endured, of how close to death she'd come. Then, she remembers... Andras...

Blurred shapes become clearer as the minutes pass her by as she awakens further and baby blues find him sitting there in the chair nearby, leather appendages draped wearily behind the back from his seat. Had he stayed awake the entire night? What time was it? Where was she? Despite everything, a small smile dances across those weary features of her own."Andras?", she ushers weakly, clesrly still recovering from the ordeal she'd miraculously overcome. A part of her wonders if she had died and if perhaps he was nothing more than an illusion, but the crimson hue of dried blood staining the bare skin of his well defined and certainly toned torso promised her that this was very much real, that she was still very much alive... and that he was very much shirtless. "I never imagined you as part of my heaven", she speaks again, this time trying her best to offer some miniscule degree of humor in light of all that had happened though there is too much pain for her to offer him a gentle note of laughter. She tries to stir within those warm covers in an attempt to get a better look around her to see if perhaps there were pillars made of cumulus to assure her that she had moved on into the afterlife only to be rewarded with a sharp pain that steals away her breath for a moment, but it was with relief that she found that cold yet burning sensation previously igniting her veins nowhere to be found or felt. That had to be a good thing, right? She looks to him, that fae man with normally smoothed locks now in disarray and the commonly found devilish grin gone from his handsome features, hazel eyes seeming to be locked solely upon her despite the exhaustion she could see in them.