The silver strand cuts the flesh of her neck as it chokes her, the material easily identifiable by the burning sensation. She doesn’t need to see the shine to know the metal, the weapon, and even if she wanted to, it would’ve been impossible, it all happened too fast. Coupled with the near immediate start to asphyxiation, she can feel the sharp blade slicing her hand. The safety of the hilt of the weapon is gone, the weapon meant to inflict pain on others is now joining the attack on her, her initial thought of using it against her assailant only adding to her current predicament.
The lack of oxygen making it impossible to process what is happening, the speed of the entire encounter is beyond anything she could have imagined before, all the planning, all the training came to this, and she didn’t even come close.
She didn't hear a single sound. She didn't feel a presence. She didn't even scent a single scent. She didn't even know that her plan was foiled until she was already in the grips of death.
Green eyes look wildly around the room, fixing on the only person that can save her now. An unnaturally handsome face is bathed in the silvery moonlight which enters the partially closed blinds, his face looks serene, completely unaware of what is happening in the bed beside him.
A gurgle escapes her throat as she looks at her one and only savior. He doesn't even stir, and she knows with her last breath she needs to try harder. Self-preservation kicking in as the blade in her hands drops and her fingers claw at the object of her demise, her fingertips getting red raw from the highly corrosive material, her perfectly manicured nails, tearing in the effort. She cannot gain a single millimeter of space, no chance of being able to take that deep breath, being able to fill her lungs with that life-saving vapor.
She opens her mouth in an effort to scream, to say anything to let him know of her peril.
At the same time, a hand clamps over her mouth, yet the tension on her neck does not lessen in the slightest. Any hope of alerting her savior is dashed. The hand sealing the last gasp. Her only chance, any residual breath gone.
She will die, and she'll never even know the perpetrator.
"Arrabella, that would be an incredibly bad move"
A chilling voice sounds in her ear, her skin prickles and an involuntary shiver runs down her spine, her super heated body breaks into a cold sweat, not because of the violence in the words, just because they are eerily calm, a voice that she knows all too well yet has rarely heard, a monotone voice which still even in this highly stressful moment doesn’t even raise a single octave.
It is Ve, of course it is Ve. It should’ve been expected, but it is the most unexpected thing in the world. If Arrabella still held the ability to breathe she would’ve gasped in shock.
Cold violet eyes stare at the back of the blonde head, the mass of shiny golden locks rapidly dampening as she stills the thrashing body with her own limbs. There is a hint of brutality shining in her eyes. As much as she hates this part, she can’t say there isn’t a tiny sliver of pleasure in her heart for this particular one.
Ve’s hand twists once more, the thin silver strand cutting into her hand, slicing her, wounding it as badly as the throat it is wrapped tightly around.
The silver strand which is usually coiled neatly around her wrist, appearing as nothing more than a strange bracelet if anyone was to actually catch a glimpse, is once again used for its original purpose. She can feel the life leaving the body below her.
Arrabella’s hazy gaze fixes on the man beside her, she feels weak, her hands have dropped back to the bed, her fingertips are torn, but her wolf is too weak to heal her and, at this point, that bit of damage is not the part which is threatening her life. She silently begs as tears run down her beautiful face, hitting the warm and brutal hand which is still clamped tightly over her mouth.
Her slowing heart jumps as Rhys rolls in the bed, readjusting himself in his sleep. She waits for his eyes to open, she desperately wants him to feel her turmoil.
Ve’s face scrunches as her violet eyes meet the face of the prince, she doesn’t release her grip, she doesn’t try to escape or even move as she counts 1..2..3. A soft snore escapes the man's lips before he settles once more. Ve nods to herself as she concentrates on the woman below her.
Arrabella’s tears fall harder, her only ability that she has left. She has considered herself strong, all powerful, special beyond compare, she has lived in such privilege, yet this is it.
She feels her body yanked harshly back, her body is so weak, merely a puppet on strings. The strand around her throat is momentarily released, but she doesn't even have the strength to gulp the air as she should with her short reprieve. Just merely getting enough to hang onto life, her brain is a fog. The room spins around her. Her eyes, though hazy, remain clear on the figure on the bed all the way until she is pulled soundlessly out the window.
At first, she wasn't sure whether she has lost the ability to hear, but the sound of Rhys’ soft, even breath fills the room. The footsteps, the dragging of her body. Everything else is without sound. She takes one last look at the moon-bathed man, his chiseled features more prominent, his cleanly shaved face is immaculate, his golden tanned skin appearing white and ghostly in the moonlight, which doesn’t detract from his handsomeness, only adding an ethereal beauty to the otherwise strong man.
Arrabella feels deep regret in her heart before the panic sets in once more.
Ve hauls the other woman's body effortlessly though the window and out of the room. Arrabella's body hits the window frame hard in the process even though it could have been easily avoided.
The two, the one full of strength and one incapacitated, hop down from balcony to balcony down the many floors on the impressive stone and concrete structure that makes up the most magnificent castle. Each landing seeming more silent than the last, as if the silence is more echoing. The jolt of each landing and the pain that shoots through Arrabella’s body, she feels as if it should make a cacophonous sound. How can something so painful not be announced to the entire world?
This is the most torturous thing she has ever endured and yet there is no one to fuss over her. Her whole life until now has been easy, filled with love and admiration, and on the eve of it reaching its peak, she is here.
How can she suffer in such silence, so frighteningly alone?
They hit the ground, the lush green grass breaks the final part of their fall, perfect uniform green, neatly maintained grass has a layer of dew in the cool night, the magnificent gardens wrap around them, sheltering them as Arrabella is dragged by the collar of her silk and lace sleep tank-top.
The pressure on her neck is gone, yet her body is just as hopeless as before, her wolf is completely unresponsive. While the grass should provide such a cushion below her, the dead weight of her dragging body seems to tear up her skin with equal vengeance.
"I don't understand your thought process, you were in such an advantageous position, yet you still chose to take this path…"
Ve’s voice is still calm, but it is the closest to having an inflection that Arrabella has heard from the unassuming woman. It is the closest she has heard to Ve spitting venom. When it should’ve happened so many times before, there's been ample opportunity, yet everything has always been met with an unresponsive silence.
"..... I really didn't think that you would take the offer, and when you did, I didn't think you were vicious enough to carry it through, and while I've never had good feelings toward you, I thought you were at least smarter than that…."
Ve looks back at the blonde behind her with a click of her tongue and a shake of her head. She looks at the woman with disdain and a glimmer of disappointment.
Arrabella's blonde hair, which usually has every single strand in its place, is now in disarray, her makeup, which is usually on point, is now ruined, the sweat beads glimmer in the moonlight. Her make-up now smudged down her face with her tears still running in a constant stream. Red marks on the usually golden, flawless skin, remnants of the struggle. A disgusting layer of snot under her nose, saliva surrounding her mouth, all the sticky substances that she doesn't have the strength to wipe.
"... And the thing that really bothers me so much is that you've had three days, yet you leave it till the day I return. I knew what you were planning to do, and I would have foiled it anyway…."
Ve looks towards the front again, her back as straight as a pin even under the load, her teeth clenched, her jaw tight and her violet eyes as cold as ever.
"... I guess I should thank you for not disrupting my plans…"
Ve purses her lips, her nostrils flaring in displeasure. If it had’ve been a day earlier, she wouldn't have been subjected to that, that which still hurts her heart.
"... I just can't understand why you would want to leave it until I returned. It just shows the level of contempt you have for me. I understand the stupid idea behind it and how you reasoned it out in that idiotic head of yours. You wanted to pin this on me, make me the scapegoat. You just don't understand anything the way you should, you don’t even know that they don’t think enough of me to even believe that I'm capable…"
Arrabella's hazy green eyes look around, willing herself to shout but her throat is all but useless. There has to be someone to help her at this point, but as her eyes look around her with her small range of motion, her neck is agonizing with every movement. The guards that she expects in the heavily secured area are nowhere to be seen. Ve is making no attempt to hide them. She is not moving at any fast pace to conceal them. Her voice is at standard level yet no one comes to intercept them.
There are so many points that Arrabella feels like she should have been saved from this fate, but today is just filled with bad luck, her privileged life turning so bad so fast until her end.
"...You could've had it all instead you decided to be too greedy and that is why you are here"
A barely audible sob escapes Arrabella's usually rose pink lips, which are now white and chapped as they leave the open grass area, and she's dragged into the tree line. Rocks and sticks penetrate her skin, tearing it apart.
All she can feel is pain and all she can see is darkness.