She cries, her tears burning down her face, as fangs pierce her neck and two sets of hands hold her down, keeping her helpless.
"Slayer's blood" one of them hisses, and a sob escapes her lips. This was it. This was how she was going to die. Giving one final struggle, she manages to throw one off balance long enough to take a weak breath before she receives a sharp blow to her face. Pain shoots through her head, and she stops fighting, surrendering.
"Hey. Mind if I crash the party?"
Weak from blood loss, she can't place the familiar voice, but finds comfort in it anyway.
Then she's in his arms, safe from the world, if only for a moment.
And then there's a fairytale moment, and he's kissing her, soft at first, then harder, deeper, needy. But he pulls away.
"We can't do this."
And he's gone, back into the shadows, leaving her to wonder why she had been fighting to save herself in the first place.