Human nature dictated that she should run, to claw her way to safety where she would survive. Even if the chances of living were close to none a human would struggle through, reaching out for whatever ledge they could grasp on to. Their bodies were made to endure the pain and fight until they gave out, shock and adrenaline being the gifts to aid in the game to escape Death. They were only mortal, possessing just one life that seemed so short in the eyes of others.<br/><br/>But Iris was not the fragile being who shared a short lifespan, she was not a human woman who would turn pale when her life was nearing an end. She clawed, kicked, and tore her muscles at the force she tried to throw at him. Only because it was her human reaction to do so, all while her mind knew well what the outcome would be. It was enough to calm her movements, remembering her curse while his form weighed her down. The taste of his kiss never left her mouth, and for a moment she was sure Roan would take her as the bones of his hips painfully stabbed against her. A gasp would have escaped her lips to the force of his bulge against her sex, and she would have questioned if his abuse was thrilling enough to arouse him.<br/><br/>Instead she stared up at him, eyes wide as they reflected his image. At that moment he was the most important soul in her life, his hands holding her undivided attention. What would his thoughts bring if he learned the truth of what he'd captured? The distress was clear as the pressure only increased, building behind her eyes and rushing blood through her veins while her pulse screamed. Iris widened the part of her lips, wanting to scream at him but only managing a choked rattle. His weight settled on her stomach when he shifted, constricting her further while weakening legs began to lose their fight underneath him.<br/><br/>She was sure he could snap her neck, with how detailed his touches were along her spine she expected it. The shake of his hands almost proved her suspicions, his powerful grip had no issue in yanking the delicate throat he aimed to crush. Yet she remained there, alive with nails digging and mouth widening in a silent cry. It almost seemed as if she were suffering through the torment rather than fighting for her life, dealing with a painful injury that would eventually heal. Her fear was not quite completely there, and if he had seen the terror in her gaze it would have begun to fade to something less predictable. Acceptance.<br/><br/>Her eyes dimmed, vision blurring at the edges while peering past his form. Roan's expression distorted with the clouds that diluted her sight, leaving her to a shadowed blanket that pulled over to take her eyes away. Releasing the stabs of her nails she gave his wrists a tight squeeze, similar to that of a mother's short grip that held the soothing promise that everything would be alright. The effort of her fight fled while her body stilled, hands falling away to settle in the chaos of sheets around her as the darkness pulled her under.<br/><br/>Heart slowing from it's frenzy, she lowered her eyelids before the pull of unconsciousness beckoned her. He granted her an easy way to end her struggle, the loss of breath that was meant to power her body forced her to into sleep at the end. Her brain would follow in the suffering if his determination refused to lessen, oxygen lost while the strength of his hands cracked fragile vertebrae and refused the flow of her blood. Death by strangulation was not the quickest way to die, but still invigorating for someone who wanted to feast on every last second of a closing life.