Robin’s jaw clenched tight when those cold fingers grabbed her wrists. The jaw tightened and what sounded like a low growl came from her when those cold fingers squeezed. It was extremely hard not to struggle or try to pull away as the pain grew worse. The pressure was more intense than she could imagine and she mentally cursed them for this. That woman was just messing with her and that pissed her off. Her eyes had closed from the pain and the attempt to hold back any form of painful cries when she felt Raven shift.<br/><br/>Her eyes opened at his words. Now he was fighting for her? She couldn’t believe what was going on. It took the bones in her wrist to, most likely be bruised, before he realized this woman was full of it. So Rabin had thought the same as Raven; that Guinevere had wanted her blood, but she didn’t have a history with the vampiress. The anger started to boil in her, mixing with the terror that was currently taking residence.<br/><br/>To say she was not scared would be arrogant, and stupid. She was scared, more than she had even been in her life but she wasn’t about to let it beat her. Especially to this vampiress. A few ‘calming’ breaths came from her at the loosened fingers. Though the sudden movement almost made her cry out, it had been to fast for her to properly respond. She caught herself, wincing when she put the sore wrist to work.<br/><br/>Flipping over onto her back her eyes went to what was going on. So that was what she was after. Her eyes caught something red glint in what light there was. Turning her head to face it she saw the handle of the dagger. A frown crossed her features for a moment when she focused her attention on the two of them, listening carefully to his words. Had he planned that? What was he getting at? Holding her sore wrist to her chest she clenched and unclenched it to get more circulation back the more she listened to him speak.<br/><br/>Her gaze caught his and realization dawned when he mentioned she would do anything for her mother. Slowly standing her good hand went to the handle, lifting it out while Guinevere was distracted. Before she could wonder if this was a good idea or not she lifted the dagger and jammed it in, right where Raven had indicated with his finger earlier. That part had confused her until now. “I…am not…a trollop, and you can go to hell.” She said pushing it in as far as she could with both hands. The wrist screaming at her the more pressure she put on it. She was shaking from both rage and stone cold fear. What would happen to her now?