Kayla Cumsalot 1844-332-2639 Ext 357
I once was prey, just like you. Weak, unseeing…mortal. That was until one late night in October when I got separated from my friends after a girls’ night in the city. We’d been drinking way too much and stumbled out of the club, intending to walk back to our hotel.
One minute I was behind them, and then my high heel got stuck in a grate. I bent down in the street to wiggle it free, and when I looked up again, they were gone. The road had been crowded and loud, but as I scanned either direction for my friends, the entire street was eerily quiet. Under the street lights, only puffs of steam stretched across the space between buildings. Finally, I called out for them, standing up with one shoe in my hand.
Prey To Predator
The only answer that came was the sound of footsteps growing nearer. They sounded loud and confident like the owner had no hesitation or doubts about who he was and what he wanted. I saw his legs first, long, sure strides coming towards me. Then his torso, he had a trim waist that stretched into wide shoulders. He continued toward me through the steam, but something inside me was screaming for me to run. I wanted to, I should have listened to my brain, but my body was frozen.
His face was stunning in the street lights. When he grinned, my knees buckled. A cold hand reached out, and his fingers brushed under my jaw. “You shouldn’t be out here all alone, pretty girl.” A British accent thickened his tone, and I leaned in even closer. My eyelashes fluttered when those icy fingers traced down my throat. I tried to swallow, I knew I should speak or scream, but I did nothing but lean into this predator’s grasp. His perfect smile bit into my jugular and drained me of my weakness.
It burned as his venom spiked my veins. I felt weak and strong all at once. “Easy sweet princess. You’ll never be prey again.” He whispered into my neck as I tried desperately to swallow around the raging thirst in my throat.
Kayla Cumsalot 1844-332-2639 Ext 357