Enticing Blood

*chapter ten

"Wylde?" Melanie knocked softly on the door with her knuckle and listened closely for any sound of reply or movement inside his room.

There was no answer.

Going out on a limb, Melanie wrapped her hand around the doorknob and twisted it and slowly pushed the door open. The light from the hall trailed into the dark room and illuminated the bed that had a sleeping body that lay strung out, only dressed in a pair of dark jeans and three empty bottles of Vodka laying next to him.

Melanie sighed and walked into the room and next to his bed. She grabbed the empty bottles and placed them on the nightstand, then she turned back to Wylde, who looked so peaceful with his eyelashes that fluttered against his pale cheeks. Underneath the layer of his tan skin rippled hard-earned muscle and it cast shadows across his toned flesh.

Warily, Melanie stepped forward and placed her hand on his shoulder and slightly shook him, but he didn't respond with so much of a stir. Again, she shook him, a little rougher this time, and he still yet to wake up.

"Wylde." She said, shaking him harder, but he just moaned and turned to his side. He was hopeless. He was so drunk, he wasn't going to wake up until tomorrow.

Melanie sighed and she eyed the empty bottles stacked on his nightstand; then a wicked idea popped into her mind.

He had this one coming. She thought with an evil smirk.

Grabbing one of the empty Vodka bottles, she walked quietly into Wylde's connected bathroom and made her way to the sink. Flicking up the sink handle, she stuck the bottle underneath the tap and filled it up to the brim, then with a smile in the mirror, she made her way back into the bedroom and to the bedside.

He deserves this. She told herself with a cheeky grin.

Carefully, she carried the bottle just over Wylde's body, then slightly tipping the bottle, she doused Wylde with the water right onto his bare chest. The water splashed against his skin and carried droplets up to his neck and chin.

In seconds, Wylde was awake and angry. He shot up in bed and was on his feet in seconds. He grabbed Melanie by her throat and faster than she could blink, slammed her against a wall. Melanie hadn't registered what had happened until she was staring into Wylde's cold eyes with a shattered bottle at her feet.

A cold layer of frost coated her skin and cocooned her in a shell.

Wylde looked like he was ready to kill.

To kill her.

His eyes stared deeply into hers, his fingers latched around her throat and his body pressing her against the wall. Melanie tried to gasp for air, but his fingers worked like a barricade around her delicate windpipe. With every stolen breath, she could feel her head starting to spin on her shoulders.

Helplessly, Melanie groped at Wylde, digging her nails into his flesh and trying to push him away. She tried to pry off his hands from her, but he didn't move so much of a muscle to let her go.

She wished that she still had the bottle so she could smash it against his head, but she was powerless. She felt the world slipping away and she slumped in his grip, her eyes fighting to stay open and alert.

The lack of oxygen was really taking a toll on her.

As if something had snapped inside of Wylde, like a light switch being flicked on, his fingers suddenly let go of her throat. His eyes softened and he stepped back with a look of fear on his face. Melanie gasped and sucked in a deep breath of air and heaved, buckling over and wrapping her fingers protectively around her throat.