The Year 3000

Chapter 39: Mine

WE'RE GETTING VERY CLOSE TO THE END

ONLY A FEW CHAPTERS LEFT

OH MY GOD

WOW

PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE

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Scarlett's POV

Previously:

"You are mine, Scarlett. Now and forever. Mine." The words hung in the air long after Harry had closed his mouth. I didn't have to look down to know what he had carved into my chest, what was slowly scarring over, branding me as his property always.

H. S.

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My heartbeat refused to slow down. It was as if the mark—the branding—itself was forcing my heart to convulse suddenly, leaving me breathless, dazed, and more than slightly nauseous. Even after Harry had stepped away from my bleeding figure, I couldn't calm myself. His initials burned like someone had set fire to my skin and was pouring salt in the wound.

It felt wrong.

I wanted to claw the mark off my chest. Do something, anything, to make it go away. If Harry could sense my panic, he didn't show it. His face was an emotionless mask as he dragged his gaze from mine over to the two guards still holding me.

"Take her to my room and make sure she stays there. No one goes in or out without my say so. Got it?" His voice could've been carved out of stone. His eyes weren't much better. If anything, they looked to be colder. I shuddered slightly. But the guards simply saluted to their commanding officer and gripped my arms tightly enough to leave bruises. The one on my right glanced down at the mark on my chest and quickly looked away. I feared to see what it looked like, what I looked like. Though I was sure the mark had scarred over by now, I was also sure that the blood had not faded. And, guessing by how much it burned, there were probably red welts surrounding the H.S. like a terrible sunburn.

Vampires weren't supposed to have scars.

I didn't protest as the two men began dragging me away, because I knew there was no point. They went around to the back of the Palace, using the servants' entrance. There would be no Rebellion members here. No one would be here. We had just reached the narrow staircase that led up to the main floors when the screams started.

I visibly flinched.

By now, everyone knew the antidote was fake, the wolves had attacked, and the battle was commencing once more. I knew the Kings' anger would be vicious, but the Rebellion was fighting for their way of life, for their freedom. I didn't know which was more powerful. What made it all worse was that I couldn't help, I couldn't fight. So I was forced to endure the sounds of battle until they slowly faded off into a quiet hum the farther we traveled from the main entrance. Shortly after that, a heavy silence descended. It was in the air, in the floor, in the walls. Everything was so silent, I wondered briefly if the world had all-of-the-sudden fallen asleep.

Not even our footsteps echoed in the dimly lit stairwell. All of the noise had just . . . disappeared.

I almost screamed when one of the guards spoke up.

"Here we are."

I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't bothered to notice we had come out on the Kings' floor. Harry's room stood menacingly in front of me, its large oak door tall and imposing. Much like Harry himself, I noted.

The guard not holding onto my limp figure unlocked and opened one of the doors for the other guard to haul my body through. The plush carpet sighed underneath my feet as I stumbled into the room, barely catching myself before I fell. I was still woozy, but I blamed it on the initials searing their way into my chest.