The Year 3000

Chapter 19: Threats and Mishaps

Scarlett's POV

Previously:

The first thing I saw were his blue eyes, not a trace of injury in either of them. I couldn't believe it. My face was just about to lift, when I saw the rest of his condition. Luke was filthy, his hair in tangles around his shoulders. There was also a very prominent hand print quickly fading from his cheek. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Luke," I whispered.

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I'd made many mistakes in my life, but so did everyone—it was what made us human. Sadly, I no longer had that excuse. Still, mortal or immortal, everybody makes mistakes, because no one is truly perfect.

But this, this was by far the worst mistake I'd ever made. I had not only brought pain upon myself, but to the ones I loved. I'd dragged Luke into this horrible mess with me. If it wasn't for me, he would be at his camp right now, blissfully unaware of what it meant to be a blood slave. Now Luke probably hated me, and I would have to forever live with that hanging over my head. Colorless drops hit the wooden floor one after the other as I tried to control my breathing. Before I could process what was happening, strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist, pulling me into a warm chest. I felt all the air in my lungs go out in a whoosh. I immediately threw my arms around Luke's neck, burying my face into his shoulder as crushed me against him.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he sighed, his warm breath hitting the sensitive parts of my neck. I couldn't speak; I just gripped onto him, trying to memorize the way his chest felt pressed against mine, the way his arms fit perfectly as they wrapped around me.

"Are you okay? When he brought me here, Harry told me how you convinced him to reduce my sentence. I can't believe you would bargain yourself. I—What did he do to you? What happened? What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Luke pulled back, a look of pure concern coating his features, but that just made it worse. He held my face gently in his hands and wiped up my tears with his thumbs, but more quickly replaced them.

"I'm so sorry, Luke. You don't deserve this. You shouldn't be here. If I had just—"

"Scarlett, stop." Luke's voice cut through the air, making me blink. "Thank you, truly, for what you did for me. The dungeons were . . . Here, I have a bed, and I'm fed regularly. But I would take the dungeons a million times over before I would ever let you sell yourself for me." He was shaking his head, blue eyes alight with a mixture between amazement and anger. "What the were you thinking? I swear to—" Luke broke off as Harry cleared his throat.

Oh.

I had completely forgotten that Harry was watching us. Harry's eyes were burning holes through Luke's head and vice versa. With tensions skyrocketing, Luke's House Master, the vampire who owned the house and consequently Luke, stomped into the room at the worst moment possible. He was in his late twenties, wearing a white dress shirt and grey pants, with a loosened burgundy tie.

"Who's at the-" His voice cut off and his eyes widened as he recognized Harry. He did a deep bow. "Your Majesty! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

If I was looking anywhere else but at Luke's face, I would've rolled my eyes. His features held such hatred that I felt anger boiling in the pit of my stomach. I almost instinctively interlaced my fingers with Luke's, stepping closer to his side so that our hands would be out of Harry's line of vision. I gave him a reassuring squeeze, and relaxed slightly when the gesture was returned. Luke and I had never actually talked about what we were to each other, but I knew, in that moment, the feeling was mutual.