Page 27 of His To Claim

“Thought you said I could walk you,” he calls out, catching up to me.

“I said I’d let you show me the way. But that isn’t necessary anymore,” I reply, not bothering to look back at him. Servite Academy’s campus is massive, and the buildings divide the campus into four sections. The North, East, South, and West. By process of elimination, I now know which direction to take toward Westerly Hall.

Nine

SCARLETT

“We need to talk,” Ace demands, his voice deep and raspy making the hairs on the back of my neck stand as he follows close behind me. I don’t understand the effect he has on me but the more I try to ignore it, the stronger it becomes. That doesn’t stop me from trying.

“I have nothing to say to you,” I shout, quickening my pace hoping he’ll give up and let me go on my own. Yeah right. Around us students are rushing toward their classes, but slow down to give us a second look. Their glares cut through me as they see me disrespecting their king.

“Then you’ll listen.” He reaches for me, grabbing hold of my wrist, causing me to turn around angrily, shooting daggers at him with my glare.

“What the fuck is it with you Servite men that makes you think you can put your dirty hands on me? Let. Me. Go.” I utter, mouthing every word slowly as I try to pull away. It’s useless. Atonly five foot four, Ace towers over me, his body swallowing me whole as he stands above me.

“I won’t let go, not until you listen, and regarding my uncle putting his hands on you, I won’t let that happen again. Ever.” He leans in close to me, our lips again almost coming into contact and my breathing shifts slightly at the closeness of him. His eyes are dark and filled with anger or is it desire.

I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. The two emotions seem interchangeable when we’re around each other.

As soon as he catches himself staring down at my mouth as my tongue sneaks out to lick my bottom lip, he abruptly steps back letting go of my wrist.

I gently rub the sensitive skin where the touch of his calloused hands burned me, a slight red mark visible on my pale skin. Shifting his gaze down at wrist, I almost see a shred of regret cross his eyes for gripping me so tightly but it instantly vanishes as his body stiffens, his glare right back to being murderous.

“There is no need for him to dirty his hands with the likes of you,” he sneers, and there it is. The true reason behind his anger. Not anger, nor desire, nor jealousy, but disgust.Why would his uncle dirty his hands with lowly old me?

“Yeah, well, you let him know to keep his hands off me and frankly tell him to just stay the fuck away from me. Like I told you, the next time either of you, or anyone dares to put their hands on me will be their last.”

My fury makes him laugh, a mocking chuckle leaving his lips as he stares amused. “Now, now, Little Red, no need to be overdramatic. I still haven’t put my hands on you, not really. And you can be sure that when I do, you won’t be begging me to stop.”

“In your dreams, Ace,” I scoff, storming off as we reach the entrance of Westerly Hall, another large gray brick building surrounded by tall trees and a few tables and benches. No surprise there. Compared to the impressive size of the campus and thephysical appearance and wealth of its inhabitants, the architecture of the academy is mediocre.

As I step inside, I look around and see students are no longer roaming the hallways. Hoping to find lecture room 2A on my own, so I won’t have to ask Ace for directions, I see it’s the second door on the right side. Unfortunately, just as I’m about to reach for the handle, the bell rings.

Fuck. I’m late, and on my first day. Way to make a first impression, Scarlett. Well, second impression, since everyone has already decided what they think of me without even knowing anything about me. Especially after last night at the party and this morning at the assembly. Poor, temperamental, possibly a criminal, but above all, unworthy of attending the prestigious Servite Academy.

I move to grab the handle of the door but pause when I sense a large body behind me. Again, my body stiffens at his closeness, a shiver running through me from the heat emanating from him.Get a grip, Scarlett.

“Didn’t I clarify I wanted you to leave me alone?” I sneer, not bothering or trusting myself to turn to him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Red. I’m just trying to get inside my class.” I freeze at his answer. Fuck no. He’s in my homeroom class. “Any day now, Red. Need I remind you we’re already late, and on your first day.”

With a loud irritated grunt, I pull down the door handle nearly falling forward as the door screeches open. Inside all eyes turn to me including the man seated at the front desk. My eyes shift around the large room, which is not a typical classroom obviously, but a fifty-seat theater with individual desks and plush chairs. The walls themselves are a bright white, sterile color while the desks are a shiny, black wood, and the chairs lush and a deep burgundy color.

Each student has in front of them a brand-new MacBook open and ready to type away, but their glares are stuck on Ace and me at the front of the classroom. They are all impeccably dressed in theacademy’s uniform and look every bit the part of pretentious prep school punks, unlike me who looks every bit the imposter I am in this getup.

“Miss Steele,” the man seated at the front of the class, who I assume is the teacher, says as he stands and faces us. He’s tall with broad shoulders, dressed in crisp black slacks, a white-collared shirt, and a dark red V-neck sweater. Dark hair combed perfectly in place, and dark eyes hidden behind black-rimmed glasses.

Shit, are all adults here this young and damn good looking? No wonder the students here actually pay attention in class. I would have back at Pleasant Hills High if our teachers looked like they belonged on the cover of GQ Magazine. Instead, they all looked like they belonged in a convalescent home, or worse, six feet under.

“You’re late,” he utters as he steps in our direction. “Not sure how things were at your previous institution, but here at Servite Academy and specifically in this class, tardiness is unacceptable.”

Before I try to explain myself, Ace pushes past, almost knocking me over.

“Sorry, Macallan, it’s my fault we’re late. Little Red here was lost, you know her first day and all in a big new school. It can seem daunting for someone of her background,” he jabs making me roll my eyes at his dig. “Good student that I am, I had to show her that Servite Academy hospitality and show her the way,” he adds, winking at me.

God, he’s good. Of course, he knows exactly what to say, his effortless charm just radiating off of him.

“Of course, Mr. Servite, I understand,” Macallan, as he called him, says with a nod. “You did well. Please, if you’d now find your seat. Miss Steele, I’m sure you can find your own seat, next to Mr. Servite of course.” He smirks up at me with a lewd stare that makes me all too uncomfortable.

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