DARK FATE (Scarlett of the wolves #1)

The night and the pouring rain made it difficult for me to see them clearly, but I knew what was to follow would be incredibly violent. They were standing, face to face, ready to confront each other over me. They were breathing hard, like rabid beasts. With one last effort, I managed to get up and lean against the wall, my muscles so sore that I wondered how I managed to stand. I felt pain everywhere. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I held my breath, and my heart beat faster. I felt ringing in my ears and tingling in my eyes, and I started to shake. Suddenly, I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. I was sinking in a dark and endless abyss. Kaley, We’re stuck in traffic on the A1. My father is bellowing like a bull as if he’s not used to this Parisian traffic. It’s the same every year! It’s boring... You can imagine I was in a bad mood this morning. I can’t believe my parents did this to me! You realize I’m going to spend my eighteenth birthday at Wick! It’s a nightmare... It’s not normal. Any young girl my age should be able to celebrate this important event, but I’m going to find myself all alone in that godforsaken country! But what did I do to the Good Lord, to deserve this, eh? Luckily, I have this damn Smartphone. Thanks to it, we won’t be completely disconnected, all isn’t lost... Once again, I take on the role of a killjoy. My father is overjoyed to leave behind his architectural practice, and my mother feels the same about her high school teaching position. I can see them now, both sitting in front of me. They look like two electric batteries! My mom keeps combing her hair (like she needs it) and my dad is so excited he’s shaking at the thought of missing the plane. If only... Oh, I swear, how lucky you are not to have Scottish parents! You don’t have to go and discover your origins every year. I’m envious. I know, I know, I’m rambling... It isn’t that I’m not happy to see May. You know I love her, but it’s not the same as it used to be. Since she’s blind, we don’t go out much, and I still can’t spend my holidays in front of the fireplace! (Yes, even in summer, in Wick, we light the fire!) And besides, I don’t have my driving license yet! Millie (you know, May’s housekeeper) promised to be my driver whenever I needed it, but do you see me begging all the time? Argh... I’m sinking, Kaley, I’m sinking. These forced vacations will get the better of me, I’m telling you! And do you know what my mother is always telling me? “Your father grew up in Wick, and I in Kirkwall, and we didn’t die of boredom either.” Perhaps, in any case, that didn’t prevent them from fleeing Scotland to take refuge in Paris! But for what reason did my paternal grandfather, John, have to want to live in Wick with May? He would have done better to stay in Paris! But no, he had to fall in love with the Highlands and Eagleson Manor (my grandmother’s maiden name). And obviously, when he died, May refused to emigrate across the Channel... Pff... At least I’ll get some fresh air, as they say. Because there is air there! Of course, Scotland is beautiful. It may be the most beautiful place in the world, but not for two months! And you, I imagine that you’re going to the French Riviera, as usual? (It’s disgusting!) Well, I couldn’t even swim in the North Sea. Anyway... don’t worry, I’ll survive... well, I think so. If not, what have you decided on after the summer holidays? I ask you this because we have just graduated, and my parents are already bothering me to know what I want to do in September. But I really don’t know! College of Sorbonne, in History? Maybe... But you know what I would really like: to go to Australia for a year. My mom said no. She wants me to get a degree first. Obviously... But why do parents always feel compelled to disagree with everything? Okay, I’ll leave you, the airport is in sight. I’ll write to you when I get to Wick and try to be a little more cheerful, I promise. Your desperate old girlfriend, Scarlett. PS: Don’t forget to call me and give me the results of the exams. I know I passed, but hey, it’s always good to know. “You’re not very talkative, Scarlett Rittel,” says my father, looking in the rear-view mirror. “Still angry?” “I would have preferred to stay in Paris,” I grumbled. “You know, we already talked about it.” “Don’t look difficult, Scarlett,” he replied. It’s only a birthday, and your grandmother would be very disappointed if you didn’t come with us. You have responsibilities, my daughter. That’s the end of it.” And presto! The conversation was over. “I already miss Paris,” I said to have the last word. “Hmm... Paris? Or a possible Parisian boyfriend?” my mother says mischievously. “Mom! You know there’s no boyfriend!” But why did she always have to imagine I had them all circling around me? She was off the mark. Girls my age might be collecting boyfriends or were always looking for one, but not me. No way am I wasting my time flirting with an attractive biped. I didn’t care whether or not I was going to find my true love. Then again, maybe I wasn’t like everyone else... I was frustrated by boys my age. They looked nothing like me. I didn’t drink alcohol, didn’t smoke, and didn’t go out to nightclubs. I had more fun singing jazz with Aretha Franklin, Sarah Vaughan and Billie Holiday... Basically, I scared the guys away! Good for them! Falling in love seemed so irrational and meaningless to me in so many ways. In high school, I saw couples getting together and breaking up, fleeting love that left girls in a mess. Crying, slamming doors, “I’ll never get over it!” These situations seemed so torturous to me. I’m not trying to mock anyone’s pain, but can we talk about our problems before Defcon-1? In the beginning, we swore always to love each other. It ends, we cry a lot, and the following week we forget “the love of our life” by falling for the eyes of another one. Pff... Pathetic. Fortunately, I had never fallen into this trap before. The car slowed down and finally entered the long-term parking lot at the airport. All that remained was to take out the many suitcases from the minivan. As we were two hours early, after checking in, I was going to be able to stroll through the shops at the airport. My parents were going to lunch. I wasn’t hungry. May likes heady French perfume, so since the terminal is full of perfume, I will be able to make her happy. I would definitely be deprived of shopping for two months. I might as well take advantage of it now! I took the time to stroll in front of the windows to admire the decoration. The lights, the mirrors, the perfume bottles, the scents... everything you could ever want. As I walked past the displays, a huge wall mirror eyed me. I stopped in front and examined my reflection. I didn’t look like my parents. They are noticed everywhere they go, they are really very attractive. I have an ordinary face, pale with cheeks that turn pink too quickly for my liking. My eyes are light green, like my grandmother’s, and surrounded by long brown lashes. I have a small straight nose, high cheekbones and a mouth “in the shape of a heart,” as my father would say... My lips are rather full, but not wide enough and much too pink, which I find, doesn’t go at all with my hair colour. Argh, my hair... A disaster. So curly and thick that I can never do anything with it. And then it’s red—like my mother’s—which has earned me some unpleasant remarks since college. While famous American actresses make it an asset, I simply would have liked to change its colour. But that was without counting on my parents’ disapproval. They had sworn to strangle me if I did something like that, no matter how old I was. Yeah... Cutting short this shameless narcissism, I concentrated on choosing the perfect perfume for my grandmother. The choice was difficult, but I succeeded. I bought her a bottle praised by all perfumers, so as not to make a mistake. I still had time ahead of me. I made my way to the main hall because I had spotted a small restaurant earlier, with leather seats that looked quite comfy. I wanted to drink a Coke. First, I stopped at a newsstand and bought one of those useless celebrity magazines, just to read some sob stories. This literature wasn’t what I usually read, but when you’re moody like me, desperate times call for desperate remedies! I took the first one off the pile, paid for it, and went to sit at a small table for two. I spent a long time there, reading and sipping my drink, until, annoyed by the nonsense I was reading, I ended up doing the crosswords. They were filled in no time. The level was very low. Around half-past nine, I decided to meet my parents at the boarding gate. They were already there. “Ah! Scarlett! Ready to go?” my mother asked in English. Speaking our native language is really something between us. I have been familiar with it since I was little. We are used to juggling the two languages, as was my grandmother, for that matter. “Yes, I am. I have a present for May. I’m sure she’ll love it. I look forward to giving it to her!” The tone of my voice was almost too playful. But no one pointed it out to me. My parents seemed happy that I was in a hurry to see May. They were so convinced that I was really going to have an amazing two months. “Well, that’s perfect. You see, you just have to put a little effort into it. I’m sure you’ll love this vacation!” “Sure…,” I mutter. At the time, that was all my lips let pass to hide my disbelief.