Scarlett (Second Edition) by Karima Saad Usman novel Chapter 65

Scarlett’s POV

The day had been long and filled with responsibilities, most of which were still unfamiliar to me. Lucian had insisted that I learn how the pack house was run since, as Luna, I’d be expected to take charge one day.

At first, I’d felt unsure, even a bit out of place, as though this role was a cloak too big for my shoulders. But as the day wore on, my doubts slowly began to melt away. I found myself fitting into the rhythm, feeling a strange comfort in the structure of it all. I held onto the hope that, in time, we would grow close, that love would eventually follow.

Still, I couldn’t ignore the nagging worry about my wolf. I was running out of time–if I turned nineteen and she still hadn’t appeared, the reality of being wolfless would be unavoidable. A wolfless Luna, a Vladislav without a wolf; I could already imagine the murmurs, the doubts, the questioning stares. I tried to keep faith in whatever the goddess had planned for me, praying there was some hidden purpose to all of this. The unease tugged at me, but I kept it buried beneath the duties of the day.

I also found myself wondering about Lucian and the others, what they might uncover from Elsa. I’d wanted to go with them, to be by their side, but I didn’t

want to seem needy or insecure, so I’d let them go without me. Now, in the quiet moments, I felt an ache of loneliness and a small voice of doubt, wishing I

had gone.

As I moved around the pack house, I couldn’t help noticing that the workers were distant, their expressions guarded whenever I passed. Being a Vladislav

was clearly a scar that ran deeper than I’d thought. While no one dared openly disrespect me, the coldness in their eyes was unmistakable. I tried to offer a

friendly smile here and there, to soften the atmosphere, but it made little difference. They tolerated me, but it was clear they didn’t like me. I swallowed the

sting of it, grateful that they, at least, kept their opinions to themselves.

Determined to learn more about my mates and their preferences, I decided to head to the kitchen. I knew there was tension between Bianca, the head of the

kitchen, and me she had made no secret of her disdain since I arrived. Still, I hoped we could move past it, that she would show me a bit of kindness.

As soon as I stepped into the bustling kitchen, the lively chatter and clanging/pots fell silent. Every gaze turned in my direction, and an uncomfortable weight filled the air. None of them met my eyes, and I realized it was out of/respect–or maybe out of fear. Lucian had declared me as Luna, after all, though it seemed like a title that rested uneasily on everyone’s shoulders, including my own.

“Who’s in charge here?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and as friendly as possible, despite the awkward tension hanging between us. Several workers looked

toward the end of the first row.

The kitchen was arranged with precise efficiency: five distinct rows of tasks, each with its specific role. The first row handled the preparation of ingredients, the second row was for cooking, the third was all about pastries, the fourth held the ovens for baking, and the final row plated and served the meals. At the end of the first row, Bianca sat, positioned so she could observe the entire kitchen. She looked every bit the overseer,

her posture rigid as gaze harp,

she watched her team work.

her

I offered her a smile, a small gesture, hoping it might ease the tension. But Bianca’s expression remained blank, unreadable, her eyes meeting mine without warmth. Steeling myself, I walked over to her, determined not to let the discomfort deter me. If I was going to be Luna, I had to stand confidently, even if

kindness didn’t come in return.

1/2