Four days later, Scarlett had nothing in common with the young girl I had met at Inverness airport almost a year earlier. Her beautiful red hair had turned very fair, almost blond, and her white skin was marbled with bluish veins. She was so pale. It wasn’t her anymore. This skin that I had loved to stroke so much, I could no longer touch it. She was cold as death and gave me shivers of disgust. I couldn’t control this revulsion, I hated it. Because I loved Scarlett. I loved her from the depths of my being, with all my soul.
Only her scent still linked her to her humanity. Oddly enough, after four days, her scent was still the same: sweet, almost divine to my sense of smell. She hadn’t yet inherited the metallic, sour and unbearable scent of dark angels. Not now but soon...
“She’s calmer
