Isla Hart stood in front of her bathroom mirror, frustration bubbling inside her like a pot about to boil over. “Why is it so hard to be a girl in this city?” she ranted to her reflection, her voice barely above a whisper.“And not just any girl—a wolf-less girl trying to make it in a world that doesn’t care.” She sighed, running her fingers through her tangled hair.The dark circles under her eyes were a testament to the sleepless nights she had endured, working non-stop for the last three days, posing for cameras that barely noticed her.She reached for her concealer, dabbing it under her eyes in a futile attempt to mask the exhaustion that clung to her like a shadow. “Three days of grueling shoots, and for what? A paycheck that never comes,” she muttered, her heart sinking. “Two months without a dime, and I’m still stuck in this mediocre modeling gig.”The thought of her dreams slipping away made her chest tighten. She had the looks and the drive, but without connections, privilege,
Isla felt as if she were floating, suspended in a dream as she gazed into Liam Lockwood’s striking blue eyes. They were like deep pools of mystery, drawing her in and making her forget the chaos that had just unfolded. His face was sculpted to perfection, a blend of rugged masculinity and ethereal beauty that made her heart race. She had seen him before—on magazine covers, in articles, and all over the internet. The most handsome and richest man in New York City, heir to the Lockwood Industries fortune, a billion-dollar empire.But only those within the werewolf community knew the truth behind his wealth and beauty: his supernatural powers. The Lockwood pack was the strongest in the city, and with that strength came influence, power, and an undeniable alluring beauty that left everyone else in the dust.“Are you okay?” Liam’s voice broke through her reverie, and she blinked, momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, sh
Isla Hart sat on the worn-out couch in her small apartment, staring at the check that had changed her life. Three million dollars. It felt surreal, like a dream she couldn’t quite wake up from. Just a few weeks ago, she was drowning in debt, struggling to pay her rent, and worrying about her evil boss who delayed paying her salary for the past two months. Now, she had enough money to breathe, to live, and to finally take care of herself.With a smile creeping onto her face, she thought about how she had paid off all her rent dues. The weight that had been pressing down on her shoulders for so long had finally lifted. She could finally sleep without the gnawing anxiety of eviction. And then there was the refrigerator. Her old one had been a rusting hunk of metal, barely keeping her food cold. Now, she had a shiny new fridge, its stainless steel surface gleaming in the light of her tiny kitchen. It felt like a luxury she had never imagined she could afford.But the most astonishing chan
For the past few days, she had been rehearsing and training for her first Victoria's Secret runway show, and the excitement was building up inside her. She couldn't believe how different this experience was from her prior modeling job with the mediocre agency. There, she was just another face in the crowd, treated like a mere commodity rather than a person. But here, at Victoria's Secret, she was treated like an angel.As she thought about her former job, a shiver ran down her spine. She remembered the humiliation she had faced at the hands of her toxic boss, Jackie. The way she would belittle her, make her feel like she was nothing, and the way she would take credit for Isla's hard work. But now, as she stood in front of the mirror, surrounded by a team of makeup artists and hairstylists, she felt like a completely different person.The makeup artist, a kind and gentle woman named Sarah, was busy perfecting Isla's look. She applied a light layer of foundation, followed by a glitter d
As Isla walked back to her dressing room, she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. She slipped into a robe, covering up the white lingerie that had made her feel like a million bucks just hours before. Now, it felt like a reminder of the opportunity that Liam Lockwood had given her.Why had he done it? She wondered, her mind racing with possibilities. Was it because he saw something in her that no one else did? Or was it simply out of charity? She thought back to the rumors she had heard about Liam's philanthropic side, despite his reputation as a deadly and ruthless businessman.Isla sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment. She had been hoping that there was more to it, that Liam had seen something in her that no one else did. But now, she realized that it was probably just an act of kindness. He had saved her from her toxic boss, and now he was trying to do something good for her.She shouldn't think more of it than it was, she told herself. It w
“So Isla, please don’t tell me that you got scared of Liam Lockwood’s beauty,” Miranda teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief as Isla rejoined the group. The atmosphere was still buzzing with laughter and chatter, but Isla felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness wash over her.“Scared? No way!” Isla replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I just needed a moment to breathe, that’s all.”Taylor, perched on the edge of her seat with her thick arched brows raised, chimed in, “Come on, just accept it. We all have seen girls drooling over him. And this one here,” she pointed at a girl next to her, who was nursing a drink with a look of disappointment etched on her face, “was looking forward to sleeping with him tonight, but he ignored her and went over there.”Isla followed Taylor’s gaze to where Liam was mingling with a few men, his laughter ringing out like music. He looked effortlessly charming, his presence commanding the attention of everyone a
As Liam laughed, clearly impressed by her rejection, Isla felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within her. Alpha Liam Lockwood was just to lucky- He lived an easy life, blessed with good looks, power, and influence - so he had zero rejections from the opposite gender. But for Isla, the reality was starkly different. She had faced rejection from none other than her destined beta mate, the one who was supposed to cherish her.If only Liam knew her past—the girl she had been before stepping into the modeling industry. The awkward teenager who had struggled with her self-image, who had been overlooked and dismissed and lost her wolf in a stupid battle. From the lowest low, she had fought tooth and nail to transform herself, to become someone worthy of attention, by enhancing her physical appearance - yet here she was, still grappling with feelings of inadequacy.Shaking off the thoughts, Isla returned to Miranda and Taylor, who were animatedly discussing the latest trends in the ind
As their lips parted, Isla felt dizzy, her head spinning from the intensity of the kiss. She pressed her forehead against Liam's, the warmth of his skin a comforting balm against her racing thoughts. She was grateful for her tall 6 '0 frame - as it helped her to easily rest her forehead against the 6' 3 feet tall guy like Liam Lockwood, without having to stand on her tiptoes or strain her neck much. "Thank you," she breathed against his lips, her voice barely audible. "Thank you for everything you have done for me, Mr. Lockwood. But please, don't do any other favors for me."Liam's eyes, those striking blue orbs that had captivated her from the start, looked at her with hurt and disbelief. Isla felt a pang of guilt, but she knew she had to set boundaries - before she got in much greater trouble. She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself. "Goodnight," she said, her voice firm but barely above a whisper.With that, she pulled back and turned to her car, leaving Liam standing alone
The drive to the hotel was short, though it felt longer with her family's incessant commentary on every landmark they passed. Clara, in particular, seemed determined to demonstrate her worldliness by sharing "facts" about Paris that Isla suspected were either completely fabricated or gleaned from a tourist pamphlet.Le Grand Hôtel lived up to its name, its imposing façade and ornate Belle Époque architecture a testament to old-world luxury. They were escorted through the magnificent lobby with its crystal chandeliers and marble columns to the restaurant, where a table overlooking the Palais Garnier awaited them.A sommelier appeared almost immediately to present the wine list to Liam, who selected a vintage that made the man's eyebrows rise in respect. Menus were distributed, bound in leather and embossed with gold."Everything looks incredible," Clara murmured, scanning the offerings with furrowed brows. "How does one choose?""Take your time," Liam suggested, closing his own menu
Isla maintained a carefully neutral expression as the shopping spree continued. Her family moved from boutique to boutique along Avenue Montaigne like conquering heroes, leaving a trail of empty champagne flutes and enthusiastic salespeople in their wake. She had positioned herself slightly apart from them, standing beside Liam as a silent observer to the spectacle."Do you think this scarf complements this purse?" her mother called out, holding up a silk Hermès scarf against a Chanel handbag.Before Isla could respond—not that her opinion had ever mattered—Clara stepped in. "The colors clash, Mother. Try the blue one instead." Her sister's tone carried the same authoritative certainty that had dominated Isla's childhood, the same assumption that her judgment was inherently superior.Isla bit the inside of her cheek and said nothing. What was there to say? That this entire excursion felt like a bizarre fever dream? That watching her family eagerly accumulate luxury goods they had prev
The flight to Paris passed in much the same manner—her family consuming expensive food and drinks, making false statements about places they'd never been, and peppering Liam with questions about his business and personal wealth. Isla retreated further into silence, responding only when directly addressed, her discomfort growing with each passing hour.By the time they landed at Le Bourget Airport, Isla felt emotionally drained. A sleek black limousine awaited them on the tarmac, another display of Lockwood luxury that her family exclaimed over with unrestrained enthusiasm."We'll be going directly to Avenue Montaigne," Liam informed them as they settled into the vehicle. "It's home to some of the world's most exclusive boutiques.""Oh, I've read about it in magazines," her mother gushed. "Dior, Chanel, Louis Vuitton—all the finest brands!""Indeed," Liam agreed. "And today, you're welcome to explore them all."The drive through Paris was a blur of elegant architecture and tree-lined
The sleek private jet gleamed in the morning sunlight as Isla reluctantly made her way up the stairs. Behind her, her family's excited chatter grated on her nerves like sandpaper. They had barely contained their elation since Liam's unexpected invitation, and now, faced with the reality of the Lockwood family's private aircraft, they made no attempt to hide their awe."This is absolutely magnificent," her mother exclaimed, running her manicured fingers along the polished wooden paneling inside the cabin. "I am flying private to Paris for lunch! Who would have thought?"Isla winced at her mother's theatrical tone. The woman who had once told her that dreams were for people who couldn't face reality was now behaving like a child in a candy store.Her father wasted no time claiming one of the plush leather seats, immediately testing its reclining function and the various buttons on the armrest. "Now this is how travel should be," he declared, as if he'd been flying private jets his entir
"Isla!" Her mother's voice cut through her thoughts, high and delighted in a way Isla had never heard directed at her before. "Darling, there you are!"All conversation at the table ceased as every head turned toward the doorway. Isla felt Liam's hand press reassuringly against her lower back, grounding her as seven pairs of eyes fixed on them."Good morning," Liam's deep voice filled the room, commanding attention without effort—the natural authority of an Alpha. "I trust everyone slept well?""Exceptionally," her father answered, rising from his seat with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Your hospitality is unmatched, Alpha Lockwood."Alpha Lockwood. Not Liam. The formality wasn't lost on Isla, nor was the respect—bordering on obsequiousness—in her father's tone. This was the same man who had once dismissed her dreams of finding her fated mate as "unrealistic given her limitations as a wolf-less.""Please, join us," her mother urged, gesturing to the two empty seats at the
The Lockwood jet touched down on the private airstrip just as dawn was breaking over the horizon. Isla stirred from her dreamless sleep, her body feeling more rested than it had in weeks. Without her wolf constantly prowling beneath her skin, sleep came easier now—deeper and more peaceful. She blinked away the remnants of slumber and gazed out the window as the mansion came into view, its grand silhouette outlined against the pale morning sky."Sleep well?" Liam's voice was a warm rumble beside her.Isla turned to find him looking refreshed despite not having slept at all during their trip back from Montreal. Being a werewolf—a powerful Alpha at that—meant Liam could go days without proper rest if needed. His supernatural stamina was yet another reminder of the wolf she no longer possessed."Better than I have in a long time," she admitted, stretching her arms above her head. "I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until we were halfway back."Liam's fingers traced the curve of her
The take-off was smooth, the powerful engines pushing them back into their seats as the jet climbed rapidly into the night sky. Below them, New York City spread out like a constellation of earthbound stars, a mirror to the actual stars above them."It's beautiful," Isla whispered, pressing her palm against the cool window.Liam leaned over, his breath warm against her ear. "Not as beautiful as you."She turned to him, ready to playfully accuse him of being cheesy, but the sincerity in his ocean eyes stopped her. There was something profound in his gaze, something that transcended romantic platitudes."When I saw you wake up like that," he said quietly, "terrified, haunted... it broke something in me. I would fly you to the moon for hot chocolate if it would chase away that look in your eyes."Isla's heart swelled, emotion clogging her throat. She reached out, tracing the strong line of his jaw with her fingertips. "My fierce, protective wolf," she murmured."Always," he promised.The
The silence between them faded now, less.Isla's breathing had steadied, though her mind still raced with the implications of what she had seen about Selena. It was just a dream. Pull yourself together!She looked up at Liam, her eyes searching his. "You said you'd help me forget," she whispered. "How are you planning to do that?"A slow smile spread across Liam's face, the kind that always made her heart skip a beat. It was mischievous, tender, and utterly disarming all at once."Well," he said, reaching for his phone on the nightstand, "first things first." He pressed a button, and the device lit up, illuminating his face in a soft blue glow. He scrolled through his contacts and pressed call.Isla watched, puzzled, as he waited for someone to answer. At this hour? Who could he possibly be calling?"Marcus," Liam's voice was authoritative yet casual. "I need hot chocolate sent up to the master suite. The good kind, with the whipped cream and those little marshmallows Isla likes."
The bedroom was lit up in night lamps, soft and silver.. Isla lay nestled against Liam, her body curved perfectly into the protective arc of his embrace. Their breathing synchronized. Her slumber began softly, peacefully. The warmth of Liam's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint scent of cedar and pine that always surrounded him—these were her anchors, her safety.And then the dream began.At first, it was pure joy. Isla found herself running—no, bounding—through a moonlit forest. But this was different. This was her wolf form. Selena. Her long-lost wolf that she thought had died years ago.Golden blonde fur gleamed under the moonlight, each muscle moving with a fluid grace she had forgotten was possible. The ground beneath her paws felt alive, vibrating with ancient energy. Moss-covered earth, fallen pine needles, the soft give of forest floor—sensations she had been denied for so long rushed back to her.Freedom. Pure, unbridled freedom.Her wolf form was magn