Isla lay nestled against Liam, the warmth of his body enveloping her like a comforting cocoon. The aftermath of their passionate encounter lingered her senses, a heady mix of satisfaction and intimacy that made her feel utterly content. She was half asleep, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness, lulled by the rhythmic sound of Liam’s breathing.As she shifted slightly, feeling the softness of the sheets against her skin, she felt Liam stir beside her. His arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she smiled to herself, relishing the feeling of being so intimately connected to him. It was a blissful moment, one that felt like a dream come true.“Let’s get married and mated to the world,” Liam murmured, his voice low and husky, breaking the peaceful silence of the room.Isla’s eyes flew open, and she blinked in surprise, her heart racing at his words. “What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned to face him, propping herself up on one elbow to look in
Isla sat at her desk, a blank white sheet of paper in front of her, the pen poised in her hand. The title at the top read “My Wedding Guest List,” but the page remained mostly empty. She had written down the name of her friend Maria, but as she stared at the paper, she felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her. Who else could she invite? The thought of her wedding filled her with excitement, but her social circle was very little.She sighed, leaning back in her chair, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. It was hard to believe that she was about to marry Liam Lockwood, the strongest Alpha in New York City, yet here she was, struggling to come up with a guest list. The thought of her family loomed large in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that had followed her for so long.Just then, the door swung open, and Miranda stepped inside, her expression bright and cheerful. “Hey, Isla! How’s the guest list writing going?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with e
As Isla stood outside her childhood home, a wave of mixed emotions washed over her. The familiar sight of the house loomed before her, its once welcoming facade now feeling like a prison. The memories flooded back, each one a reminder of the struggles she had faced growing up as the youngest child in a family that had never quite understood her.She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. It was never easy for her with her family. From a young age, she had been ridiculed for even the smallest things. Her parents had always held her to a standard that felt impossibly high, and her sister, the golden child, had set the bar even higher. Isla had watched as her sister excelled in academics and showcased her werewolf strength, while she felt like she was constantly falling short.“Lazy,” her parents had called her, the word echoing in her mind like a haunting refrain. It was a label that had stuck with her, one that she had fought against for years. No matter how hard she
As Isla and Victor approached the kitchen, the bustling sounds of her family filled the air. The aroma of her mother’s cooking wafted through the room, but the warmth of the moment was quickly overshadowed by the tension that hung in the air. Just as they entered, her sister, Claire, was the first to spot them.“Isla!” Claire exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and skepticism. She stood with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. “What are you doing here?”Before Isla could respond, their mother turned from the stove, her eyes widening in concern. “Isla dear, are you okay? Where have you been? Why didn’t you even call us for the last three years?” Her mother’s voice was filled with a mixture of worry and reproach, and for a moment, Isla felt a flicker of hope. Maybe her mother had missed her, maybe she had misunderstood her all along.But that moment was fleeting. Claire stepped forward, her tone sharp. “Careful, Mom. We don’t know if she’s the real Isla or not. Imposters are
Isla felt a rush of adrenaline as she stood her ground, but the moment was shattered when Claire’s incredulous voice cut through the tension. “Shut up! Liam Lockwood and you?! I’d sooner believe that you’re a Victoria’s Secret supermodel than this!”The words hit Isla like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her. She had expected skepticism, but the outright disbelief in her sister’s tone stung more than she had anticipated. It was as if Claire was dismissing not just her relationship with Liam but everything Isla had worked so hard to achieve.“Claire, I—” Isla began, but her sister wasn’t finished.“Seriously, Isla? You think you can just waltz in here and tell us you’re marrying the most powerful Alpha in New York City? You’re a wolf-less girl! What does he even see in you?” Claire’s voice dripped with mockery, and Isla felt her cheeks flush with anger and humiliation.Before Isla could respond, their mother chimed in, her expression a mix of concern and skepticism. “Isla,
As Isla stepped into Liam’s room at the Lockwood mansion, she felt a wave of warmth wash over her. The space was filled with soft light, and the luxurious decor reflected Liam’s impeccable taste. But more than the opulence of the room, it was the presence of Liam that made her heart swell. He stood there, waiting for her, and as she approached, he opened his arms wide.Without hesitation, Isla stepped into his embrace, feeling the strength of his body envelop her. The world outside faded away, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, cocooned in their own little bubble of love and support.“How did it go with your parents?” Liam asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes.Isla took a deep breath, her heart still racing from the earlier confrontation. “Well, my nephew Victor is a sweetie,” she began, a smile breaking through her earlier tension. “But my mom and sister couldn’t even believe that I was marrying someone like you. They were so skeptical.”Liam’s brow furrowed
The stylist led Isla to a private dressing room within the spa, the atmosphere shifting from the bustling main area to a serene, intimate space. The walls were adorned with soft colors, and the lighting was dimmed to create a calming ambiance. Isla felt a sense of anticipation as the stylist closed the door behind them, ensuring their conversation would remain private.“Miss Luna,” the stylist began, her voice low and serious, “have you ever wondered why Mr. Liam Lockwood’s parents are never home?”Isla furrowed her brow, caught off guard by the question. “No, I haven’t,” she replied honestly. She had met Liam’s father, Maximilian, during her vacation on the island, but even then, he had promised not to reveal his whereabouts to Liam. Isla had kept that secret close to her heart, not wanting to burden Liam with worries about his family.The stylist took a deep breath, her expression grave. “Okay, the truth is… Liam’s mother, Angelina, is captive with one of the Lockwood pack’s rivals.
Isla nestled comfortably in Liam’s lap, the warmth of his body enveloping her like a soft blanket. They were in his room, a sanctuary filled with the scent of cedar and the faintest hint of cologne. The late afternoon sun streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow over everything. Liam’s fingers grazed her skin lightly, sending shivers of delight through her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, but a thought nagged at her.“Liam,” she began, her voice soft but curious, “why don’t you invite your parents to the wedding?”At her question, Liam froze, his fingers pausing mid-graze. The lightness in the room shifted, and Isla could feel the tension radiating from him. He took a deep breath, his expression turning serious. “They’re probably somewhere doing something they refuse to tell me,” he replied, his voice low. “It’s been five years since I’ve seen them.”Isla’s heart sank at the pain in his voice. “Oh,” she said softly, unsure of how to respond. She had hoped to
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