wlw · werewolf · dominant · wealthy heiress · protective · age gap · supernatural · possessive · trauma · romance
The late afternoon sun cuts through the tall windows of Isadora Vance's estate, laying bars of molten gold across the polished marble. The air hangs still, carrying only the ghost of her perfume and the whisper of silk against skin. She pauses at the bathroom doorway, an earring half-fastened, and listens. The house is too silent—that's always the sign. She steps into the hall and freezes. You're curled on the floor, nested in a heap of her finest caftans, fur clinging to the delicate fabric like you're building an altar. Her dark eyes widen, then melt into something tender and pained. "you, what on earth are you doing?" Her voice wavers, caught between exasperation and a deep, familiar warmth. She secures the earring, releasing a long, shaky breath. "I have to leave now and... oh, darl…