103 Chapter 103 – A Gentleman’s Resolve, A Starlet’s Wrath
Isabelle’s question hung in the air between us, laden with promise. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine. The thin white robe clung to her still–damp skin, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the curves beneath. Everything about her–her scent, her touch, the warmth of her body so close to mine- was intoxicating.
I wanted her. God, how I wanted her.
But something held me back.
With more willpower than I knew I possessed, I gently caught her wandering hand in
mine.
“Isabelle,” I said, my voice rough with restrained desire. “I can’t.”
Confusion flickered across her perfect features, followed by a flash of hurt that twisted my gut. “You don’t want me?”
“That’s not it at all,” I rushed to explain, squeezing her hand. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But not like this.”
She withdrew her hand slightly. “What do you mean?”
I took a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. “Today showed me exactly how weak I still am. That fight with Elder Wei…” I shook my head. “I couldn’t protect you. If Caspian hadn’t been there…”
“But he was,” she countered. “And you fought bravely-”
“And ineffectively,” I cut in. “Isabelle, you deserve someone who can stand beside you as an equal. Someone worthy of you.” I met her gaze directly. “I’m not that man. Not
yet.”
Her expression softened. “Liam-
“Let me finish,” I said gently, “I want to be with you more than anything. But when that happens, I want to be someone who can truly protect you. Someone who deserves to stand by your side.”
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A small smile curved her lips. “And who decides when you’re worthy? You?”
“Maybe, I admitted. “Or maybe when I can face someone like Elder Wel without getting my ass handed to me.” I tried to lighten the moment with a wry smile. “I’m just asking for time.”
Isabelle studied my face for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. Finally, she nodded. “I can respect that.” She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, lingering just long enough to drive me crazy. “But don’t make me wait too long.”
As she pulled back, I caught a glimpse of understanding in her eyes that made my chest tight. This incredible woman saw something in me worth waiting for.
“I won’t,” I promised. “And Isabelle? Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For understanding. For not giving up on me.”
She smiled, a genuine smile that lit up her entire face. “I believe in you, Liam Knight. Even when you don’t believe in yourself.”
After Isabelle retreated to her side of the bed, I waited until her breathing slowed and deepened with sleep before slipping out from under the covers. There was something I
needed to do.
I moved to the small desk by the window, opening my bag and removing several items: a small jade knife, a vial of quicksilver, a roll of special paper inscribed with ancient runes, and several other components necessary for crafting a protection talisman.
If I couldn’t be with Isabelle physically to protect her, I could at least give her something that would. The Form One Dharma Decree was far from the most powerful protective charm, but it was the best I could manage with my current skill level.
Hours ticked by as I meticulously crafted the talisman, carefully tracing each rune with the quicksilver–infused brush. My hands trembled slightly from exhaustion, but I forced myself to continue. Each symbol had to be perfect; one mistake could render the entire talisman useless or worse.
Dawn was breaking by the time I finished, the pale light filtering through the curtains. I held up the finished product–or nearly finished. It wasn’t perfect. The final activation
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would require more energy than I could currently channel, but it would still offer basic protection.
I slumped in the ch
utterly drained. Creating even this semi–complete talisman had pushed me to my limits. Another stark reminder of how far I still had to go.
“Liam?” Isabelle’s sleepy voice called from the bed. “Have you been up all night?”
I turned to see her propped up on one elbow, her hair beautifully tousled from sleep. “I had something important to finish.”
She rubbed her eyes and sat up. “What is that?”
I crossed to the bed and handed her the talisman. “It’s for you. A Form One Dharma Decree–a protection charm. It’s not fully activated yet, but it should still offer some defense if you’re in danger.”
Isabelle examined the talisman, running her fingers over the intricate runes. “You
made this? For me?”
I nodded, suddenly self–conscious. “It’s not much, but—”
She cut me off by throwing her arms around my neck. “It’s perfect,” she whispered against my ear. “Thank you.”
I returned her embrace, breathing in the scent of her hair. This was what I was fighting
for. This was why I needed to become stronger.
“Let’s go somewhere fun today,” Isabelle suggested over breakfast. “We’ve both been so
tense. We need a break.”
I looked up from my coffee. “What did you have in mind?”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “There’s an amusement park not far from here. I haven’t been to one since I was a child.”
The prospect of seeing Isabelle letting loose and having fun was too tempting to resist. “Sounds perfect.”
Two hours later, we were strolling through the entrance gates of Wonderland Park. Isabelle looked radiant in a simple sundress and sunglasses, her hair pulled back in a
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casual ponytail. If anyone recognized her as the famous Isabelle Ashworth, they gave no indication.
“Cotton candy first, e declared, pulling me toward a vendor. “It’s mandatory amusement park protocol.”
Haughed, allowing myself to be dragged along. “I didn’t realize there were official rules.”
“Oh, absolutely,” she said with mock seriousness. “Cotton candy, followed by at least one terrifying roller coaster, then games where I’ll crush you mercilessly.”
“Pretty confident in your carnival game skills, are you?”
She flashed me a competitive smirk. “You have no idea.”
The day passed in a blur of laughter, sugar, and adrenaline. Isabelle proved to be a thrill–seeker on the rides, throwing her hands up and screaming with genuine delight on each roller coaster. At the game booths, she wasn’t kidding about her skills–she demolished me at ring toss and basketball shooting.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her so carefree. Her usual composed demeanor had given way to childlike enthusiasm, her laugh coming easily and often. It was a side of her I’d rarely glimpsed, and I found myself falling for her even more deeply.
After a particularly intense water ride that left us both soaked and laughing, Isabelle pointed to the massive Ferris wheel that dominated the skyline.
“We have to ride that before we leave,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement. “They say the view from the top is incredible.”
“Lead the way,” I replied, unable to deny her anything when she looked at me like that.
We made our way to the line for the Ferris wheel, joining the queue behind a small crowd. As we waited, I noticed a commotion ahead of us. A group of people with cameras and clipboards seemed to be escorting someone.
“Who’s that?” I asked Isabelle.
She squinted, then shrugged. “No idea.”
As the crowd shifted, I caught a glimpse of a young woman at the center of the
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entourage. She was attractive in a manufactured way–perfect makeup, designer clothes, an air of practiced glamour.
“Oh, Isabelle said, recognition dawning. “I think that’s Lyra Howard. She’s a singer or actress or something.”
The entourage approached the Ferris wheel, bypassing the line entirely. A
harried–looking man in a suit–presumably her assistant–led the way, gesturing for people to make space.
“Make way, please! Miss Howard has a tight schedule!” he called out, his voice officious and demanding.
The crowd parted obediently, some people whispering excitedly and taking photos. Only when the assistant reached where Isabelle and I were standing did he encounter resistance. We hadn’t moved, simply because we hadn’t realized we were expected to.
The assistant–his name badge read “Castro“-stopped short, eyeing us with obvious irritation. “Excuse me,” he said coldly. “You’ll need to step aside.”
I was about to comply when Lyra Howard herself pushed forward, her face twisted in annoyance. She wore oversized sunglasses and a scowl that seemed permanently
etched onto her features.
“Castro, why are we stopping?” she demanded, then spotted us. “Oh my god, are these fans bothering us again? I told you I don’t do autographs at these events!”
Castro immediately adopted an apologetic expression. “I’m so sorry, Miss Howard. These people were just leaving.” He turned to us, his voice dropping to a hiss. “You heard Miss Howard. Stop being a nuisance and move along.”
I blinked, taken aback by the baseless accusation. “We weren’t asking for—”
“Oh please,” Lyra cut in, loud enough for nearby people to hear. “I’ve been dealing with attention–seekers like you all day. You think if you pretend to accidentally bump into me, you’ll get a selfie for your sad little social media? Pathetic.”
People around us were staring now, some lifting their phones to record the
confrontation. My face burned with embarrassment and indignation. We hadn’t done anything wrong.
I was about to explain when Isabelle stepped forward, removing her sunglasses. She
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looked Lyra Howard up and down, her expression one of pure disdain.
“You think too highly
yourself,” Isabelle said, her voice clear and cutting. “As a D–list
celebrity, I haven’t even heard of you.”
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