JC POV
I couldn't help but smile on the way back home. Everything was falling into place. I had Haylie exactly where I wanted her.
If only I could get Liam out of the picture. To be honest, she had grown on me, and I was starting to like her more than I intended. The fear of my brothers wanting her dead only made me more determined to hide her, to keep her safe from them—and away from Liam.
As I stepped into the house, the familiar creak of the wooden floor greeted me. My brothers were already there, lounging on the couch with a beer their hands.
Stephan dark eyes flicked toward me briefly before returning to the TV, disinterest written all over his face.
I scanned the room, looking for Melody. She was the only one I could talk to about Haylie, the only one who might understand.
I made my way down the dim hallway, each step on the aged wood echoing faintly until I reached her room.
The scent of her magic hung heavy in the air, a mix of herbs and something darker.
Her door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open to find her sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a chaotic spread of spell books.
A smirk tugged at my lips. Typical Melody. Always buried in her mother's black magic books, obsessing over the arcane.
She looked up, her face lighting up when she saw me. "JC! I'm glad you're here," she said, her grin widening.
I leaned against the doorway for a moment before stepping in and taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "Let me guess—you found something in Mom's books?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
Her smile grew even brighter, and she closed the book she was holding, setting it aside. "Better. I found something I need your help with." She got up and joined me on the bed, her excitement practically radiating off her.
I frowned, folding my arms across my chest. "Why do you need my help?" I asked, suspicion creeping into my tone.
She placed a hand on my leg, her expression serious now. "Because this spell will let me become Haylie," she said, her voice low and deliberate. "And I need you to take Haylie away from here."
Her words hit me like a slap, and I shot up from the bed, staring at her in disbelief. "Are you insane?" I snapped, my voice rising. "You're mad if you think I'm going to let you turn yourself into Haylie!"
Melody remained seated, calm in the face of my outburst. Her dark eyes held a glint of determination, but I was too furious to notice. "Do you even hear yourself?" I continued, pacing the room. "This is beyond reckless!"
My eyes locked with Melody's intense, dark brown gaze as she spoke, her voice steady and determined. "This is for the best," she said, her words cutting through the air.
I rolled my eyes and turned toward the window, frustration bubbling inside me. The evening light filtered through the glass, but it did little to soothe the storm in my mind.
"JC," Melody called, her tone sharpening. "What do you think will happen to Haylie if one of our brothers catches her? How do you think she could defend herself against them without magic or any kind of supernatural ability?"
Her words struck a nerve, and I found my thoughts drifting back to Haylie—her smile, her innocence.
That light in her eyes was something so pure, so fragile. It would destroy me if my brothers hurt her... or worse.
I clenched my jaw, my hands balling into fists as I fought against the weight of my emotions. I didn't understand why I felt this way, but the thought of losing her—especially after just meeting her—was unbearable.
Turning back to Melody, I met her piercing gaze. "As long as this doesn't hurt Haylie," I said finally, the heaviness in my chest making my voice quieter than I intended.
Melody's eyes widened, a flicker of shock crossing her face.
Her lips parted slightly as she studied me. "You've fallen for her, haven't you?" she asked softly, her voice carrying both curiosity and something deeper.
I swallowed hard, unable to find the words to respond. For the first time, an unfamiliar feeling swelled within me—a deep, unshakable need to protect Haylie, to keep her safe from harm.
I looked at Melody one last time, then abruptly stormed out of her room. I couldn't stay there. I needed to be alone, to wrestle with whatever it was that had taken hold of me.
As I walked down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps echoing against the wooden floor, I felt a strange mix of frustration and longing. I had to figure this out—before it was too late.
Haylie POV
Liam halted the bike in the driveway, the engine purring softly before falling silent. My body still buzzed from the adrenaline of the ride, the vibrations lingering under my skin.
I climbed off the bike, pulling the helmet off and feeling my heart racing in my chest.
My eyes landed on Liam as he removed his helmet, and it was like something out of a movie—the bad boy unveiling himself in slow motion. I couldn't stop the blush creeping up my cheeks as I took in his tousled dark hair and the way his lips glistened when he licked them.
Those lips, I thought, taste like heaven. I couldn't wait to feel them against mine again.
The black leather jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, and the white V-neck underneath hinted at the athletic frame hidden beneath. He was effortlessly magnetic, and my stomach churned with anticipation.
"Hayls," his voice broke through my thoughts.
I blinked, startled, meeting his gaze with wide, emerald eyes. "Yes?" I stammered, trying to appear composed.
He smiled knowingly, tilting his head slightly. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"
My cheeks burned as if caught red-handed. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling more foolish by the second.
Liam smirked, and before I could react, he reached for my hand. His touch sent warmth rushing through me, his fingers firm yet gentle. My breath hitched as I tried to steady myself, every nerve alive under his touch.
"Come on," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Let's get inside."
He tugged me toward the house, and I followed, barely able to process the magnetic pull he had on me.
I wasn't sure why I was so overwhelmed, why every inch of him seemed to light me on fire, but I couldn't deny it. Liam had a way of making the world blur, leaving only the two of us.
We stepped into Liam's house, and I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my lips. The air was filled with the fresh, calming scent of lavender, and the view before me was breathtaking.
The floor was made of gleaming white marble tiles, and a magnificent crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, casting soft, sparkling light throughout the space.
"Is this your house?" I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief as I turned to look at him.
Liam was by the door, casually placing his school bag on a small table and shrugging off his leather jacket. He smirked. "This is only the beginning," he said. "Let me show you my room. You can put your bag there."
My heart jumped wildly in my chest. The house was enormous and spotless—so clean that I could see my reflection in the polished floor.
Liam reached for my hand again, and the warmth of his touch sent a familiar flutter through me. I followed him, marveling at the opulence around me.
As we walked through the house, I couldn't help but admire the exquisite details: the Roman statues strategically placed along the halls, the massive crystal windows framed with pristine white drapes, and the art—beautiful, expensive-looking paintings hung along the walls, each one more captivating than the last.
The furniture was elegant, each piece a testament to wealth and taste. Liam's family had to be incredibly rich.
We stopped in front of a large, dark oak door. Liam pushed it open effortlessly and gestured for me to step inside.
The room took my breath away. It was enormous, masculine, and immaculate. My cheeks burned as I thought about my small, humble room at home. His room looked like something out of a luxury catalog, except with a personal, lived-in charm.
A fireplace made of gray stone was built into the wall, giving the space a cozy feel. A plush sofa sat near the fireplace, alongside a sleek desk with a computer setup.
Shelves displayed countless trophies—evidence of his success, likely in football, based on what I'd seen before. My eyes wandered to the guitar resting against the wall, sparking my curiosity. I had no idea Liam played.
But then my gaze fell on the bed—a king-sized masterpiece covered in a black duvet with contrasting silver and white pillows. There were so many pillows!
"Hayls, are you hungry?" Liam's voice snapped me out of my reverie.
I turned to him, startled. "Sure," I replied quickly. "I could eat."
Liam smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing a number. "I'll order us some pizza. What kind do you want?"
I perked up. "Three cheese and the one with salmon, please," I said, placing my bag by the side of his bed.
He nodded, already placing the order, and I found myself wandering toward the shelves.
My curiosity got the better of me as I examined the trophies. They confirmed what I had guessed—Liam had been playing football for most of his life.
A photo on his desk caught my eye. Picking it up, I saw a family picture: Liam's father stood tall and proud, his arm around a woman with features similar to Liam's—his mother, I presumed. Next to her was a younger girl who looked strikingly different, probably his adopted sister, Claire.
They all looked so happy.
My chest tightened with a bittersweet ache. A pang of longing surged through me.
I wished I had something like that—a family, a place where I belonged. Gently, I placed the photo back on the desk, brushing off the sadness before it could overwhelm me.
My thoughts were interrupted by Liam's voice behind me. "Okay, the pizza's ordered. They said it'll be here in 30 minutes tops."
I turned around to face him. He stood there casually, his presence commanding the room without trying.
My gaze lingered on him for a moment before drifting back to the space around us. Liam had everything—a beautiful house, a loving family, a life filled with comfort and stability.
He didn't even realize how lucky he was.
I would give anything to have my parents back, to have a family that felt whole. Instead, all I had were my aunts, and they weren't even related to me by blood.
The thought stung, and a faint prickle of tears burned in my eyes as I glanced around his room. It was spotless and perfectly organized, a reflection of the life he led.
My own room couldn't have been more different—furnished with an old bed that once belonged to my mother, the worn-out blankets that felt like they'd been around for a century, and nothing remotely fancy.
"Haylie, are you okay?" Liam's voice pierced through my swirling thoughts.
Startled, I looked at him, quickly swiping at the tear threatening to escape down my cheek. "Yeah, I'm okay," I said, though my voice wavered. Inside, though, I felt raw, exposed, and maybe even a little jealous.
But it wasn't the wealth I envied—it was the love, the family.
I didn't want chandeliers or marble floors. I just wanted my mom and dad back. I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere.
Liam stepped closer, his movements slow and careful, as though he didn't want to startle me. I could feel his gaze on me, steady and probing. For the first time, I couldn't meet his eyes.
Instead, I looked down, ashamed of the emotions bubbling to the surface. It felt foolish to let myself get so worked up over something I could never change.
I thought of Aunt Camelia, Aunt Amora, and Uncle Jacob. They were good people who cared for me, but they could never fill the void my parents had left behind.
My train of thought broke when I felt Liam's hand wrap around mine. His grip was warm, grounding me in the moment. His voice came next, low and gentle, carrying a tenderness I hadn't expected.
"Haylie," he said softly, "I can tell something's bothering you."
My heart skipped a beat, and my lips parted slightly as I looked up at him. There was a sadness in me that I couldn't hide, no matter how much I tried. The words slipped out before I could stop them.
"I wish I could be as lucky as you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "You have a beautiful family... and I have nothing."
The weight of those words broke something inside me, and I felt the tears spill over, warm and unrelenting.
Liam stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached out and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks.
His touch was careful, almost reverent.
"Haylie," he said, his voice low and earnest, "this—what I have here—it's nothing."
I frowned, my heart tightening at his words. "But you have a family," I replied, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. "Nothing in the world could ever buy that."
I paused, the ache in my chest growing. "I would give anything to have my mom and dad back. To feel like a child again, to be loved by them."
Liam's gaze didn't waver, and his hand moved to cup the side of my face. His touch was warm, steady, and comforting in a way I hadn't expected. My heart swelled, and for a brief moment, the sadness ebbed away, replaced by the soothing presence of him.
"Haylie," he murmured, his thumb brushing against my cheek, "you are my family. You, us—that's what matters to me. This house, my parents—it's nothing compared to what I feel for you."
His words wrapped around my heart like a protective shield, melting some of the pain inside me.
In that moment, I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and it felt like he was trying to piece together the broken parts of me, one gentle touch at a time.
Even if he hadn't said the words outright, I could feel his love radiating from him in that moment, like a wave of warmth washing over me.
It wrapped around me, soothing the ache in my chest and filling the emptiness I'd felt moments ago.
"What do you say we grab something to drink," Liam said, his lips curling into a soft smile, "and then I show you the room where we can watch movies all night long?"
His words were comforting, like a gentle nudge back toward happiness. I couldn't help but smile, the heaviness inside me starting to lift.
"That sounds like a plan," I said, my smile widening as I met his gaze.