Isabelle Lightwood Costume Novels & Stories

This was their chosen sanctuary, a world away from the opulent ballrooms and society galas of his past life. Isabelle stood in a small room at the back of the chapel, her heart a drum against her ribs. She was wearing a simple, elegant ivory gown. It was not a designer creation that screamed of expense, but a beautifully tailored piece that had been found in a small boutique, its fabric flowing and soft. It felt like a part of her, not a costume. Her hair was pulled back in a loose, elegant bun, a single white rose tucked into the side. She held a small bouquet of wildflowers, their vibrant colors a testament to the new, untamed beauty she had found in her life.

Now, exactly one week later, the clock ticked past 6:15 p.m. on Saturday evening, and it was Robert Blackwood birthday. The mansion was alive with light and sound. The floors were shining and the chandeliers sparkled like fallen stars. In a decorated room near the east wing, Isla was standing with her frame adorned in an emerald gown as she gazed into a very tall mirror. Her hair was pinned at the back, her earrings long and delicate, and beside her was Damien himself.

On that evening, he had said certain things to her, then he had hurt her. Isabelle took her head in her hands. The pain was severe, but she had to find out what else she could remember. She started rocking back and forth feeling so vulnerable... Then she closed her eyes and saw herself, wearing a nice dress... the same one that was in her closet, at the ranch... At the party, she wore it and she matched it with some jewels that Marie had given her... very expensive...Yes… the jewels…

If not for the intense pain in Marcus’ chest where she’d stabbed him, he would be thoroughly enjoying this moment right now. Isabelle was quite lovely in her gown. The color looked exceptional on her, but then red fit the character of a she-devil perfectly. Although, it was her hair that had him mesmerized. Obviously, she needed a brush, but with her wild sandy waves flowing over her shoulders, she looked young and innocent. It was a good thing he knew better.

Xavier gave him a curt nod and strode back to the table to pick up his drink. A minute later, Hallec led the Weres back inside. Cole knew then he had mind-linked with Hallec to summon them back inside. Cole went to stand by the window and he saw Isabelle on the back porch, speaking with Opaline. She looked somewhat indignant and her arms were folded against her chest in obvious exasperation. Her hair was left loose and it fell all over her shoulders, framing her exotically beautiful face. He knew now that her hair was long enough to reach her bum. He envisaged it as he studied her beautiful face, animated with exasperation and her grey eyes flashing with life and vigour. She had changed and

By noon, Isabella Caldwell would disappear, replaced by Isabella Blackwood,wife of a man who had orchestrated her family's destruction. The irony wasn't lost on me. I turned away from the window, my gaze falling on the garment bag hanging from my closet door. Inside was the dress Maya and I had found at Bergdorf's,not white, not even ivory, but a deep midnight blue that looked almost black until the light caught it just right. Sleek, elegant, with a high neck and an open back that Maya had declared "just the right amount of defiant sensuality."

Isa let Luna Belle pulled her. ***** Isabelle POV I really feel bad and very troublesome. Luna Belle had one of her maids help me clean up. The maid even washed my hair and dried it, she also gave me a clean change of dress in soft peach color and made of silky gossamer. The maid brushed my hair "you must be in shock" she spoke. I looked at her in fear. She was still busy drying my hair and styling it. I shook my head hard "I...I didn't want that to happen" my voice trembled

“We need to be ready for anything.” She nodded. “Then let’s prepare.” PREPARATION & TEMPTATION The sun had long since set. The safehouse was silent, each team member busy with final preparations. But Isabella… She was alone in her bedroom, standing before a full-length mirror, adjusting the delicate straps of her gown. Deep crimson silk. A slit that ran dangerously high. A mask of black lace that concealed just enough. A dress made to seduce, distract, destroy. She turned slightly, assessing the way the fabric clung to her curves. Vargas wouldn’t see her coming.

She could not make out much but could see that her attackers were wearing cloaks, which covered their faces. At that point, Isabelle managed to let out a scream. She still thought of it as a loud thing, enough to summon someone to help her. But, in reality, it had been nothing more than a dull croak that even her attackers would have had trouble hearing if they had not been close enough to feel her terrified fast breathing on their covered faces.

I might learn something useful about her father, Allen White, from the encounter. Isabel stood waiting for me in front of the cinema. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. She was wearing a stunning red dress that tastefully revealed her perfect figure. Her big blue eyes and high cheekbones were accentuated with subtle makeup. Her golden hair was shimmering in the neon cinema lights. But I could never like her the way I liked Lilith.