The edges of New York City felt far away on this cold, grey evening—barely a whisper of warmth in the biting wind. Isabelle Lightwood’s sharp eyes caught the faint outline of a small figure huddled near a forgotten alley, shivering and fragile beneath a threadbare coat. Carefully, Isabelle approached, her footsteps silent but steady. “Hey, little one,” she said softly, voice like velvet. “You’re safe now.” She knelt slowly, careful not to startle her.“Do you know who I am?” Isabelle whispered, sliding a warm hand toward the child’s trembling fingers. “No,” Isabelle smiled gently. “I’m not. I’m here to help you.” “No,” Isabelle smiled gently. “I’m not. I’m here to help you.” Isabelle’s eyes softened with fierce protectiveness. “You’re so brave for telling me,” she said. “And you don’t have to be scared anymore. I’ll keep you safe.” Gently, Isabelle wrapped her arm around Daisy’s shoulders, guiding her from the cold alley toward her car. At Isabelle’s home, the warmth was immediate—a gentle glow, soft textures, and the scent of earth and sun. Clary Fray stood near the hearth, her wolfish silhouette calm but undeniably powerful. Isabelle stepped between them, soft but firm. “This is Clary,” Isabelle said gently. “She’s my mate, and she loves you already. You’re safe here.” “It’s okay to be scared,” Isabelle whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Daisy’s ear. “We’ll take it slow. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” Clary lowered her gaze, voice soft as a sigh. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to protect you.” Isabelle smiled, squeezing Daisy’s hand. “We’re a family now,” she said. “And we’ll help you find your confidence again, one gentle step at a time.”