Isabella’s POV

“Isabella.”

My name floated toward me like a breeze, brushing over my skin. Light. Familiar. 

I was so comfortable, I groaned in protest. 

“Come on, Sweetheart. Wake up,” the voice called laughingly.

My lashes fluttered open, blinking against the golden spill of sunlight. The sky above me was soft with wisps of white clouds drifting lazily through the bluest ...