carried across 95

95 Black Dress 

Sera 

“What is the problem here?” Fenris’s voice cut through the hall like a physical blade. 

Everyone stopped arguing. Torin immediately dropped his smug smile and bowed his head slightly. My mother lowered the massive white dress, her face flushing red when she saw me walking in right beside the Alpha. 

“Alpha Volkov,” Torin stepped forward smoothly. He gestured to the chests. “King Aldric sends his deepest regards. The caravan arrived early to deliver the royal dowry. Gold, fine southern wine, and the traditional wedding garments for the Princess. A dowry fit to compensate for the… inconveniences of this arrangement.” 

I ignored Torin completely. I looked at the old woman holding the wooden box. 

“Show it to me,” I said. 

The old woman looked at Fenris. Fenris gave her a single nod. She stepped forward and placed the large wooden box on the nearest table. She popped the iron latches and opened the lid. 

I walked over and looked inside. 

It wasn’t leather. It wasn’t the standard grey and black wool the pack wore every day. 

It was the most breathtaking piece of clothing I had ever seen in my life. 

It was a dress, but the fabric was completely foreign to me. It was a dark, midnight shade-almost black, but it caught the firelight with deep, blood-red undertones. It looked liquid. I reached out and brushed my fingers over the material. It was incredibly soft, lighter than silk, but it possessed a strange, heavy weight that told me it would drape perfectly over every single curve of a woman’s body. 

“It is woven from the high-mountain spiders and dire-wool,” the old woman explained, watching my face.” It takes a year to make. We weave a new one for every Luna who takes the seat.” 

I picked it up by the shoulders and let it unfold. 

Irina scoffed loudly behind me. “Look at it, Seraphina. It is completely indecent.” 

I ignored her and examined the cut. My mother wasn’t entirely wrong about the indecency, but she completely missed the point. 

The dress was a weapon. 

It had long, tight sleeves that flared slightly at the wrists, but the neckline plunged deeply in a sharp V, designed to expose the collarbones and the upper swell of the breasts. The sides of the dress were completely open from the ribcage down to the hips, held together only by three thin, delicate silver 

chains. 

1/3 

951 

A TROKS 

+25 Bonus 

I turned the dress around. 

The back was entirely nonexistent. It dipped in a severe scoop that ended right at the absolute base of the spine, leaving the entire back bare. The skirt was long, meant to sweep the stone floor, but it featured two massive slits on the front of the thighs that went all the way up to the hip bones. 

“The Luna does not wear heavy armor to her wedding,” the old woman said. She stepped closer to me, lowering her rough voice so only I and Fenris could hear. “She wears this. Do you understand the cut, 

child?” 

I looked at the open sides. I looked at the bare back. I looked at the massive slits in the skirt. 

I swallowed hard. “I think so.” 

“It is not for fashion,” the old woman stated bluntly. “It is for the Blood Vows. The Alpha must be able to touch your bare skin when you swear. He must be able to smell your heat. And when the ceremony is over, he claims you. The dress is designed so he does not have to take it off you to take you. It makes you entirely available to him.” 

My breath hitched violently in my throat. 

The dress wasn’t just clothing. It was a direct, physical invitation. It was designed so Fenris could push the skirt aside and fuck me the exact second the vows were completed, without fumbling with heavy laces or ripping silk. 

I slowly turned my head and looked at Fenris. 

He was already staring at the dress. His pale grey eyes were completely fixed on the fabric in my hands. I watched his gaze drop from the deep plunge of the neckline down to the high slits of the skirt. I could physically see his mind mapping the dark fabric onto my bare body. 

The muscle in his jaw ticked. He looked up from the dress and locked eyes with me. The raw, unfiltered hunger in his stare made my knees weak all over again. 

“It is barbaric,” Irina snapped, breaking the heavy silence. She stepped forward, holding out the stiff, heavy white Valdris gown. “Sera, you are a Valdris Princess. You will wear white. You will project southern civility to these people. You will not stand in front of a crowd wearing something that makes you look like a cheap whore.” 

I slowly lowered the dark Luna dress back into the wooden box. 

I turned around to face my mother. 

**