Allison Argent Costume Novels & Stories

Lisa blushed, tugging at her sleeve. Ivan Kuznetsov had entered moments before to speak to Alena Kuznetsov, the couture head. As he passed the mirror, his gaze lingered on Lisa before he exited. From the inner dressing room, Avery emerged, her fitted black velvet gown revealing one leg. The corseted bodice shaped her into a sharp hourglass, silver embroidery tracing the hem and neckline. A half mask added an air of danger. “I look weird, right?” she muttered. Lisa gasped. “Girl… you look dangerously hot.” Avery scoffed, hiding a small smile. The staff stared, stunned. “Whatever. Let’s just get this masquerade over with.”

It’s good to see them more relaxed. They aren’t even wearing their signature black tactical clothes. Aryelles looks like a supermodel on her day off in baggy tan sweatpants, a baby blue v-neck t-shirt, and baseball cap with her shiny black hair cascading out from underneath. Everyone in jeans, leggings, and even Martina in a maxi dress is a surprising change of pace. “The smell of gunpowder never gets old, does it?” Les stands next to me with a slight grin, looking around the waiting area.

It's light gray in color and also has silver. It was also backless and my stomach was visible because it had a hole. Fittef too much on my body and my curves are obvious. I didn’t want to wear it because it was too revealing. It was also cold, but because Alison was naughty and she told me to just put on my jacket, I couldn't do anything. "Shit perfect!" Alison whispered but could still be heard. She was wearing a green gown but it wasn't too big for her. Her top will be separate. It has a strap on the back and like me is backless as well.

The dress hugs her curves in all the right places, and the deep blue color brings out the lovely flecks of gold in her warm brown eyes. A red hue spreads on Allison's cheeks in response to my words, crawling up her ears. She looks up from the hands resting on her lap and turns her gaze on me. "You think so?" she asks. Really, the sort of questions she asks, as if the answers aren't obvious. "Of course I do," I reply. "You should dress like this more often, if it doesn't make you uncomfortable." She ducks her head shyly, biting her lower lip. Golden blonde hair falls in a shiny long curtain over her face, hiding it from view.

I take a deep breath to steady myself and to prevent the girls from knowing anything. My jaw dropped as Alison emerged from the changing room wearing a maroon trumpet-shaped dress with a sweetheart neckline and straps hanging loosely on her upper arm. “Damn girl!! You look so gorgeous,” I say mooning over Alison’s dress, “This is so perfect for the dance,” Ashley says scanning Alison’s outfit, “We just have to find the right jewelry and shoes to go with it.”

She air-kissed near my cheek and flitted away to greet someone else, her wedge heels clicking on the hardwood. I grabbed a small plate and started loading it up. The bacon-wrapped dates were calling my name, along with what looked like mini crab cakes with some kind of aioli. “Maren fucking Cole.” I turned around so fast I nearly dropped my plate. Allison stood there grinning, holding a Moscow Mule in a copper mug. She looked fantastic—same mischievous sparkle in her eyes, but her style had evolved. She wore high-waisted black jeans and a silk camisole, her hair cut into a sharp asymmetrical bob with honey-blonde highlights.

she asked. I shrugged. "What do you mean is that all? What else do you want me to say, Allison?" Her expression turned cold, and she turned to leave. I watched her go before shutting the door and returning to bed. With my body on the bed, my eyes strayed to the floor, where I spotted a small black bag. I picked it up and opened it, revealing a golden curly wig, bunny mask - a replica of Sweet Bunny's signature style. Alongside the blue micro dress with an exposed back, the kind Sweet Bunny normally wore.

With style, I waved my hands at this on lookers, feeling so proud of myself. But that moment was ruined when Brielle stepped out of the car in her filthy maid attire. Everyone gasped at the sight of Brielle, gossiping amongst themselves. "What is she wearing?" "That's so dirty!" " Why is the Alpha's Luna in such a messy dress?" They all complained, staring at us. I thought this was going to fill me with delight, but it back fired. They were all glaring at Argon with anger, wanting to know why their Alpha would give Brielle such a dress.

Thankfully, I don’t run into Argent as I make my way to the front door. It has been two days since I’ve spoken to him, and I’m so on edge that anything could set me off. That’s when I decided that I need to confront him. Wanting to look composed, I slip into a blue, string tie, jersey dress that drapes down to my thighs and has an open back, and a pair of jeweled wedges that make my legs look miles long. Leaving my hair down, I put on some lip gloss and my jasmine perfume.

a voice boomed over a megaphone. But through the smoke, I saw a familiar figure leading the charge. She wasn't wearing a uniform.. she was wearing a tactical vest over her red gala gown, looking like the deadliest prom queen in history. Allison. Behind her were human cops and werewolves alike. Victoria saw the tide turning. She looked at the dozens of guns pointed at her and then at Gerald who was frantically trying to find a way out. She grabbed Gerald by the shoulder, her eyes glowing so bright they turned the whole room purple.