Armored Vault 13 Jumpsuit Novels & Stories

Ava Reed moved like a shadow in the mist. She was clad in obsidian—an armoured tactical suit stitched with Kevlar and high-grade ballistic mesh, molded perfectly to her frame. It absorbed light, almost seemed to drink it. Under the hood of her tactical cloak, her face was shielded by a matte black mask. Her eyes, exposed and focused, burned like twin blades behind narrow visors. No jewelry. No sentiment. Just silence and precision. Around her moved a dozen hand-picked La Rosa enforcers, armed with suppressed rifles and hand signals. No one spoke unless she allowed it.

T whiz to decode the man I was mated to. After our conversation, I left to my room and took a long, hot shower. I threw on a navy blue cotton jumpsuit that ended just below my butt. The top hung by spaghetti straps with a deep V-neckline that showed off ample cleavage. Three buttons decorated down the bodice, stopping at a belt that I had tied in a bow at the front. It was an outfit I barely wore because it was too exhausting to wear but I felt like putting in the effort today.

The hologram disappeared. In ten minutes I came out of the bathroom with my full body armor. I walked into the main lobby dressed in a lightweight, carbon fiber uniform with green highlights around my body. On the left upper side of my uniform was the Zen Academy emblem with a white circle in the middle. It seemed comfortable and sturdy enough to keep me safe. “Whoa, looking good, sexy,” Adrian teased. “Adrian, stop,” I playfully hit her arm. She wore similar armor, but hers had red highlights

The latter cheerfully threw it over his shoulder. After opening a large metal cabinet of uniforms, Amanda pulled one that suited her - a black and pink jumpsuit - that screamed ‘drive expert.’ She disappeared into the changing room and appeared moments later clad in it with her hair tied into a high ponytail. “You done for the day?” Matteo asked as he stood in the same viewing area yesterday. Amanda nodded once. “Yeah, ” she said and raised her arms over her head for a stretching exercise.

With every swallow, my throat ached for the cool sensation of water to slick down the column. His eyes traveled to the glass of water beside me and back. A silent command to drink. I obeyed, propping myself up and fluffing my pillows. The wet reprieve of the water against my dry throat felt like the next best thing since shoe laces. Water may not have been my favorite drink of choice—pumpkin spice ice-coffees won that—but one only realized their gratitude for the existence of water when they needed it most. Placing the glass back, I finally took in Victor. He was dressed in a black button-down and black dress slacks. His hair was slicked back in a top knot. His beard was trimmed and framed h

I said categorically. Mariana looked at the outfit I was wearing and made a positive sign, indicating that this was the best option for this moment, and I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Indeed, the long, bareback jumpsuit, with only two long straps cut into an "X", but with a very discreet neckline in the front, was the best option and I mentally congratulated myself for having put it on my shopping list yesterday. "And you really shouldn't fear any of them because you have Murilo on your side, supporting you in everything.”

Valerie adjusted the sharp lapel of the charcoal grey double breasted suit. The fabric was heavy, flawless, and draped over her shoulders with the kind of structured elegance that only came from elite designers in the corporate central sectors. Dominic’s people had delivered the garment to her quarters at dawn, packaged in a sleek black garment bag with a simple note that read, Wear the armor. The fit is perfect, a low voice rumbled from the doorway. Valerie did not startle. She turned from the full length mirror, her heels clicking against the polished stone floor. I did not expect you to have access to luxury human fashion in an outlaw compound, Dominic.

Today was the day I was supposed to join the training. I pushed aside the soft, delicate dresses that Jay liked me to wear, and I reached for the boldest, most commanding attire that I had, a warrior set that was made especially for a Luna—it was sleek, it was imposing, and it was made for battle. The dark material, a combination of leather and light armor plating, was embroidered with intricate designs that featured gold and silver, all signs of power and dominance. The attire fit me to perfection, hugging my physique not to highlight its beauty but its power, which was something that Jay hated.

My belly churned with desire, my mouth dry with the longing to run my tongue along the dips in his muscles, down to trace the bulging vein that disappeared into his briefs. Damn it. Could he put on his clothes a little faster? I turned away, zipping up the back of my second skin, gathering the suits reminiscent of military armor with a perfect indention for the helmet. They were worn around the joints and reinforced with extra stitching. Practically molded to my body by now. A light shade of brown separates us from the black. Over the intercom, Benji announced, "We're as close as we're going to get. Ready when you are."

"And there's no seats. Just magnetic locking rails." "We aren't going down there for comfort, mercenary," Captain Reyes said, walking up the boarding ramp. She wasn't wearing her white-and-gold Paladin armor anymore. She was carrying an armful of sleek, matte-black, pressurized tactical suits she had raided from the Ark's deepest armories.