Crowley Outfit Novels & Stories

A hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned toward the entrance of the packhouse. The officiating elder stepped forward, raising his hands. “Everyone rise,” he announced loudly. My breath hitched. This was it. My enemy was about to walk down the aisle wearing my crown, entering my role, standing exactly where I once stood. The doors opened slowly. Gasps rose. Clara stepped out. She wore a white gown so large and decorated that it looked like a palace made of silk and gold. Jewels sparkled in her hair. A diamond necklace—the one I once saw in Edmund’s private vault—glowed against her skin.

Colt does what he can to calm me, but it’s no use. We all put on some nice clothes, Harlow even showered and fixed her hair. It’s pulled into a half ponytail with a braid, and she’s wearing a conservative navy blue dress with white trim and white shoes. All of us men wore suits, not fucking around. Sure I rarely wear a suit, and I had to teleport quickly back to my parents home to get one but it needed to be done.

The more you keep them, the more disappointment eats you alive. “My lady, what are you doing?” Clara asked again, struggling to keep her voice steady as she watched me fold the white gown from my father’s pack. When I finished dressing, I caught her wide-eyed stare. I had traded the gown for a black stone-studded bum short, a black crop top, and a fluffy jacket. A cap sat low on my head, sunglasses hiding my eyes. I even pulled out the black umbrella I’d tucked beneath the seat. Clara was stunned, but wisely swallowed whatever words pressed on her tongue.

With Holly’s background in proper and social clothing, they were able to pull off the suitable garbs for this one. Clara wore a forest green garb while Holly bested a charcoal grey one. They dressed in a long-sleeved shift under a tight-fitting square-necked bodice and two skirt layers—a matching silk veil wrapped around their face down to their chest to conceal their identity. Alexander and Maxwell clothed themselves with a hooded tunic under laced-up sleeveless jerkins and cream-colored breeches cross-gartered from ankle to knee. “Holly, why are we dressed like this?” Clara whispered through the thin fabric covering half of her face.

I thought to myself, what are you looking at, do you think everyone is as deaf as you! I said, "hehe, brother Elio is looking forward to it too, right?" "Not as much as you." What a prude. Clara was wearing a long golden brown dress today, with fine golden silk threads at the hem, forming a complex and magnificent pattern. It looked very expensive and shimmered in the sunlight. Elio and I were also obviously aristocrats who didn't fit in with the crowd, and coupled with the fact that Collins, Clara's guardian knight, kept following us around, we were extremely conspicuous in the crowd, with all sorts of eyes glued to us. The two of them seemed to be used to being the center of attention, but

To my father it’s not about fighting a losing battle, it’s about loyalty. His loyalty to Riley. “I picked your outfit for the fight,” Clara says. Uh….. “I wasn’t planning on dressing up,” I replied. She rolls her eyes. “Not that kind of outfit, Lily. I got you a pair black shorts that’s for workouts they won’t ride up. And a sports bra that’s made for girls that wrestle,” Clara said. “Whatever. I don’t care what I wear, I only care that Archer keeps his word,” I breathed Clara raises a brow.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I kept scanning my wardrobe thoroughly. "Good morning, Rex!" Clark greeted me as he walked into my room. "Don't tell me you are looking for what to wear today again?" He scoffed as he looked at me. From the way he was staring at me right now, I could tell what he had in mind already. "Not that!!" I quickly said in defense as I took out a blue baggy jeans and a black Louis Vuitton's hoodie. "We both know you were looking for some sophisticated, mafia like outfit." He scoffed, chuckling softly.

No one spoke about it, and Hunter had also gone to incognito mode. Claire's heart thudded behind her ribcage. She twisted her lips as she swirled around, checking out the dress from different angles. The dress was a blend of black and brown, and it shimmered. It was a stunning gown with a strapless sweetheart neckline, revealing her toned shoulders and flawless skin. There was a silvery shimmery belt around her waist while several layers of fabric cascaded down the front, around her belly, adding more beauty to the dress.

My clothes hung loose as my body burned through what little fat a child could carry. I was dying by degrees when they found me. Three figures emerged from the shadows like smoke given form. Rogues—I could smell it on them, that wild untethered scent that pack wolves feared. "Well, well." The woman's voice carried a trace of dark amusement. "What do we have here?" I should run. Every pack instinct screamed at me to flee. But I could barely stand, let alone escape three full-grown wolves. "Just a lost pup," said one of the men. "Probably from Crescent Moon pack. Should we just leave her?"

A corner desk had new parchment along with magic quills, and shelves were lined high with ancient, blank tomes to be inscribed. My closet creaked as it swung open, showing the uniforms in my size: the silver-buttoned, black-coated uniforms, blouses, and cloaks in plain black trim. When I touched one of the cloaks, the lining of it came to life in red and gold threads, and the picture of the broken crown was for one moment before it disappeared.