Claiming His Crescent Luna
I stripped out of my rumpled formal uniform, pulling the dark tactical shirt and structured pants over my frame before locking the heavy chest plates into place with a series of sharp, mechanical clicks.
When I turned around, my breath caught in my throat.
Elara had stepped out of her emerald gown, letting the rich fabric pool on the floor like water. She had pulled the dark tactical uniform over her slim frame, the tailored Kevlar plates emphasizing the dangerous, athletic contours of her body. Her vibrant red hair was pulled back into a high, fierce warrior braid, exposing the unblemished skin of her neck and the dark, permanent crescent brand glowing hot against her collarbone.
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