Matching Robes Novels & Stories

He gestured and I quickly turned to the wind-down window. “You got to be kidding me!” The palace female Omegas had just rolled out a red carpet, graced with rose petals. At the end of it, two others held an elegant 'robe', which had embroideries at its front, so skillfully made. I knew that robe although this one's a lot sophisticated and made for royalty, I do know it. Everyone from this pack would identify this robe with just a glance. “That's a fucking wedding robe!” I lamented. This shit is real. I'm getting married.

I wondered who this person could be. My eyes trailed down, taking in his attire. He was dressed in a magnificent ensemble befitting royalty. He wore a regal robe, its fabric a deep shade of crimson that draped gracefully around his frame. The robe was adorned with intricate patterns of gold thread, adding an opulent touch to his attire. It seemed to shimmer with every movement, catching the light and commanding attention.

"All four Horsemen are in place and we are ready to begin." Heath shifted anxiously in his bruised and dented, metal folding chair. Cautiously he eyed the four men standing before the group of approximately thirty-five people. Their costumes were unusual. They felt almost religious to Heath. Each man wore a floor length gown inspired robe which resembled a judge's ensemble. The colors, Heath decided, were ceremonial. The first man wore a robe of Stark white. The second man's robe was blood red. The third robe was coal black. The fourth was pale green. Each robe had a large golden horse embroidered on the left breast panel. A golden roped hem had been hand stitched to perfection.

The robe would have been perfect—understated yet exquisite, exactly the sort of thing Alexander would appreciate. "Surely you could make an exception for the Beta's daughter?" Mother pressed. "I sincerely apologize," the manager replied firmly. "The client specifically requested it be held until collection." After trying several more options, I settled on a dazzling white ceremonial robe with protective runes. It wasn't subtle, but it would certainly draw attention. "White is traditionally worn by newly marked mates," the manager cautioned gently. "Perfect," I smiled, examining my reflection. "Let them think what they will."

I might take the robe, perhaps borrow it until I have time to send it back. Before I could move, I saw him dive underwater. The moment he disappeared under the surface, I turned straight to the rock. I didn't wait any longer. I grabbed the robe, discarded my shabby rags, and threw the robe across my naked body. As soon as it fell into my hands, I ran my fingers over it. It felt insanely soft. The crimson robe was as smooth as silk and as airy as cotton, and had little embroidered seams stitched over it. The cloth was slightly gleaming. What a nice robe, and it fitted me well. It was as though a gift from heaven.

Moonlight already bathing the stones in silver. We returned to the chambers to prepare. Servants had laid out ceremonial robes. Deep forest green for me. Midnight black trimmed with silver for Ronan. We dressed each other with careful hands. Fingers lingering on skin. The bond sang with every touch. Ronan tied the sash at my waist. His breath warm against my neck. "You look like mine. Finally." "I always was." I replied. Adjusting the clasp on his robe. "Even when we fought it."

The king stood up to his height and I followed to stand as both men walked towards us, carrying heavy royal robes which were black in colour, the edges trimmed with black and white fur. They were stunning and as mine was thrown over my shoulders, I thought I would collapse. I would have if I had worn the heels. The royal robe was so heavy, just bringing me down but I held up. My smile grew wider. I was a queen. I was a queen. I was a fucking queen!

Colors swirled within those luminous depths like galaxies being born: silver, gold, obsidian, and the faintest hint of crimson before finally settling in silver. His formal business suit dissolved like morning mist and in its place appeared robes that would have made bygone emperors weep with envy. Deep midnight blue formed the base, so dark it was almost black, but shot through with silver embroidery. The robe flowed around his tall frame as though gravity itself bent to his will. Silver clasps held the garment at his shoulders, each one carved with intricate designs. A high collar framed his face, adding to his imposing height and making him seem carved from marble by divine hands.

After saying that, she waved her hand, "Bring the robe I prepared." Before everyone's eyes, she draped the robe over Emma. The robe was light and warm, made of pale pink silk, embroidered single plum blossoms in gold thread, and black thread coloring cloud patterns. It was lined with white chinchilla fur, making it look very cozy. Emma gently touched it and found that it was old clothes inside, clearly indicating that Luna Sandra wanted to raise her profile in front of everyone, especially exchanging old dresses for the favor of someone. She smiled and said, "Thank you, Mother."

Mine was a Crimson velvet cloak that reached to the feet and trailed somewhat on the ground at the rear, with an open front lined and bordered with ermine. All six of the pack’s elders were present, dressed in royal blue, donned drop-sleeve robes with stars and moons patterns, closed fronts that slip over the head, and attached hoods. Large round concrete propane fire pots in rustic black flared with flames in all four corners. Two of these sat at the foot of the ritual circle, with my Beta and Gamma standing at each.