Robe Of Enshroudment Novels & Stories

Certain dominant alphas truly cannot distinguish a diamond from a common river stone. The grand assembly mandated formal pack attire, but my private inventory contained zero pieces of ceremonial armor or designer cloaks. I had spent three winters revolving entirely around Draven’s hunting schedule, and with our marriage hidden from the border clans, there had never been a tactical reason—or a public forum—to display my rank. The single formal tunic I possessed was a winter-solstice gift from Draven’s grandmother last season: a deep emerald-satin ceremonial robe stitched with silver thread. When the robe was delivered to our den, the Alpha-Prime had received a matching tactical tunic—his iron

I admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Consider yourself in good company, then," Robbie said, throwing a protective arm around my shoulders. "I'll beat up everyone who even tries to stop us." I leaned into him for a moment. I knew he would. I pulled out the two necklaces I'd prepared—small, dull-looking things that hummed faintly with cloaking magic—and handed one to Robbie. "These will mask our scent," I said quietly. He turned his over in his hand like it was some strange artifact. "Whoa. You really smell like a rogue now."

Within seconds, they were nowhere to be seen. After that, Oskar waved his hand in the air and a purple and gold color robe appeared in his hand. It had the shape of clouds embroidered on the front of the robe. The robe also glimmered by itself as if it was an armor that nothing could penetrate. Oskar looked at Severin with a big smile. "Mister Severin, this is the magical robe a core disciple of the sect is given. It is a low-rank spiritual treasure. It was made out of the silk from the jade silkworm of Southsky. It would remain dry when in contact with water and fire could not burn it. There is a seal drawn onto it as well. If you are ever in danger, you can activate the seal to take up the

The funeral procession for Alpha Gareth began as the pack’s bell rang three times. On the large plaza, amidst the carvings of ancient stones and the offering altar, a dark wooden coffin adorned with the pack’s emblem was placed on the stone stage. Inside, Alpha Gareth’s body lay stiffly wrapped in his ceremonial uniform. His hands were crossed over his chest, clutching the Blood Moon Robe—the sacred object Alpha Gareth had worn during his ascension as Alpha. An object symbolizing honor, loyalty, and courage. The pack elder stepped forward to the altar, his long jacket rustling in the wind. He raised his hand slowly, and the voices of all pack members—three hundred and twenty-five in total—im

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.

“Now for the ceremonial robes. These will mark you, Luna. Wear them with strength and purpose.” I followed her silently, feeling both weightless and heavy at once, a strange fire coiling in my chest. My hands were clammy, but I didn’t dare pull them away; I trusted them, though I still wasn’t sure I trusted myself. They dressed me in the Velkorin robes… soft, flowing fabric of deep crimson trimmed with gold. The material brushed my skin, clinging in some places, falling loose in others, and it carried an intoxicating scent of incense and iron. Every fold, every stitch, seemed designed to honor the power.

Chapter 74: What the Bond Deserves (Nayla’s POV) The gown was soft—white, floor-length, lined with silver thread that shimmered when I moved. I didn’t know what I expected for a Council verification ritual, but apparently it was ceremonial enough to warrant dressing like a sacrificial offering. The cloth was enchanted to amplify magical resonance, and it pulsed faintly against my skin like it could feel my pulse. My fingers hovered over my collarbone—the place where the mark would go.

She walked to me without a word and held them out: a silver robe, a strange necklace with an eye-shaped gem at its center, and a white gown made of soft translucent fabric. “Change into this,” she said simply. I didn’t move. She stood, hand outstretched, waiting for me to receive it but I still did not budge. My eyes dropped to the necklace. It glittered faintly in her palm. “What is this for?” I asked. Nadia’s gaze didn’t waver. “To keep your soul secured while we try to pull your wolf spirit back. The gown is ceremonial. The robe will shield you. The necklace will protect both.”

Several placed ceremonial moonstone markers in a circle, others prepared the sacred silver-infused flame that would transform Aria's possessions into essence for her journey. Sarah frowned as she noticed a large box being carried by one of Alexander's guards. Inside were neatly folded men's formal pack robes—elaborate garments with the Black Wood Pack insignia embroidered in gold thread. "Whose robes are those?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice. Alexander's golden eyes remained fixed on the silver urn as he answered. "Mine." "Yours?" Sarah's beta wolf bristled with surprise. "But the Silver Offering is for Aria's possessions."

Could I bear the thought of being the one who let them down? Lost in my internal debate, I barely noticed as the palace maids dressed me. They had chosen an elegant robe for me, one that was fit for a royal occasion. It was made of the finest silk, a shimmering azure that seemed to capture the essence of the deep ocean. Intricate embroidery adorned the edges, forming delicate patterns of sea creatures and exotic flora. The robe flowed gracefully, its hem brushing the marble floor of the closet.