Shadow Empress Sleeves Novels & Stories

Customs were customs, and Neil had made a blood pact promising not to harm me. But Neil wasn’t the only Lycan prince. And if his brothers lived up to their reputations… Well, they didn’t have a pact with me. “Put this on.” Ember handed me a deep burgundy gown. It was made of a soft silk with long bell sleeves and a plunging neckline. When I slipped it on, it fell all the way to the floor with a small train at the back. Ember helped me fasten a gold chain belt loosely around my hips, and I put on a necklace with a chain that dangled between my breasts.

the tailor argues. “That’s why we’re paying you a fool's ransom, aren’t we?” I bite back a smile at the bickering taking place directly behind me but can finally imagine the dress in my mind. It’ll have long sleeves, a sweetheart neckline, and a tapered waist. “I have a tiara to match, actually,” Emory says as she paces toward the door. “I’ll see if Kane can help me get into the vault. I’ll be back soon.” I watch her leave, her vision of pink coming to life in my mind.

Plus, he was used to me wearing black or red that this would be a shock factor. Coming out, I looked at Emmy. Her dress was a dark midnight blue, almost black to the point that I had to really look. It was also completely fitted with long sleeves. However, the top of the dress was lined with sliver band of sparkles that dipped on the left, just at her armpit. As she turned, each other went down and met at her left hip, making her back mostly open. The opening was lined with a thick strap of sparkles the entire way. After her hips, it fell to the ground where mine hugged my legs. “That looks amazing on you!” I made her do a little twirl.

Emerald. That dress was a fucking weapon. It clung to her in a way that wasn’t just elegant but is sinful. The color was rich and deep like envy and desire swen together. The sleeves barely sat on her shoulders and the neckline dipped low enough to make my throat dry and the way it flared at her waist it made her look untouchable and regal. Like fucking queen.

she smiles. "Yes! I would love to wear the life out of this dress!" I twirl one more time, the black skirt of the dress inflates as I spin. The sleeves are puffy, made with a soft net material, that's translucent. God, I love the sleeves. The designer had a black turtleneck shirt sewed in under the dress so my neck and arms aren't visible, however, the turtleneck shirt is a tad bit lighter than the rest of the dress to not take away from the dress' gorgeous design.

Maybe if he watches her get ready next time then he would see exactly what it is that takes her years to just put on clothes and makeup. After what felt like centuries to Axle, Ember walked down the stairs. She was wearing a sheath, sleeveless red dress with a split that went from her knee to her thigh. She was wearing silver high heels and a diamond necklace. Axle couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She looked absolutely amazing. She had applied simple makeup that complimented the colour of her eyes so perfectly well. The colour of the dress complemented her body, he liked how it hugged her body in the right places.

Her face twisted into immediate disapproval. “Absolutely not,” she remarked, marching over. “A T-shirt and jeans? What are you? An old lady who just came from Oakhaven to hide everything she has? No, no, no, you aren't hiding today.” She lunged toward the wardrobe and pulled out a garment I didn't even realize was there. She must have kept it there earlier. It was a thin, crimson gown…sleeveless and dangerously sheer. “Put this on,” she commanded. “Ember, I can't. It’s... it’s too much.” I protested, looking at the flimsy silk.

It was made of black velvet, stamped with the Silverclaw crest in silver foil. "I have something for you," he said. "For the ceremony." Emily walked over, her curiosity piquing. "A dress?" "Haha, an Armor," he laughed. He flipped the lid open. Emily gasped. Inside lay a gown of breathtaking intricacy. It was silver, but not the metallic, harsh silver of chrome. It was the soft, pearlescent silver of starlight. The fabric looked like liquid silk, designed to pool around her feet and cling to her curves.

Her wristband was wider—bold, dominant. **Liora’s** dress was deep violet velvet—flowing, asymmetrical hem, silver-threaded shadows embroidered along the sleeves like living ink. Black leather belt low on her hips, crimson accents at the cuffs. Her wristband was thinner, more delicate, but the fangs were sharper, more artistic.