Christina's POV
I stood at the entrance to the photography studio, watching Ysolde as she posed for the final shots of the day. Her slender form was draped in a chainmail minidress that caught the light with each movement, transforming her into something otherworldly. Even among werewolves, Ysolde had a presence that commanded attention.
"Perfect! That's a wrap," called the photographer, and Ysolde's professional poise immediately softened into her familiar grin.
After she changed back into street clothes, we headed to Spitfire, a boutique tucked away in a corner of West 7th that catered to those with more discerning tastes. The shop carried exclusive pieces that most of the pack wouldn't appreciate, but that didn't stop them from pretending they did.
"I had Marissa hold some
