The sapphire silk clung to Elara’s skin like a restrictive shroud, a stark contrast to the velvet chains that already bound her. It was beautiful, undoubtedly so, flowing over her swollen belly in a way that almost softened the harsh angles pregnancy had carved into her face. But the beauty felt like a mockery, a gilded cage for a bird with clipped wings.
In a way, the silk is not just a physical confinement but also an emotional suffocation. To Elara, the silk is a tangible reminder of her husband's control over her.
“Don’t embarrass me, Elara." Damon's voice, cold and sharp, cut through the silence of their bedroom. He stood before her, a dark wolf draped in tailored black, his eyes gleaming with a barely contained ambition. "This is important. The royals are… particular. One wrong mov
