The first showed an ombré ceremonial gown, its pale blue skirt cascading in layers like the sky at twilight, delicate silver threads embroidered across the hem catching the light with timeless elegance. Lyra recognized it instantly—she had fallen in love with it at a territory artisan's showing last year. Fenris had laughed and promised to commission it for her birthday, said he would escort her to the annual Pack Alliance gathering.
The second image was a pair of custom crystal-heeled slippers encrusted with moonstones and diamonds, the stones so densely set they blazed even in the captured light. Even in a still image, the shoes radiated obscene luxury—the kind that would steal attention from any gown, no matter how exquisite.
And the last few images...
Selene, her arm linked through Fenris's, the two of them standing before the polished mirror in his private chambers. On Selene's finger sat the ring that should have been Lyra's.
In the images, Selene's smile curved her eyes into crescents, sweetness practically spilling from her gaze as she nestled against Fenris's side. Her body language screamed intimacy, the kind of closeness reserved for true mates. The sight was almost obscene.