She wore a thin floor-length skirt of navy blue that was so dark it was nearly black. The color reminded him of Luka’s scales. It was lightweight and sheer, and her top was the same. It tied at her nape, dipping low in front and leaving her back exposed, a sliver of her stomach bare. Her bands of light glowed faintly around her wrists, and he could swear streaks of lightning flashed in her violet eyes. Her golden hair was loose, peppered with the lightly falling snow, and her feet were bare because she wouldn’t have it any other way.
