Tempest stood at the top of the stairs, a vision in shimmering black and silver. The Rose Vond dress flowed over her curves like liquid starlight, the fabric catching the light with every breath she took. Her dark hair was swept up in an elegant style that left a few curls framing her face. The necklace I’d given her glittered at her throat. She was breathtaking. But it wasn’t just the dress or the hair or the makeup. It was the way she held herself, shoulders back, chin high, a small smile playing at her lips. Confident. Radiant. Taking up exactly the space she deserved.
