Aurelia: We look good.
Serena grinned and shook her head.
Serena: We look damn good.
Aurelia: Mate will rip this tonight.
Serena: He absolutely will NOT rip this tonight. I won’t let him.
Aurelia: The slit makes it easier for him. He won’t even have to try. One pull. Gone.
Serena: Stop analyzing the structural vulnerabilities of my dress.
Aurelia: Good luck with stopping him.
She stepped into the heels. Of course the heels fit and matched. Of course every goddamn detail was perfect, because Finnick Shadowclaw did not do things halfway.
Aurelia: Mate brings us to a big party.
Serena: He is not. This is casual.
The door to their chambers opened.
Finnick Shadowclaw entered in formal dress, dark jacket, sapphire accents at the collar and cuffs, his hair pushed back, and his jaw clean.
Gods, he looked good. Unfairly good. Aggressively good.
His eyes found hers.
He stopped.
Fin had no words. His body halted two steps past the threshold the way a body halts when the brain receives information that exceeds its processing capacity.
The double doors closed behind him.
Finnick Shadowclaw, a man whose verbal precision was a professional asset, whose negotiations were legendary, whose ability to construct sentences under pressure had ended wars, was standing in his own doorway looking at a woman in a sapphire dress with his mouth slightly open and his vocabulary entirely offline.
Serena’s face flushed. The flush climbed her neck and hit her cheeks, the involuntary response of being looked at by a man whose gaze carried a weight she could feel on her skin.
She grinned. "I love it so much."

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