Chapter 361\u00a0<\/p>\n
Riley\u2019s POV\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t say anything\u00a0<\/p>\n
Just reached into the shopping bag and pulled out the dess\u00a0<\/p>\n
Finished\u00a0<\/p>\n
Red. Spaghetti straps. Generic cut. The kind of thing you\u2019d find in the clearance bin of any downtown boutique Cheap, boring, and completely forgettable.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Even when they tried to pretend they cared-they couldnt be bothered to do it right.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cHow thoughtful, Luna Zara,\u201d I said, lacing each word with sarcasm, dragging out \u201cthoughtful\u201d like a knife across glass\u00a0<\/p>\n
Her smile twitched. She knew exactly what I meant.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you don\u2019t like it,\u201d she said awkwardly, \u201cI can find something else. Something more your taste.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I tossed the dress back at her. \u201cYou do realize I\u2019m still covered in bruises, right? You want me to show up at a formal event looking like I walked through a warzone?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
The welts Alaric left behind with his belt had faded, but he shadows were still there-on my arms, my thighs, my back. And the worst of it-my shoulder-still bore the angry red stretch of half-healed scars. A strappy dress like this would put every mark on display.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Zara blinked like she\u2019d only just remembered. \u201cI-I didn\u2019t think-\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, I figured. You don\u2019t think much when it comes to me.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I\u2019m sorry, truly,\u201d she murmured, lowering her eyes. \u201cI wasn\u2019t being considerate. I apologize.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cForget it. Just give me the money. I\u2019ll buy my own dress one that actually fits.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
My body had never caught up with me. Years of malnourishment behind cell doors will do that. Where I should\u2019ve filled out, I never did. I was small, fragile-looking. Thin in ways that screamed neglect.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Everyone in the Ebonclaw Pack had model-perfect genes. Alaric stood at 6\u20191. Kael Vale was even taller. Zara had once been a beauty queen at Mooncrest Academy.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Me?\u00a0<\/p>\n
1 barely hit 5\u20193, with bones like bird wings and not a curse in sight. If I didn\u2019t have this face-one that mirrored every sculpted feature of theirs-no one would believe I was the Ebonclaw heiress at all.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The dress Zara bought wasn\u2019t mine-it was tailored to Scarlett\u2019s measurements.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Of course it was.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She turned red from neck to ears and fumbled inside her purse before shoving a card at me. \u201cThere\u2019s\u2026 ten thousand credits on here. If it\u2019s not enough, just ask.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
And with that, she practically ran.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t waste time. Threw on a hoodie and left the esta flagged a hover-cab straight to the Nightshade\u00a0<\/p>\n
Tue, Dec 30\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 361\u00a0<\/p>\n
Mall.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But I didn\u2019t go to a dress boutique.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I walked into a suit tailor\u2019s shop.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Formal. Functional. Full coverage,\u00a0<\/p>\n
Exactly what I needed.\u00a0<\/p>\n
*.35%\u00a0<\/p>\n
Finished\u00a0<\/p>\n
The assistant helped me pick a fitted black suit. I took it to the changing room. As I zipped it up and turned to face the mirror, something caught my attention just outside the door.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A guy, Young, Slim, Clean-cut. No Pack crest visible, but judging by the leather briefcase and polished shoes, he worked for someone high up.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He held up a ruined jacket. \u201cYou really can\u2019t fix it?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
The tailor grimaced. \u201cIt\u2019s Moonfang silk, sir. Top grade. But the burn is right through the chest. You\u2019d need a master stitcher to reweave the fibers, and even then it won\u2019t be perfect.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
The guy cursed under his breath. \u201cDamn it. Our Alpha as a summit tonight-this was supposed to be his custom piece.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
He looked like he was about to cry.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I glanced at the jacket in his hands. It was exquisite. Rich texture. Tailored to someone broad in the shoulders and lean at the waist. I\u2019d only seen this level of craftsmanship a few times-always on visiting Alphas from the Stormridge Pack or Northhaven.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Moonfang silk could cost a small fortune per yard.\u00a0<\/p>\n
And repairing it would cost even more.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He turned-and caught sight of me.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I was still in my black suit, brushing invisible lint from the sleeve. The shoulders gave me power I didn\u2019t have in my bones. The clean lines skimmed my waist and made my pale skin glow like polished pearl. Under the lights, I didn\u2019t look like a victim. I looked like someone in control.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He rushed over, desperation plain on his face.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re the tailor here, right? Can you help?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I blinked. \u201cWhat?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cThis jacket. Please. If you can patch it before sundown, I\u2019ll pay anything. Anything.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I should\u2019ve told him no.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But the way he looked at me-like I mattered-like he neeled me\u2026 it made something flicker deep inside. Something I hadn\u2019t felt in a long time.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cSay yes,\u201d Nyra whispered faintly. \u201cLet them see what your hands can do. Let them remember who you are.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I\u2026 embroider something over it?\u201d I asked cautious.\u00a0<\/p>\n
2\/4\u00a0<\/p>\n
14:35 Tue, Dec 30 G G\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 361\u00a0<\/p>\n
He hesitated. \u201cLike\u2026 a patch?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cMore like a crest. I could use Moonweave-something detailed. Artistic.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
The man looked torn.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know Moonweave?\u201d he asked, eyebrows rising.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI learned it\u2026 a while ago.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
35%\u00a0<\/p>\n
Finished\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t tell him I learned it behind prison bars. That the warden saw potential in my hands and put me under a master seamstress who\u2019d been jailed for stealing royal silks.\u00a0<\/p>\n
That those women broke me, starved me, beat me-but never let anyone ruin my fingers.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Because my hands meant profit.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t know if I was any good. Maybe I was just better than the rest of the broken women I stitched beside.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But I could try.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright,\u201d he said at last, teeth clenched. \u201cYou\u2019re right. The hole\u2019s visible anyway. Might as well make it art.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
He handed over the jacket like he was handing me his last breath.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I took it and sat down, rolling up my sleeves.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have thread?\u201d I asked the tailor.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She brought over a box of high-end silks-black, gold, crimson.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I chose gold.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Moonweave embroidery required precision.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Before stitching, I split one thread into forty-eight slivers-each thinner than a hair. The assistant\u2019s jaw dropped. The guy with the jacket looked like he\u2019d seen a ghost.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I let the needle glide between my fingers. In. Out. Under Over.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It was meditative. Addictive.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I stitched in silence-just me, the thread, and the silk.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Each movement was deliberate. The threads formed the shape of a flower. A peony, bold and unfurling. Layer upon layer of golden petals shimmered under the light. I added tiny silver strands in the center, mimicking morning dew.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The whole thing pulsed with life.\u00a0<\/p>\n
When I finished, I sat back and exhaled slowly.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The guy took the jacket with trembling fingers-and gasped.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cThis\u2026 this is unreal. You didn\u2019t fix it-you elevated it.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
3\/4\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u0f66\u0f7c \u0f5f\u0fad 35%-\u00a0<\/p>\n
14:35 Tue, Dec 30 G\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 361\u00a0<\/p>\n
The staff all crowded around, murmuring admiration.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I smiled, faint and tired. \u201cGlad it\u2019s good enough.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cGood enough? It\u2019s perfect.\u201d He looked dazed. \u201cWhat do owe you?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing,\u201d I said. \u201cCall it a favor to the Moon. I needed something good today. This helped.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
He thanked me again-profusely-and hurried out with the jacket.\u00a0<\/p>\n
When I stepped outside, the sky had gone dark.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Streetlamps lit the sidewalk in soft golden hues.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I flagged another hover-cab, returned to the estate-only to find it empty.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Alaric, Zara, Scarlett, and Kael were already gone.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t care.\u00a0<\/p>\n
In fact, I was halfway back up the stairs when a black SUV pulled up, window down, driver glaring.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cGet in,\u201d he snapped. \u201cAlpha and Luna said to bring you to the auction.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t move.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He frowned. \u201cWell?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I narrowed my eyes. \u201cGet out. Open the door.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
He scoffed. \u201cYou don\u2019t have hands?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Wrong answer.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I took one step toward him. My presence alone made him flinch.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cRemind them,\u201d Nyra purred. \u201cRemind them who you are.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
They still hadn\u2019t figured it out.\u00a0<\/p>\n
This wasn\u2019t about me begging to be accepted.\u00a0<\/p>\n
This was about them needing me to marry into Stormridge for the Pack\u2019s survival.\u00a0<\/p>\n
They needed me.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Send Gifts\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u53e3\u00a0<\/p>\n
Joseph King is an editor and storyteller who ensures every chapter is clear, polished, and engaging for readers.<\/p>\n
Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe 361 Chapter 361\u00a0 Riley\u2019s POV\u00a0 I didn\u2019t say anything\u00a0 Just reached into the shopping bag […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[35],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20634","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-pack-princess"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20634","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20634"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20634\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20634"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20634"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20634"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}