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135

~Elara’s POV

The music softened as the last model took her final steps down the runway, the lights glinting off the intricate beading we had painstakingly sewn onto the gowns. The host stepped forward again, microphone in hand, her eyes bright.

"Ladies and gentlen," the host said, her voice carrying across the hall, "Luna Elara and Alpha Darlon have truly outdone themselves today. But we want to hear from you, our esteed designers, Alphas, and Lunas. What are your thoughts?"

I felt my stomach tighten. This was the mont, the mont when everyone would weigh in on our work. The applause subsided into a quiet, anticipatory hum.

A designer in the front row, a middle-aged man in a sharply tailored suit, stood. "The attention to detail is remarkable," he said, gesturing toward the runway. "The embroidery, the textures... and the way each piece tells its own story, this is not just fashion. It’s art. Well done, Luna Elara."

I felt a flush of pride. My hand rested lightly on Darlon’s arm under the table. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice shaky but full of gratitude.

Another Luna, seated at a nearby table, leaned forward slightly. "I particularly loved the balance," she said. "The soft, flowing pieces contrasted beautifully with the sharper, more structured outfits. It’s clear a lot of thought went into the sequencing of the show as well."

I smiled at her, nodding. "Thank you. That was exactly what we hoped to achieve. Every piece was ant to speak differently, but still tell one story together."

An Alpha near the back of the hall, tall and imposing, gave a slow nod. "I must admit, I didn’t expect to see such creativity from a single pack. The fabrics, the designs... It’s ambitious, and it works. Impressive work, Luna Elara."

I couldn’t help but lean slightly toward Darlon. "They really see it," I whispered, my heart swelling.

He squeezed my hand lightly. "Of course. You and your team poured everything into this night. Every stitch, every seam, they can’t help but notice."

Another designer, a young woman with bright eyes, spoke next. "I loved the bold colors and the way the gowns moved on the models. You could feel the energy of the designs. I think this will inspire a lot of people in this field to push boundaries themselves."

I let out a soft laugh, a mixture of relief and pride. "That was the intention," I said softly. "We wanted the designs to feel alive, not just pretty. To inspire, to excite."

A Luna sitting across the hall added, "And the way the models carried themselves, it enhanced everything. The confidence, the presence. You can see the care behind the outfits, but also the joy of wearing them."

I nodded slowly, taking a quiet breath. "Yes. That was very important to us. Every model was prepared to feel proud, to feel part of the story we were telling."

The applause swelled again as several Alphas and Lunas chid in at once, praising specific details, the sequencing, the use of color, the creativity of accessories, the confidence of the models. I felt a rush of satisfaction. Every long night of planning, every fitting, every last-minute adjustnt, everything had led to this. And people were noticing.

Darlon’s eyes t mine across the table, and he gave a small, approving nod. "This is exactly why you do this," he whispered. "Seeing them react... seeing the recognition of all your effort. That’s what it’s about."

"Yes," I whispered back. "Not just , though. My team, they made this possible. Every seamstress, every stylist, every assistant. This is their mont too."

One of the younger Alphas stood suddenly. "I have to say," he said, his voice carrying through the hall, "I was skeptical at first, thinking one company couldn’t create such a range of styles. But Luna Elara, your work... it speaks for itself. This is mastery, discipline, and vision all in one."

I felt my throat tighten, my fingers gripping the edge of my dress. "Thank you," I murmured. "That ans a lot."

Another Luna added, "And it’s clear that the pieces were made with respect for the models themselves. Each gown moves beautifully, but also enhances the wearer, not just the design. That balance... It’s rare."

I glanced at Darlon. "You see? They’re seeing it," I whispered.

"They always do when the work is real," he replied. His voice was calm, but pride lingered in his eyes.

The host returned to the stage, her hands raised slightly. "It seems the response is unanimous! Luna Elara and her team have created a truly remarkable collection. Alphas, Lunas, and designers alike are impressed with the vision, craftsmanship, and artistry. Let’s give another round of applause!"

The crowd erupted again. Caras clicked nonstop, people whistled and cheered, and my chest felt as if it might burst with pride. I glanced at my staff, seated quietly at the side, smiles on their faces, eyes glimring with relief and excitent. Every late night, every challenge, every minute of preparation, they were part of this mont too.

I leaned toward Darlon again. "I... I can’t believe it worked. They really see it. They see everything we’ve done. I’m so happy."

He smiled, a soft, proud smile that made my heart flutter. "And I’m so proud of you."

The host stepped forward again, smiling like she had been waiting for this mont all night. The crowd quieted, not completely silent, just that soft hush of people holding their breath for sothing important.

"Ladies and gentlen," she said, her voice warm and bright, "before we continue with the evening, we would like to call on Luna Elara and Alpha Darlon, along with their wonderful team, to the stage. Please, join us so we can properly appreciate you for this beautiful collection and the work behind it."

My heart jumped. It felt almost like soone tapped it from the inside. I glanced at Darlon. He had already stood up, calm as always, like he was built for monts like this. I hesitated for half a second before I stood too.

"Co," he murmured, leaning closer to . "They want to see you. not the idea of you. You."

I nodded, even though I didn’t trust my voice. My knees wobbled a little, and I hoped nobody noticed.

As we stepped toward the stage, the room shifted from that hush into applause. not wild or chaotic, just steady and sincere, like waves coming to shore. I recognized faces, designers I used to admire from a distance. Now they were clapping for us. for .

When we reached the center, the host extended a hand toward first.

"Luna Elara," she said, "these designs, this vision, this execution... it took my breath away today. You didn’t just present fashion. You presented heart. dedication. leadership. and we honor you."

I tried to speak, and nothing ca out at first. I swallowed and tried again.

"Thank you," I said, voice low but steady. "To be honest, none of this happened because of alone. My team... they worked day and night. They fixed mistakes that only we noticed. They turned sketches into fabric, fabric into life, and life into a mont like this. so if you’re clapping... clap for them too."

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