She looked fine, at least physically, as she approached with her head down, held firmly between two of her fellow weres, the males towering over her. Her long, blonde hair had been cut to her shoulders, her normal leather jacket and skinny jeans replaced by a rather frumpy dress. Just seeing Charlotte in a skirt made me wince. Even when she'd accompanied me to the court of the vampire queens, she'd refused to wear one. Whatever Yure had done to her had to be nasty if she willingly wore all that ugly pink satin and ruffled lace.
Charlotte didn't look up, hands clasped before her, bound with heavy cuffs. A choker of the same metal hugged her neck. She looked so weak, frail, compared to the powerful, stoic girl I knew, I wanted to reach for her, but I held off, looking up to glare at Yure as she was pulled up the first step to stand with her back to him.