All Chapters of His Mask, My Sin: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

He continued to pump me hard, four, five, six times, each time shooting another load inside of me. Finally, after what felt like a minute of coming, we began to breathe again. It was like finally reaching the surface after diving deep underwater. We couldn’t stop panting as we just stared at each other’s face.I wrapped my arms around his wet, muscular torso and held him. I could feel his cock slowly soften inside of me, and I wanted to keep him in me as long as possible. Our bodies were covered in sweat and cum, and I felt my skin rapidly began to cool as a gentle breeze rolled in from the open window. Finally, slowly, Ezra pulled his still semi-hard cock out of my ass. I began to feel the amazing sensation of his cum trickling out of my hole. I didn’t give a fuck how messy we were, I just wanted to lay there with him for as long as possible.Sleep started to overcome both of us as we embraced each other on my bed, arms and legs intertwined. “I can’t believe how perfect that was,”

It happens slowly.Too slowly.At first, I think it’s the dust from the shattered walls settling—fine particles drifting through the sunlight like ash after a fire. My hands are still pressed to my father’s chest, slick with blood, my vision tunneling, my ears ringing so loudly I can barely hear myself breathing.Then his body changes.The skin beneath my palms loses resistance.Not slack. Not cold.It thins.“Dad…?” My voice cracks, barely a sound.The wound in his chest no longer bleeds. The blood dries instantly, turning dark, then gray. His fingers—his fingers—begin to crumble at the edges, breaking apart like burnt paper.“No,” I whisper. “No—no—no—”Ezra freezes beside me.“What the hell…” he breathes.My father’s face collapses inward, features softening, then dissolving entirely as his body turns to ash beneath my hands. The weight disappears. The warmth vanishes.All that’s left is dust.A pile of fine, gray dust where my father had been seconds ago.The room is silent.Dead

The silence comes first.Not peace — silence like something holding its breath.I notice it when the candles stop flickering.The air in the Keep goes still, heavy, like gravity has thickened. Even the murmured conversations from the far hall fade, as if the walls themselves are listening.I straighten slowly from the bench near the balcony doors.Something is wrong.Ezra isn’t back yet.He’d been called away by the council — procedural questions, they said. Security formalities. I didn’t like the way the witch avoided my eyes when she told him. I liked it even less when Ezra kissed my forehead like it might be the last time.Now I feel… exposed.Footsteps approach behind me.I turn, already braced.Matteo stops a few feet away.He looks different.Not playful. Not warm. His usual softness is gone, replaced by something sharp and coiled beneath his skin. His dark curls are damp, his shirt rumpled like he came in a hurry.“You’re not guarded the way you think you are,” he says quietly.

CHAPTER 16-THE SILENT BROTHERSWe don’t tell anyone where we’re going.That alone should’ve been the warning.The city thins the farther out we drive — buildings giving way to half-abandoned warehouses, flickering streetlights, roads that look like they forgot what they were meant for. Fog clings low to the ground, crawling over cracked asphalt like something alive.Ezra keeps one hand on the wheel, the other on my knee.Not possessive.Grounding.Matteo sits in the backseat, unusually quiet. He’s been that way since Severiel appeared. Since angels stopped feeling theoretical.“You sure about this?” Matteo finally asks.“No,” Ezra answers immediately.“Yes,” I say at the same time.We exchange a look.Ezra exhales through his nose. “You don’t even know what they’ll do to you.”“I know what they can do,” I reply. “And I know they’re the only ones who can find her.”The image of my stepmother — Ezra’s mother — flashes in my mind. Her laugh. The way she used to tuck blankets around me li

The bike screams as it cuts through the night.Wind rips at my face, cold and sharp, the city blurring into streaks of light as Ezra pushes the engine harder. The venom-hybrid beneath us feels alive—vibrating, snarling, hungry. Every turn sends my stomach lurching, but I don’t tell him to slow down.I don’t want slow.I want MatteoThe city dies behind us.Concrete gives way to blackened forest and broken roads swallowed by shadow. The air changes—thick, metallic, charged with something old and cruel. Ezra eases off the throttle as a shape rises ahead of us.The vampire base.It’s not a castle. Not a mansion.It’s a cathedral.Or what used to be one.Stone spires claw at the sky, cracked and half-collapsed, stained dark with centuries of blood. Gargoyles leer from the edges, their mouths split too wide. The windows glow faint red from within, like the building itself is breathing.Ezra cuts the engine behind a line of dead trees.“We go in quiet,” he says, already pulling weapons fro