Arcane Firelights Masks Novels & Stories

"Hello, brother." Men wear their signature plain black mask that only covers their eyes and women wear their embellish golden half-mask with intricate design to hide their identity. Garrulous speeches and chatterings from the horde of businessmen quickly filled the auction house. Trevor and Sumire walk among them can't help but astonish to see the simple yet elegant black handrail, art galleries hanging on the wall of red and the golden baluster artistically drawn on the spiral stair is truly admirable.

Somewhere in the depths of the glimmering village, Amanda, Granger, Westfall, and Cressendra are waiting, watching over Kenna for us. None of us knows what’s going to happen. I’m not even sure how to do this. But as I sweep my gaze back toward my mate and my brother, I see the mystics appearing in their white robes and crystal masks, and then one of them appears behind me. She places the Firestone mask in my hands then brushes her thumb over my forehead in a silent blessing. Chills skitter up and down my spine, but I hold firm. I will not be afraid. I will not yield.

Now that his own son has put him in his place, in the burning pits of damnation, then I suppose everyone would be devoting themselves to the very guy who slit his throat. The doorbell chiming behind me instantly pulled me out of my thoughts, signaling someone came into the tavern. I took my mask from my satchel, tying it over my hair as it covers my eyes. It was a green mask, decorated with laces and jewels I bought from the King’s market. “What drinks would you be going for, Masked Lady? Everything is worth one gold coin.” he asked, nodding over to his collection of drinks. He takes a large empty glass, as he awaits for my answer.

Luca got us outfits, along with some sort of face masks to conceal our identity, which is an extremely brilliant move. My outfit consisted of black doll-like boots with a short corset dress that complimented my body so much, making me look like a bratz’s doll. Meanwhile, Luca was dressed in leather, it’s the first time I’d be seeing him in something like this, and it made my stomach curl with Lust as I looked him up and down. The mask I had on had bunny ears, concealing the top part of my face, and when Luca stood behind me, with his mask still in his hand, it gave me the perfect image of what I’ve been trying to picture since I saw it online.

I breathed quietly. Maria suddenly stepped closer holding something in her hands. Before I could react, she carefully fastened a silver mask across my face. I blinked in surprise. The mask curved elegantly around my eyes, decorated with tiny silver stones and moon shaped patterns. “What is this?” Maria smiled. “The Alpha must find you tonight.” I stared at her blankly. “What?” She giggled softly while adjusting the mask. “At Tombstone’s anniversary ball, every unmated lady wears a mask during her first celebration.”

Why can't I move? The scent of moonflowers grew stronger, making his head spin. His skin felt like it was burning, too tight and too sensitive. Every breath brought more of the flower's essence into his lungs, and he could feel his carefully maintained control slipping away piece by piece. Just as Ivan took another step forward, his eyes locked on Jason with dangerous intensity, the main doors to the hall burst open. A group of young women dressed in ceremonial blacks and silvers filed in, their entrance causing a ripple of murmurs throughout the room. Jason had never been so grateful for a distraction in his entire life.

The golden crystals, still dancing around me, faded into shimmering motes of light as we left the game stall. Ryan, his eyes still a striking silver, led me deeper into the town square, which was now transforming with the setting sun. Bonfires blazed, sending sparks dancing into the twilight. Laughter and music filled the air. It seemed they were having some kind of nightly celebration. And everyone, I noticed, was wearing a mask. Ryan turned to me, pulling a plain, dark wooden mask from the folds of his tunic. It was simple, unadorned, but it felt strangely weighty in my hands.

Her mask, a sleek black fox with delicate gold filigree around the eyes, felt heavier. Inside, the party already throbbed with low music and the murmur of too many bodies. Crystal chandeliers dripped warm light over velvet drapes and dark wood. Champagne flutes moved through the crowd like schools of silver fish. Everyone wore masks: lions, ravens, porcelain dolls, devils. Faces hidden, intentions very much not.

Another sliced my leg deep. I stumbled. Blood loss made me weak. That's when Elara acted. "Stay back!" she screamed. Light erupted from her hands. Not a gentle light. This was angry. Violent. The light made a wall between us and them. It pulsed with raw power. The air burned. The masked guys tried to push through. The light touched one guy's hand. His scream was horrible. His hand started smoking. Then burning. Then melting. The light was eating him alive.

Her heart thumped once—hard—before the terminal loaded. Inside was no chatroom. No stream gallery. No usernames. Instead, it was a gallery of masks. Each mask hovered in a shifting carousel, stylized avatars that represented users. Some were grotesque—stitched leather mouths, eyeless mannequins. Others elegant—gilded Venetian designs with cruel smiles. The more elaborate the mask, the more power its user seemed to wield. At the center of the display was a mask outlined in red. A silver fox.