Bloodhound Without Mask Novels & Stories

I purred, my voice laced in sarcasm as I pouted my lips. “Aww... Poor, lonely Enzo.” He scowled, his deep voice cutting through the air. “Wear your damn mask.” I rolled my eyes and held my mask. It had a peacock design, with feathers affixed to the sides. Golden detailing lined the edges, giving it a delicate yet exotic look. I put it on, and it shielded my features, except for my eyes and lips. I turned to look at him. His mask was the design of a wolf, its expression a scowl just like the one he carried permanently on his face. The only covered parts of his face were his forehead and eyelids. His eyes, nose, and mouth were exposed.

I asked. Declan furrowed his brow and shook his head. "They had tattoos of werewolves, skulls, and bones on their bodies. Their faces were painted, making them unrecognisable, and I couldn't identify them because their scents were masked. I could only perceive charcoal and mud on them. And I saw a glowing downward-pointing triangle on their forehead." I nodded, knowing it would take a powerful werewolf to distinguish between scents, masked or not. Looking at Declan, I doubted his sense of smell was strong enough to do so.

Talon regretted nothing, but then he never had to explain himself. My father wandered towards the window and picked up the attackers head. Holding it by a clump of long brown hair, features covered by a black mask with eyeholes. He peeled it off to reveal a man in his thirties. “I don’t recognise him,” I said angrily. “Does he have a scent?” “Only that foul citrus masking,” he muttered back. I looked over in the far corner, a gold watch had come away from its owner's arm. I winced as I remembered how that had tasted in my mouth as Talon had shredded the arm from his torso.

Now, I understand why they called him the Bloodhound. The masked men began to surround him and his men, as if trying to overwhelm him with their presence. But he didn’t look faze. Liam didn’t need help. He moved like a shadow; his wolf form a blur of speed and just sheer bloodlust. His wolf form was so huge, so intimidating. It reminded me of Mason’s wolf form, only this one has a deep shade of brown furs with sharp stripes of black. He looked like a total beast, an absolute Alpha. Liam ducked and raked his sharp claws across the flesh of the masked enemies, teeth snapping at their throats. Blood sprayed through the air and I almost gasp at the sheer brutality of it all. I’m used to fighting

The woman stood still, her body tense. Her golden mask, a true work of art adorned with gemstones, concealed the upper part of her face, revealing only her lips and chin. It was more than just a mask—it was a masterpiece. Elijah's expression darkened as he whispered to his subordinate, "After all this searching, you bring me this?!" The subordinate stammered nervously, "S-Sir, we hired the best private investigators in Centrolis and followed your leads. This is the result."

As he rasped out, Sarah wobbled and slipped effortlessly back on the floor, ''Where is he?! Where is your damn Tiger?!” ''I'm right here!” Came back the echo behind him. Everyone froze. The panting Sarah raised her head. A tall man, dressed in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a khaki jeans tugged in a pair of black ankle boot. A scarf secured around his face, masking his identity and the long hair was down covering his eyebrows. Only his eyes were apparent, a grey glittering piercing eyes, the eyes of a wolf!

“Wha-” I halt, not sure if Harvey was there to harm her or help her. Rosie catches my gaze, but so does the Hunter, his mask of shade still on. They never wanted us to see their faces because we would know who to look for on the streets. I leered my eyes at them, “Let her go,” I was more than ready to fight this asshole. But, instead, I feel a low growl behind me, the massive body of fur strides forward. Atticus towered over Hunter.

Aurelia The moment I locked my bedroom door, I ran to the bathroom window and peered out at the compound below. I didn’t know why, some animal instinct, maybe, but I needed to see. My breath fogged the glass. There, standing directly in front of the main gate, was the masked man. He was now wearing a black hood, with that same featureless mask, standing motionless. He stared straight up into the security camera like he knew exactly where it was pointed, like he was invisible, like he wanted to be seen.

I hadn't replied to him when his gaze dropped to my arm, and his eyes darkened. The deep claw mark they left on me was bleeding. “You're bleeding,” his hand moved to my arm, his finger hovering over the mark “I'm… fine,” my voice cracked barely above a whisper, my heart pounding. He stood and gathered me in his arms. Just as he turned to leave, something caught my attention. The mask on the ground. The mask had fallen off one of the men's faces just before they transformed. His face… I could swear that I've seen it before in the Packhouse.

Octavia killing ten children to steal a bond that was never hers. I thought about the girl who'd walked barefoot out of a gathering in a blue dress and I didn't recognize her anymore. She was a ghost from another life and the woman standing in this clearing with blood under her fingernails and a wolf in her chest and a mask in her hands was someone else entirely. I lifted the mask and pressed it to my face and the wood was warm against my skin and it fit like it had been carved for me and the smell of smoke and ash filled my nose and my own scent disappeared.