Blue Masquerade Mask Novels & Stories

He sighed and brushed his hand in his hair the other hand resting in his pocket and he stopped smiling and said in a deep voice, “Seeing you now is risking my life, you know my first name and for the first time I am not afraid to take such a step.” He turned to me and this time he looked straight in my eyes and he continues, “I will try and come back here to see you. But if I can’t and you can recognize me without my mask when we meet once again, then I won’t hesitate to be yours forever. This I promise.”

I wanted to rip the mask off, to let him see the monster and the woman, and to lose myself in the heat of his embrace. But as his fingers moved toward the silk ribbons at the back of my head, a cold splash of reality hit me. I am a murderer, I reminded myself. I am an impostor in a dead girl's palace. He is a man of the South, a man of secrets. If I let him see me—truly see me—I would lose the only armor I had left. The power of my eyes was my greatest weapon, but my mask was my greatest shield. Just as his fingers brushed the knot of the ribbon, I grabbed his wrist. My grip was unnaturally strong, fueled by the desperation of a cornered animal.

“Find out anyway. Offer triple payments if necessary. I need names, locations, anything that might explain how someone becomes capable of what we witnessed.” “Understood. What about the mask itself? If we could identify the material or craftsmanship—” “Good thinking.” I nodded approvingly. “Larry, describe the mask again. Every detail you can remember.” The injured survivor closed his eyes, concentrating. “Black material. Looked like leather or treated cloth. No decorations or identifying marks. Covered everything except the eyes.” “Eye color?” “Dark. Brown or black, maybe grey. Hard to tell in the chaos.” Useless. Thousands of fighters had dark eyes. But it was a starting point.

If I am lucky enough, I am not even going to see his scrawny face and besides, this is his daughter's birthday party. Not his. I just hope she is nice. The bass of the music continue growing louder and louder as we get closer to the entrance. I tug at the lace edge of my mask and steal a glance at Brie and Zuby. They are already all smiles with their masks still on. Brie’s mask is a bold dark emerald, matching her same colored dress that hugs her body like it was made perfectly just for her. Zuby’s mask is a deep blue with hints of gold traces and soft gold feathers. She is wearing a midnight blue dress, and I fucking love the daring long thigh slit of her dress.

According to her, the masks they wear at this club arent the frilly, lacy kind that barely conceal anything. The mask itself is expertly shaped from a thin layer of supple leather and is painted in vibrant shades of blue and purple and black. When its on, it covers my face from the bottom of my cheeks to the top of my forehead, the edges sweeping up from the eyeline to emulate wings. Each one is scattered with tiny jewel-colored crystals that catch the light and shimmer iridescently. The only parts of my face that will be visible once I put it on will be my jaw, my mouth, and my eyes. Freya gently takes the mask from my hands. "I'll put it on for you. We need to be wearing them when we arriv

The Masquerade mask was Harriet's special mask, a white snake mask with one eye hole on the right side. "Actually, this is my mother's mask," said Harriet quietly. She then smiled and held up another mask box. Harriet showed it to Liam who was still furrowing his brows at her previous words and opened the box. Another white mask appeared in their vision. It was a white wolf mask with golden stripes around its eyes. Harriet smiled proudly showing the mask design. It was the one she ordered yesterday, which turned out to be perfect and ready at just the right time. "This is for me?" Liam asked.

Each attendee is directed to select a mask from the counters, setting the stage for an evening of mystery and style. Emma, in harmony with her dress, opts for a captivating red mask adorned with a long black feather cascading down its left side. The mask, veiling almost her entire face, adds an intriguing aura, yet her distinctive emerald eyes remain an unmistakable identifier for those attempting to distinguish her amidst the masked crowd.

A majestic and ruthless cold aura exudes from him, giving one the urge to subconsciously bow to him. On the man’s face was a sleek and metallic cold, black mask that had intricate, sharp, fierce yet minimalistic designs that made it seem as if it wanted to come alive. The mask's eye cutouts are sharp, revealing the man's piercing, deep, and frigid blue eyes. The mask edges were sharp and precise, enhancing the man's intimidation, majesty, coldness, and ruthlessness.

Her eyes fidgeted between him and her target before laughing nervously. "I-- w-who are you?" she asked before gulping, waiting for the target to fall to the ground. He chuckled lightly, keeping his gaze on hers. He raised his right hand and removed the masquerade mask he was wearing. "The mafia boss who's hosting this event," he introduced. Her eyes shifted back to him, having a clear view of his face despite being in a dimmed room. He had bright blue eyes, a defined nose and jawline, arched brows, and seducing pink lips. "S-say that again?" Keisha was flabbergasted.