Deku Masked Novels & Stories

"James?" Luke and Mr. Preston exclaimed at the same time. The newcomer was James Brennan, my junior, who had joined the hospital as an intern at the same time as Kate. "James Brennan, is this how you speak to the dean?" Luke chided with a frown. "Has studying abroad made you forget your manners?" James had studied abroad and was one of the few doctors in this hospital that wasn't under Luke's mentorship. Because of this, Luke had never liked James. He always saw the latter as a privileged rich kid who managed to worm his way into a medical career overseas.

I muttered, leaning closer so he could hear me over the buzz of the crowd, “Reagan doesn’t even know the names of half these people.” He smirked, his gaze sweeping the room. “Everyone’s wearing a mask.” “It’s a masquerade party, I think.” I spotted a nearby table stacked with ornate masks, clearly intended for anyone who needed one. I grabbed two and turned to Blaze, holding one out to him. “Here. Let’s blend in.” I slipped my mask on—a delicate, silver piece adorned with tiny crystals—and gestured for Blaze to do the same. He took his time, studying his black and gold mask like it was some kind of alien artifact before finally putting it on.

He hadn’t fully understood what that meant until now. Everywhere he looked, the ultra-elite were shedding their daytime restraint. In a shadowed corner near the main salon bar, a statuesque redhead in a feathered gold mask had her back pressed against the wall while a man in a black-on-black suit—Ken recognized him as a prominent hedge fund manager—kissed her throat with open-mouthed hunger. His hand moved under her long dress, fingers working skillfully as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. No one around them batted an eye. This was the Hamptons after dark. At this hidden mask party, the rules dissolved with the champagne.

I bet you look good in it, too. The bass from the party downstairs thumps through the mattress, a slow, steady beat that matches the pulse in my cock. I lie there, alone in the dark, waiting for the next buzz and it comes too quickly. Barnabythebear: Tomorrow at the rink by 8 PM. Come if you want *wink emoji*

A while ago in the palace " Alpha Avarez, you can't do this, what will the people think of the Alpha of the strongest pack going to the demon market?" A fine young man was seen following a masked face man while nagging at him like his mother would. "Derek, you need to calm down........who says I'm going there as a king, I'll be preparing the disguise myself". The masked face man said while heading towards his room. Derek was tired of adding formalities and just went straight to the point "Avarez Dunek, you need to stop this madness you think you can display, for Pete's sake, you are a king"

"Isn't this all because of you? If you hadn't helped her back then, would Brianna have ever scored that well in math?" I dug my left hand into my thigh, hard, forcing myself not to tremble. The others smiled and echoed her, as if they'd all suddenly forgotten what they had done to me in high school. During lunch, it was like they were following a script, casually showing off how well their lives had turned out. Finneas took a call and loudly mentioned a deal worth millions of dollars. Melissa showed off a diamond ring that was clearly several carats large. Vexana Jones made sure everyone noticed the luxury watch on her wrist.

Marcello’s eyes widen, his body instinctively recoiling despite the restraints. “Let’s make sure you never forget who owns you,” I sneer, pressing the searing tip of the poker against his chest. He thrashes violently, but a guard pins him in place as I carve the De Luca crest into his skin. The hiss of flesh burning beneath the metal mingles with his guttural cries, the acrid stench nearly overwhelming. When I pull the poker away, the symbol is clear, raw, and blistered. “Now there’s no doubt about who you belong to,” I say, leaning down to meet his tear-streaked gaze.

It was elegant and terrifying. We approached a woman seated behind a sleek glass desk. Her face was expressionless. When she saw Mr. Everhart, she stood quickly and bowed, deeply, reverently, before sliding something across the counter: a mask. Without hesitation, Mr. Everhart took it. The mask was white porcelain, etched with subtle obsidian lines. He placed it over his face and pinned a silver tag to his lapel. The name engraved on it was, Alpha. He turned to me “You won’t be needing this yet,” he said quietly, though his eyes behind the mask were unreadable.

“The color of that dress suits you perfectly.” My cheeks flush with a rosy pink sort of hue, and I’m glad to have the mask covering my face. I glance down at the intricate lacework of my dark blue gown and the delicate Venetian mask that hides my identity. “Thank you,” I reply, my own voice barely more than a whisper as well. “You look handsome as well. I like your mask.” Karl chuckles, reaching up to touch the simple black mask covering half of his face. “You’re sure?” he asks. “I was worried it’s too simple.”

He asked. "I want to resume work at White-Angel Inc." "Okay..." His voice trailed. "And how do you intend to do that?" He asked. "Except you have had plastic surgery or intent to wear a mask, I fail to see how that is possible." He added. I chuckled. "You won't believe it but I have had my face reconstructed," I said. "What?! How and why?" "Well, it was not by choice. I was in an accident that left my face disfigured and I had to get my face reconstructed. That was why I had disappeared for all those weeks. I was in a coma." I explained the to him.