Full Mask Mark Invincible Novels & Stories

SUNESIS'S POV The silver mask was cold against my skin. It felt completely different from the hot, stuffy air of the dressing room. I stood in front of the broken mirror, my hands shaking as I fixed my long black silk dress. I made sure the fabric covered my shoulders and arms perfectly. I had to hide everything from my neck down. Underneath the smooth cloth were the deep, ugly burn scars that ruined my body, the painful marks from the fire that took my family away.

But Silco doesn’t comment on that. “The file is on the table,” Scar lifts her chin at the table, “it will put Ava Fuller behind bars for one to two years, if you can crack them within three days.” “At your command, princess,” Silco takes off his hat for an exaggerated bow to tease her before he hands over that hat to the maid, along with his suit and his cane. But not the mask. He is always with the mask, in front of everyone. Scar hates it, more today. She longs for the warmth in his eyes, and she wonders if the mask would reveal more of those. She is in particular need of that today.

‎He had a high nose bridge, and a small pointed nose. ‎On his left brow rested a small scar that separated his thick brow into identical halves. ‎He was wearing a black face mask, engraved with a painting of a skull. ‎I couldn't see his lower face clearly but I could easily tell he was charming beyond words. ‎Even terrified as I was, I couldn't deny the fact that he was angelic. ‎His attire consisted of a sleeveless black garment, partially revealing his broad chest and large arms, emphasizing his ripped physique. On his left shoulder rested the number “50”

she sniffled. Markus pulled back, shaking his head in disagreement as he reached to wipe the tears from her face. “No, no, my dear girl. I am just glad you are safe. No matter what those bastards did to me, I stayed brave. I didn’t betray you, and I didn’t give them the Canix secrets,” he said. Myra felt a wave of relief and immense pride for her father, for not giving in. ”Thank you so much, Dad. The monsters are gone; they will not bother you again. They won't ever dare touch our family,” Myra assured him.

I need her to know this. “Is there a word you can think of?” I ask. “No…” “If you don’t have a word in mind, you can use my name.” “Viktor?” I shake my head. No. “My middle name, Markov. Do you think you can remember that?” She nods again. What a good girl. Flash nods in agreeance. “You will use this name only when you’ve reached your limit or if you need a break. Everything can stop with just this word.”

Marcus asked, holding out a tray. Tonight’s mask was different. It wasn't the clinical filigree I wore in the office. This one was crafted from white gold and encrusted with tiny, raw diamonds that shimmered like frozen tears. It covered the upper half of my face, leaving my lips—painted a defiant, lethal crimson—exposed. "Tonight, we don't hide, Marcus," I whispered, watching my reflection. "Tonight, we remind them that the shadows always return to claim what is theirs."

On her feet sat soft-soled tabi boots with segmented soles for near-silent movement, reinforced at the ball and heel for spurts of speed, and Knee-high gaiters strapped with fold-away grappling hooks for scaled walls or rapid retreats. A lightweight half-mask of lacquered steel and leather, covering nose and mouth; built-in carbon filter neutralises toxic fumes. The mask’s surface bears a subtle crimson blossom motif - her personal emblem, visible only when moonlight strikes it just right. Alec had to blink a few times. He was certain this woman with flaming carmine hair and apple green eyes was his mother, even beyond the mask. However, she ignored him and walked right up to Artemis. The wa

I stepped back and let Mark in the front. Just as I was about to walk after him, Mark shouted. He covered the face of the intruder, it was a man. Both of them fought each other, I couldn't see the face of the intruder because he had on a black mask. My hands shook, as I gave a sign for Tina and Misan to come out. Thank God that mark was stronger, he pinned the mask guy to the ground. The guy struggled to release himself, but to no avail. “Who are you?” I yelled.

Markum asks tenderly to my look. “No, I’m fine. Please continue,” I say evenly and straighten up, regaining my composure. Next, he shows me how to use the mace. It’s easy but oddly shaped for quick action—opening, closing, and spraying. “Boss-man, if you would,” Markum motions to the safety table. The cute nickname makes me smile as Damien gets ready in a helmet with a full shield and goggles underneath. He adds a strap around his neck to secure it all. Looking odd, but he stands ready, and I know where this is going.

“Only a message. And a memory.” He removed something from beneath his cloak and extended it toward me. I did not step forward to take it. Alex reached for it instead, but Varin shook his head once. “It must be her hands.” Nova’s fingers twitched toward her blade. I could feel the pack holding its collective breath. I stepped forward, slow and steady, and accepted the item from his hand. It was a strip of cured hide—wolfskin, old and fragile, inked with a symbol I had never seen before. A circle, surrounded by eight slashes. And at its center, a mark I recognized from my mother’s talisman.