God Of War Ragnarok Mask Novels & Stories

Riona rememberd what he said, how could he be the alpha of the midnight pack when he is the exact opposite of what she had heard of him, she couldn't even hate him after hearing that from him especially since she has seen a soft side to him, one she guessed he had only for his people and her. Just then Riona's felt her hand touch something on her bed, she picked it up and brought it into view. Her mask? She was sure she left it behind, did Lia send it over? It had a note attached to it. For a minute she recalled her confession to Lennox as her hand stroked the mask. "Put it on now and don't take it off, " Riona whispered to herself, reading what was on the note. As instructed Riona put on th

The tall frame in front of her knelt down and harshly cupped her neck, their faces only inches apart and Martina could only cringe. This is the face of a man she has loved for ten years, the face of the man she worshiped more than God himself, the face of the man she always looked up to. Right now, even the devil she heard about in stories was much more approachable than this devil in front of her “Please Hardin” Martina began to beg, “please don’t do this to me” tears were still streaming down her almond shaped eyes, “please!!” “Hardin baby” Melisa called out to him while standing up, she was clad in a red colored dress that exposed part of her cleavage which left Martina wondering where i

Pockmark Mask now. ***

Riordan’s eyes gleamed with hope and stared at Thomas for a long time. To increase Riordan’s confidence in him, Thomas added, “Aside from the identity that I mentioned earlier, I am also the God of War from the west coast, in charge of thousands of troops. I believe I am capable enough to solve your problem.”

She went to the wall where a dozen masks hung on hooks and selected one fashioned to look like a raven, a long cape of black feathers hanging from it. She fit it on my head, and when I looked up, it was to see the sharp beak protruding above my forehead. With ash, she shadowed the skin around my eyes as though I were going to war. Fastening a mask with deer antlers on her head, she said, “We sent a messenger back to Mystic Rune pack after you separated from us. Even now, Vidar will be coming with all haste with the rest of our fighting men to ensure we get back down this mountain alive.”

(Derek's POV) The silver-enhanced ceremonial mask felt heavy in my hands, its weight symbolic of the burden I now carried. I traced my fingers over the gold-trimmed edges, feeling each intricate pack symbol etched into its surface. This mask represented more than just my alter ego—it was freedom from the constraints of being Derek Silverstone, heir to a corrupted pack legacy. Tonight, I would become justice itself. I slipped the mask over my face, feeling the familiar sensation of wolfsbane-infused material against my skin. The ancient symbols I had painted on my neck burned slightly, activating the power-masking enchantment that would prevent other wolves from sensing my true alpha presence

Hidden beneath spare weapons and medical supplies lay a dark cloak and mask that would transform me into someone else entirely—someone who could fight openly against the Rogue forces without compromising my cover. The mask bore no identifying marks, just smooth black material. The cloak was equally nondescript, dark fabric that would blend with shadows while concealing my body shape and movements. The dark fabric settled over my shoulders like a second skin. The mask fit perfectly, reducing my vision to narrow slits but hiding every recognizable feature. Above me, the battle raged. Penelope led the main assault from the western ridge, her red hair bright against the sky. Dominic commanded th

This was where I met him—Ragnar, the rogue I’d fed coins and secrets to for years, my shadow, my blade in the dark. I pushed through the creaking door, my eyes adjusting to the dim light, my heart racing as Ragnar stepped forward, his hulking frame scarred, his yellow eyes gleaming with hunger. Not Darius, the warrior I’d pitched to Marcus, but Ragnar, a rogue so vile even the BloodMoon pack shunned him. He was my secret weapon, loyal only to my gold, my promises. “Veron,” he growled, his voice rough, his claws flexing. “What’s the job?”

I wasn't going to do this until I had the new pack, but I needed my Alpha and I needed it now. My bones all clicked and twisted as I shifted, my self control gone as all I could see was red and I knew I needed to make Link pay for what he had done. I could feel the increase in strength and I could sense of every little thing around me, including the fact Blake was just about still alive.