Novel & Cerita High Rise Invasion Sniper Mask

My bond with Velia. The wolf inside me roared, pacing the cage of my bones. “Then let them come.” ******** Hacker burst into the room, soaked and trembling, laptop clutched to his chest. “We caught one of their drones intact this time.” He slammed it onto the table. The screen flickered, then stabilized—live feed from somewhere in the forest. Through static and rain, a figure emerged. Tall. Masked. Moving with the grace of a predator that had learned to mimic man. His coat was long, black as sin, and in his hand—

I pulled a sleek, midnight-black carbon fiber mask over the upper half of my face, concealing my identity entirely. Tonight, Malakai Thorne would realize that a new apex predator had entered his territory, and she wasn't asking for reasons anymore.

I screamed, breaking cover and running toward them. I found them in a small clearing. The Hunter was lying on his back. He was dressed in grey tactical camouflage, his face covered by a sleek, full-face mask with glowing green lenses. A high-tech compound bow lay in the dirt nearby. Ashren was straddling him, his good hand clamped around the Hunter’s throat, his other hand raised, claws extended, ready to rip the mask off. "Give me one reason not to open your jugular," Ashren snarled.

The car beeps softly, unlocking. Just as John had described him, dressed in all black complete with a face mask and baseball cap, he is completely hidden behind the thick black dressing. “There he is,” Marsh mutters, eyes narrowing, focusing on his every move. The man slides into the driver’s seat, adjusts the mirror, then sits still for a moment. He exhales. A visible sigh fogs the inside of the windshield briefly. Then, with a brief pause… he reaches up. And removes the mask. Marsh’s hand flies to the keyboard. He slams the space bar and the footage freezes mid frame. The screen blurs for a split second before adjusting and clarifying.

Or was it the eerie way he moved—fluid, confident, yet silent, like a phantom materializing out of the dim glow of the chandeliers? Now that he stood close enough, Evelyn could study the details of his mask. It was an intricate piece, covering his entire face, adorned with black and gold gemstones that glinted under the light. But it was the mouthpiece that truly sent a chill down her spine—carved with sharp, exaggerated teeth, as though mocking the very notion of civility.

I snap back, just as the door swings fully open. The man in front steps inside, holding a cattle prod, its metal tip gleaming ominously. He moves just enough to allow another man to enter, who silently sets a jug of water down on the rickety table before turning to leave. “Wait!” I shout, my voice sharp and urgent. The men pause, glancing back. “We will negotiate. What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my tone calm despite the tension in the air. The man at the front turns his masked face toward me. His expression is hidden, but his posture radiates control. “We want nothing,” he says, his voice distorted, processed through some kind of modulator. It’s deliberate—a calculated move to ensur

Just me, the mask, and the reckless decision that could ruin me. The Uber ride to Eclipse Tower felt endless. The city lights blurred past the window while my mind raced with every filthy possibility. Would there be couples fucking openly? Strangers touching me without a word? Would I let them? My pussy already felt slick, a warm throb building with every bump in the road. When the car pulled up to the private entrance of the glittering skyscraper, a tall man in a tailored black suit and simple silver mask waited. He didn’t speak — just scanned a small device over the invitation card I handed him, then nodded once and led me to a private elevator.

“Non-lethal if possible, boss wants answers!” The struggle was brutal but short. Furniture overturned. A grunt of pain. The intruder was tackled to the ground, zip-ties snapping around his wrists. Elena peeked over the sofa just in time to see the man’s mask ripped off, young, cold eyes, a fresh tattoo on his neck that looked like a Conti mark. One of the guards kicked the man’s weapon away and pressed a knee into his back. “Clear! Perimeter secure. He came up the service elevator, disabled the secondary sensors.”

"I expected that answer." Without warning… The front display window exploded inward. Glass showered across the showroom. Two smoke grenades rolled inside. White smoke filled the front half of the workshop within seconds. "They're moving!" Vivienne shouted. Lucien grabbed Elara's wrist. "Stay behind me." The first masked man emerged through the smoke. Black tactical clothing. Night-vision goggles. Silenced rifle. Before he could raise it… Vivienne fired. The bullet struck his shoulder. He spun backward, crashing into a violin display.

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.