Mask Of Deception Novels & Stories

"Just briefly. And I need to find a mask to hide the bruise on my face." In the dressing room, she selected a more elaborate mask than before, one that would better conceal her bruise while still leaving her mouth and jawline exposed. The emerald and gold creation fastened securely, covering from her hairline to the middle of her cheekbones. It wouldn't hide everything, but combined with the dim lighting, it might be enough to avoid immediate questions.

" The corners of his mouth turn upwards as though he is swallowing his own words because he does not want to utter them. “The ones that want you. The ones that want to take you from me.” “Ezra.” “That’s not real.” “That’s not real,” There is a faint smile that crosses his face. "You didn't think the man with the mask was real, did you? But he was," he says. He gets up, and the air moves for him, like a wave. "He is near now," I think. He must be close enough that I can smell the metal on his skin. It has a biting, almost awkward smell that conflicts with the warmth of his body.

Blackmoor Alpha Academy awaited, and I, a male omega masquerading as an alpha, was willingly entering a school filled with the most dominant werewolves in the country. I stared at my reflection. At twenty, I had the build of a beta, lean but muscular enough to pass casual inspection. My dark hair fell just below my ears, and my green eyes—my mother's eyes—stared back at me with a mixture of determination and fear. Nothing about my appearance screamed "omega," but my scent would betray me in an instant without the formula. The formula that had cost my family everything.

But that smile, refined and charming as it was, served a different purpose entirely. Behind that gleaming exterior was a carefully maintained mask. One that concealed not warmth or goodwill, but calculation and something far colder. Theron had long mastered the art of deception, perfecting every gesture until no one could tell what truly lurked behind his gaze. Few, if any, had ever caught a glimpse of what lay beneath.

I hoped with my assurance of safety she would leave but to my greatest dismay, she closed the door behind her and walked in— Inviting herself. I fought to keep the fake smile on my face despite my disgust at her being in my office. "Are you sure you're fine? I heard a loud noise as I was passing by," she said as she kept on moving towards me. "Yes, I'm fine. I just dropped something that's all." I lied. "Okay. I'm glad that's all." Thinking that was all and she would be on her way now, she just stood there. Losing my patience, I said; "You may leave now, Debbie."

With a brusque motion, he tore off the black mask that had always hidden his face. It was the first time I had seen the true face of the Cursed Alpha since I arrived here. He always wore that mask, a barrier that separated him from the world. But now, with his eyes fixed on me, the truth was exposed. His skin was marked by dark spots, deep scars, and burns that deformed a part of his face—the marks of the fire I believed had taken his life.

Dance with the Devil is a song by Immortal Technique that I once heard. After dancing with a rumored devil in the flesh, I don't know why I can still recall these songs. Nicholas is a peculiar and mysterious individual. When I questioned him about our relationship, he replied, "I'll show you." Shortly after, he had my legs spread wide and had his cookie all to himself while I was resting on my back. I keep wondering just what that particular moment meant. Am I just a gullible young woman who just abandoned herself to a stranger? Love is supposedly blind, but I don't believe it to be more blind than I am. If a blind man can accurately play piano notes. I ponder how I can't notice the danger r

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.

Despite the limp, her aura commanded the room. Grant, whom she hadn't scented in years, was as handsome and deceptive as she remembered. He wore a half-mask of dark iron, covering a face that was as fair as a lunar eclipse. His eyes, warm and misleading, were designed to make one forget the throat-slitting deeds he had committed to climb the ranks.

Elowen POV. The leather sofa in VIP Room Three still held the warmth of the last client. I could feel it through the thin crimson silk barely covering my body as I adjusted my position, making sure every angle was perfect. The jeweled mask sat secure against my face, catching the low amber light, hiding everything that mattered while showing everything that didn't. My red hair fell in waves over my bare shoulders. No brown wig or oversized cardigan swallowing my curves tonight. Tonight, I was Nyx, and Nyx didn't hide.