Max Prestige Lightskin 소설 & 이야기

You belong to both darkness and light, and you are perceived differently by the denizens of the world. Are you weak? Are you strong? There doesn’t seem to be a consensus on that. {Class Privileges} ~ 10+ Base Stats addition for all your major Stat Areas ~ 1+ subsequent Stat Point for every Level Up ~ Natural Mask Effect can be activated (You can keep a poker face or make your reactions appear exactly as you intend, regardless of circumstances) ~ Naturally suppresses the effects of any ‘Appraisal’ cast on you. (If the Appraisal is weaker than this Effect, you can influence its results)

He stands in front of the mirror completely naked, examining his fangs, which have increased in sharpness, and his body, which has changed slightly in shape, as it has become more dilemma than before, due to his drinking of Lian's blood, so that Peter quickly lowers his head down Peter Quietly: My Prince, His Majesty, is waiting for Your Highness and Princess in the Throne Hall Maximus examines himself: Well, I see, Pete, is the change that has occurred to me evident enough? Peter does not look and still looks down: Congratulations on your new appearance, my prince, and yes, of course, you are visible, you are naked Maxmus gropes his tattoo with a frown: Even the tattoo has changed its shape

Pockmark Mask now. ***

A whole pack of matte-black beasts (Rimac, Pininfarina, and a custom Koenigsegg) crouched low and mean, with underglow pulsing softly, as if they were breathing in sync with the house. Jesus H. Christ. The mansion was one giant slab of smart glass, shifting from mirror to transparent in waves, solar panels humming, LED veins throbbing blue, as if it had a heartbeat. Tech-god vibe? Hell yeah. He killed the engine with a dramatic KABOOM from his mouth, then flashed that stupid-cute, dimpled smirk.

I asked, barely above a whisper. He hesitated, his eyes darting to the timer. I could see his throat move as he swallowed hard. “Answer me,” I said, louder this time. He sighed shakily. “Yes… it’s bad. It’s a Crimson Ultra Charge, my lady. Military grade. One of the deadliest kinds.” My blood ran cold.. “Get me out of here,” I snapped, my voice rising. Blake ran a hand through his hair, scanning the straps and wires. “We have to stay calm…”

“I assure you, Pet, I am far better than Primus.” My eyes begin to adjust and the person before me becomes easier to discern. I was a fool to think that he could be Primus. They have a passing resemblance only as far as build and the cut of their chin, but that is where the resemblance ends. Where Primus has hair as green as the sea, long and flowing, this person has hair that is as white as clouds, bluntly cut just above his skin to create a foglike haze as he moves his head. His skin is golden, not tan, golden as if painted with fine metals and his eyes do not hold any of the warm richness of the earth, instead, they are cold, almost without color or light.

He asked with an uneasiness in his voice. The doctor nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so." "That's unacceptable," Antonio growled, his eyes flashing with fierce determination. "I need her to be flawless, with no scars marring her body, especially not on her stomach. Do you understand? Prescribe whatever scar-reducing medication is available and have her fully recovered within a week. I won't tolerate seeing her like this." "Yes sir, we will do something about that." One of the doctors replied shivering all over.

Defense mechanism: immediate suppression and environmental control. Physical Appearance A. Skin Tone: A breathtaking warm olive with honeyed undertones, an inheritance from his Italian-American heritage. His skin is flawless, often flushed with the heat of a temper he can barely contain or pale with icy detachment. B. Hair: Thick, obsidian-black hair that carries a natural, healthy sheen. He usually keeps it expertly styled—short on the sides and slightly longer on top—but when he’s spiraling or in the heat of a "Red Room" session, he lets it fall over his forehead in a messy, dangerously attractive fringe.

I look up, through my eyelashes and hold my breath to keep in my gasp. This man is light-skinned with chiseled angles across his face. He has dark brown eyes, full lips, and long lashes. When he got out of the car, I was able to see that he’s tall, a few inches taller than Maxim. He’s also bigger than Maxim, muscle-wise. They are both Betas, but I think my mate works out more than Maxim does.

“My apologies, Your Majesty of the Giant Tires.” Max grinned wide, his black bangs falling over part of his forehead, his chubby cheeks still carrying the evidence of a long day and, somehow, a small smudge near his chin that I was certain had not been there five minutes ago. His eyes were bright blue. Too bright. Too familiar. The kind of blue that should have stopped having the right to disturb my nervous system years ago. But then he lifted both little hands as if gripping an imaginary steering wheel and made a highly dramatic screeching-brake sound, and that face became entirely his again.