Red Hood Domino Mask Novels & Stories

Pockmark Mask now. ***

He reached up, covering her small hand on his cheek with his own massive palm, leaning his face into her warm touch. You were never a pawn to me, Nora, he whispered, his voice dropping to a gravelly rasp. Not from the moment you looked past my obsidian mask and saw the monster beneath it without flinching. With slow, deliberate movements, Dominic unclasped the iron shoulder guards of his armor, letting the heavy steel plates crash to the granite floor with a loud metallic ring. He unbuckled his breastplate and dropped it aside, standing before her in only his plain, dark linen tunic—stripped of his warlord regalia, stripped of his titles, standing merely as a man before the woman who had sav

"Just… go get me my favorite breakfast. I'll be downstairs in a bit." She smiled wearily at me again. "Okay. Take your time." After she'd left, I limped into the kitchen mirror. Same brown eyes. Same long black hair. Same bloody curves. "Still the same old Selene," I said to myself, exhaling. "Oh goddess do something." I opened my closet and started stuffing my backpack with nothing but tomboy attire. Hoodies. Loose shirts. Loose jeans. If I was going to pull this off, I had to look like a boy. I could just get the rest from Liam anyways.

If we came across Adonis, then I wouldn't want him to follow me to my home and jeopardise my safety. Cole picked another picture from the back of his file and pointed his finger at the man standing beside Domenico, his face covered with a black surgical mask. He wore a casual white shirt over his rugged body, the long sleeves of which were folded, revealing a tattoo on his arm—a skull on a pile of dried roses, a crown of thorns on its head, blood trickling down the sides of its forehead. “That’s Vitale?” I asked, with my eyes wide at Cole.

It was the smell of a grave that had been opened by force. "He is here " I said, holding my throat as the mark on my hand started to burn with a beat. "Who?" Ronan asked, his wolf coming out his fur standing up under his leather shirt. "Dominic." The big doors of the room did not just open. They were torn apart. A figure came into the light. He did not look like a human. Dominic was tall his arms and legs were long. Covered with a grey and rough skin that absorbed the light. His eyes were not human. They were red and glowing and where his heart should have been a sharp piece of metal was beating with a purple light.

Familiar, almost. It hit me like a freight train. The tattoo. Peeking out from under his collar—a small, intricate raven on his collarbone. I’d seen that exact ink in one of Dominic’s videos, the one where he fucked a co-ed lookalike against a bookshelf, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded her relentlessly. My breath caught. No. It couldn’t be.

Dominick was trying hard to search for that woman all over the city. After catching her scent, he knew that it was a hybrid. “I don’t understand why you want the footage of that cafe but here it is.” Paxton handed the tablet as Dominick searched it. He played the footage as he couldn’t determine the face. She’s wearing a cap over the hood and a facemask. She looked frail but the moment she disappeared in an alley only meant that she was not that frail at all.

Was this how he would convince me to work with him? Another figure, tall and dark, appeared to my left, and I strained against the strap around my forehead. It was Dominic. My heart swelled to see him, here to save me and take me out of here. How I ever doubted his loyalty to me, I could not imagine now. Then he raised one arm, and in his hand was a face mask. His face was like a piece of slate with no expression, his eyes like pitch and focused on his task. I opened my mouth to scream, but the words were lost as he brought the mask down over my face.

The air in the Land Rover was so thick with unspoken garbage that I actually rolled down the window just to breathe. Dominic was back in his "Titan of Industry" costume. Dark suit, jaw set like a marble ledge, and eyes that didn't see anything except the road and whatever corporate war he was currently winning in his head.

It’s a lie, a beautiful mask he wears for the world. Ava hops off the desk, her heels clicking cheerfully across the marble. She offers Rhea a final, oblivious wave. "Bye, Rhea! Don't let him work you too hard!" The heavy oak doors swing shut. Click. The sound of the lock engaging is the loudest thing in the room. The mask doesn't just slip from Dominic’s face; it disintegrates. The "gentle" man who just spoke to Ava is gone, replaced by the predator who owns the four walls of this office.