Royal Mask Novels & Stories

“That rule applies to all but the royal family. Whatever you do, be kind to them.” I gave Nicholas a look, hoping to indicate that I would never be unkind to anyone. He offered a small smile in exchange. He knew that. But he wanted to warn me. I nodded, understanding. Zale continued to speak, “You will know who is of royal blood because only the royals are permitted to wear crowns.” “The larger the crown, the more important the royal,” Nicholas whispered to me. I nodded, grateful for the tip. “Now,” Zale continued. “If you are ready…?”

Prince Raphael asked. "Because it was the Crown Prince's Event your Majesty. And it was his official declaration as the Crown Prince of our Kingdom" My secretary immediately replied. "Have you already seen your official seal as the Crown Prince your Majesty?" Prince Reuz asked. "Yes my official seal was the one which I will be unveiling tomorrow. It was a Dragon wearing a crown." I answered while showing my ring where a replica was placed. I asked why my secretary turned his back at me when I showed the ring.

His eyes were pools of liquid gold, glittering and glowing like the Sun. "And Sierpenti's Dorm Commander, Naval King of Kozen Akademis, First Prince of the Kingdom of Malecoy, His Highness Prince Murien Larimar Samudra." The masked man motioned at the prince on the corner left. He was in a sumptuous azure blue coat, graced with sapphires, lined and threaded with silver. On his neck was a stone blue cravat, bejewelled with an aquamarine brooch. His hands were gloved with black fabric which remained on the side of his black pants, which he slipped under a couple of knee-high boots.

Memory. A crowned man formed from thousands of blue lights. His face remained hidden behind a silver mask. Every ghost dropped to one knee. Astraya bowed her head. The false king turned. For the first time, fear entered its face. The masked king pointed toward Raiken. BLUE BLOOD. Then toward the false king. STOLEN BLOOD. The door shook. The silver crown flew from the false king’s hands and landed at my feet. The royal mark spread across my palm.

Kingston threw an item toward Chase upon hearing this. Chase caught it casually and saw it was a mask as thin as a cicada's wing. "What's this?" Chase asked. "This is a treasure that can conceal your appearance. Once worn, even a martial lord can't discern your true face," Kingston explained. "Forget it. I've already promised Bactria," Chase said and was about to return the mask. However, Kingston shook his hand. "In that case, just forget it. But keep the mask and be careful." Kingston said, leaping into the air and disappearing into the night.

He hadn’t fully understood what that meant until now. Everywhere he looked, the ultra-elite were shedding their daytime restraint. In a shadowed corner near the main salon bar, a statuesque redhead in a feathered gold mask had her back pressed against the wall while a man in a black-on-black suit—Ken recognized him as a prominent hedge fund manager—kissed her throat with open-mouthed hunger. His hand moved under her long dress, fingers working skillfully as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. No one around them batted an eye. This was the Hamptons after dark. At this hidden mask party, the rules dissolved with the champagne.

And for the first time, I really fucking looked at him. Black fur. Pure fucking black. My attention snapped to his eyes. Golden. Bright, unmistakable golden eyes stared back at me. Something inside me went completely still. What the fuck? “Damian.” Bruce had noticed it too. Of course he had. Black fur. Golden eyes. There were characteristics certain bloodlines carried. Traits that could appear throughout generations and occasionally surprise the hell out of everyone. But those two together? No. Black fur and golden eyes belonged to Royal wolves. They were the physical mark of our bloodline.

Inside, nestled on a velvet cushion, lay the Mask of Fortuna. My breath hitched in my throat as I gazed upon it. The mask was an eerie thing of beauty, crafted from polished obsidian that gleamed under the dim light, its surface sleek and reflective. It was as if it had been pulled straight from the depths of some ancient world. Crimson rubies and emerald sapphires adorned it, set delicately in gold filigree, their fiery hues sparkling as I leaned closer. The intricate Roman symbols etched along its edges seemed to pulse with some forgotten power—laurel wreaths and the ever-turning wheel of Fortuna, as if the mask itself held the whims of fate in its design.

“Yes, Alpha.” He sauntered off toward the bathroom for a quick change while she seized the opportunity to gather the masks. The occasion was a masquerade-themed extravaganza, Raymond’s chosen concept. Her fingers danced across the masks’ surfaces, each telling a tale of elegance and charisma. The first mask, resplendent in gold and adorned with rubies, caught her eye. A fleeting glance at her attire reassured her that it harmonized seamlessly with her crimson dress. Next in line was a sleek black mask, its glossy velvet covering exuding an air of mystery.

He asked me. I shook my head. “It’s not important,” I said as I opened the red box. Inside was a beautiful masquerade mask. It was simple and pearl white on the right side. And on the other side, it looked like a butterfly. It was elegant and extravagant at the same time. “Put it on little one.” He said while putting on a mask that matched his black suit. “Thank you, Godric. This is all too nice.” We hugged one last time before dispersing from the small waiting room and into the grand ballroom.