Novel & Cerita Scream Brandon James Mask

Back then, we had agreed that if we were meeting the next night, we would place an acorn in the tree hollow. "It's you!" I grasped Waylon's hand excitedly. "You… You're the boy with the wooden mask!" My voice was barely audible as I spoke. "But why… Why did you never say anything?" "Because I was a coward back then," Waylon replied. His voice was low, as if the weight of a long-buried secret had finally come crashing down. Waylon was the Alpha's heir to the Nocterra pack. He had been strictly trained since childhood, and even sneaking out to see me was a huge risk.

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

I could hear the whimpers of fear as we dominated their land within just a matter of minutes. I didn’t take my strong glare away from James as I sauntered threatingly closer toward him, moving my body into an attack stance as he tried to back away. But he suddenly gasped with fright as he took a step back to far and his back met the muscular and immovable body of Brandon. Brandon dipped his head low enough until he was growling in James’s ear, but James kept his eyes on me, with a pleading look as if I’d save him from the most petrifying one of us.

Brandon asked his fiancée who was busy trying to avoid her bursting into laughter. "Your face! You looked like a ghost!" She laughed again for the second time. He gave her a stern look and she swallowed her laughter immediately. "You barely know anything do you? You should know that this is what I use to keep this face all pretty for you, you dare not insult my skincare routine you forest liver!" He said out loud sarcastically. He was so serious. All Jasmine could do was laugh out loud. "Relax!" She cleared her throat and raised her hands to make an oath. "I promise never to insult any of Sir Brandon's skincare products." She laughed out loud for the second time.

It was like I had been drowning. The evidence lived in the way my eyes still felt sore and puffy, but I could only hope no one noticed. "Very good! Very good!" My shoulder’s squared back when Brandon entered the field more fully. It was the first time I was able to actually get a good look at him. Brandon was tall and handsome; his frame leaner than his alpha’s but just as in shape. He had dirty blonde hair that was tussled upwards on his head, showcasing his strong features, thin brows, and narrow eyes. I could see from where I stood they were a light brown, and I also noticed he had pearly white teeth when he suddenly smiled at me through the throngs of people.

Like she was empty of tears. "The mask was a gift from my mom, someone I thought I lost long before I lost my dad, I survived with an injury on my face that the doctors said would scar me. Everyone hated me after that, for taking away their alpha, for being weak and ugly." Lennox's hand came around her and held her close as she exposed more of herself. "The mask was a way of hiding my face so I don't disgust people but more than that it was what helped me stay close to my parents even when the wound was gone, I couldn't be without the mask."

He sat perfectly still, but every line of his body screamed power. ​He wore a polished silver mask that covered the left half of his face, where the worst injuries were rumored to be. The mask was cracked in one place, giving it a brutal, shattered look. His visible features were sharp: a strong jawline, and one eye deep, icy black that was currently fixed on the patterns in the carpet. He looked like a fallen king, ruined but still terrifying. ​"Anya," my father mumbled, shoving me forward. "Meet Alpha Ronan."

Brandon had one of Jame’s arms pinned behind his back, and he grasped James’ other wrist, the veins on his knuckles bulging even though his expression remained calm. “Let go of me,” James raised his voice, drawing a bit of looks from passersby. …