Sheep Mask Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

Her stomach growled, but she pushed it away, curling up into a tight ball instead. She whispered to herself in the dark. “I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go…home. Mama…Papa.” Later, although she didn’t know how much, the door opened again. This time, the presence that entered made every hair on her body stand on end. The others bowed their heads as a taller figure strode inside. Their robe was darker, embroidered with red threads that shimmered faintly like little fire bugs. Their mask was different too, and shaped like the full face of a wolf, its mouth open in a permanent, scary snarl.

The hall filled with their voices, excitement, curiosity, tension, all merging together. When my turn came, the wolf in front of me bowed and handed me my mask. A wolf. The fur on it was soft, eerily soft, and when my fingers brushed against it, it almost felt alive. “So, our identity is this mask,” Phina murmured in my mind, thoughtful. I pressed my lips together, examining it closely. Each of us had been given an animal mask, a new identity to hide behind, and we were supposed to save the crown from the eagle. But who got the eagle mask?

“I like that he makes you happy.” “Me too,” I whisper. Too happy for words to adequately describe. Her fingers brush my jaw, she runs a thumb over my lips. I tense. “Do you like girls?” “No,” she replies. The space between us vanishes. Her knee presses to mine and I curl against the railing. This is getting awkward real fast. “Why?” “You’re looking at me strange.” She backs away. “You’re a sheep.” “Meh,” I sing, mimicking a sheep to mask my relief at the distance she creates. “Meh. Meh.”

Images flashed in my head— Clara smiling wickedly, Edmund ignoring my cries, the soldiers dragging me, my child’s lifeless body— I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking the memories away. My wolf’s voice softened. AT LEAST YOU WILL BE MASKED. “It’s not enough,” I breathed. THEN STAY CLOSE TO HIM, she urged. HE'S THE ONLY ONE THERE WHO WON’T BETRAY YOU. I didn’t want that to be true. But right now… it was. My fingers trembled as I lifted the golden mask. It was beautiful and heavy. Like wearing a new identity.

Chapter Three – Masquerade Mastery The ballroom transformed into a realm of shadows and silk as the early morning hours approached, the chandeliers dimming, their light a soft halo over the crimson velvet alcove where we lay entwined. My body was a map of their desire—bruises on my hips and thighs, bite marks on my breasts, cum and sweat coating my skin—yet the hunger within me burned, a primal need fueled by the Masquerade’s unrelenting passion. The five women loomed over me, their masks still in place, breaths heavy, pussies glistening with arousal, eyes locked on mine with a fierce mastery, ready to culminate the night in a final act of dominance. The air thrummed with the energy of our s

She clasped my hands, rolling them before opening it wide as she stared into my palm. “Hmmm,” she nodded to herself, her head moving even closer to my palm. She suddenly turned to stare at me. “Everything is all in your hands. You’re the one to control the fates and what happens next. But be cautious of those you surround yourself with. For beneath the sheep’s clothing, they’re wolves hidden.”

Taking a soothing breath, I looked closer; pushing the fear that had began to surface back into the far corners of my mind, my smile appearing flawless; my eyes showing no feeling. Derrick spoke slowly, a flawless smile of his own appearing in the corners of his mouth; the man I knew as my guardian slowly reappearing behind the strange darkness, the evil that I couldn’t explain. His tone appearing light and pleasant, “Now Sanctus, we must leave to see your father soon, please; continue with drying your hair.”

“Shama, come back to your sense. Doing this won’t bring any good. Your brother won’t come back. The truth won’t change into lies. Start a new life, Shama.” He said as he tried to calm Shama down. Shama again moved her sword towards him. The sword was just a centimetre away from his face. His mask tore off and fell to the ground revealing his face to Shama. At the very first sight of him, Shama stood there frozen. Tear dropped down from her eyes as her eyes switched emotions. “Ansh?”

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

The one who showed me kindness when no one else would. The prince! I turn away, my skirt catching on the stones as I hurry back toward the cellar. I need the mask. My footsteps echo against stone. I reach for the mask that made me feel beautiful and alive. Slowly, I press it against my face and tie the ribbons tight behind my head. The mask still fits perfectly. I step back outside where Lazlo and Mireth are waiting. Their expressions freeze in stunned disbelief. Nearby, Ferna and Nimera stand close, their faces the most unpleasantly shocked of all—hard, cold, and unwilling to accept what they see.