Novelas y relatos de When His Perfect Mask Shattered, I Awoke

Before the doors closed, he caught my gaze one last time. “Remember who you are, Livy,” he said. “The ‘Perfect Wife’ is the mask. The ‘Warrior’ is the truth. Don’t let the mask become the skin.” I nodded, the burner phone heavy in my pocket—a piece of the “Silent Sanctuary” that I was taking with me into the war. The elevator descended, and as the rusted doors opened to the reality of the alley, I straightened my spine. I took off the wig, tucked the black trench coat into a trash bin, and walked back toward the department store.

He stopped three feet away—close enough to touch, close enough to kill. "Neoma," he whispered. My breath hitched. The sound of my name on his tongue broke something inside me—some dam I had built to hold back the grief of the last month. My chest ached. A physical pressure behind my sternum. "Take it off," I croaked. My voice trembled. "Let me see you." His hand came up. He unclasped the mask. Click. It fell to the ground. Shattering on the stone. Crash.

With a brusque motion, he tore off the black mask that had always hidden his face. It was the first time I had seen the true face of the Cursed Alpha since I arrived here. He always wore that mask, a barrier that separated him from the world. But now, with his eyes fixed on me, the truth was exposed. His skin was marked by dark spots, deep scars, and burns that deformed a part of his face—the marks of the fire I believed had taken his life.

The tears keep coming and I keep letting them fall. I don’t know how long I spend crying. But soon, the tears stop coming. I get to my feet, wipe my eyes, and walk into the ring. I pick my mask up, running my shaky fingers over the smooth surface. In here, I don’t need to be Thorne. I don’t need a mask. I will make sure I never have to wear a mask again. I’ve shed my last tears for my lost love. It’s over now. Burned to ash. Never to be recovered.

Only long enough for my entire body to lock in shock. My breath stops. My stomach drops. My throat closes in disbelief. Because the face beneath that mask is… “No,” I whisper. “It cannot be you.” The mask slides back into place, but the damage is done. I saw him. I know him. And the world inside me shatters.

Chapter 6: Then we’re both already dead. The words sat between us like a loaded gun with the safety off. I stood dripping in the middle of his bedroom, water sliding down my spine, chest still heaving. Damien sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. For the first time, the mask had shattered completely. He looked exhausted. Human. Terrified. I should have felt victorious. This was the crack I’d been waiting for. Instead, shame burned low in my gut, hot and ugly, twisting into something worse — the sick realization that part of me liked seeing him like this. Broken. Needing me.

"So, Mask. Who's your paradise? Rather, who's your paraluman?" END OF FLASHBACK

Maaraw na sa labas habang nagtutulakan na palabas ang mga kasama namin. Binalingan ko ang katabi na si Adamson. He was sleeping soundly and only the window beside him was not opened. Nakapasak sa tenga niya ang isang earphone, ngayon ko lang rin napansin na suot ko ang kabila. Wala na nga lang akong naririnig na tugtog dahil ubos na siguro ang playlist niya. My face heated in embarrassment. Hawak niya sa kamay ang puting headphones na gamit kanina at pinalitan ng earphones marahil para maisali ako! Tinanggal ko iyon at inayos ang pagkakalapag sa nakabuka niya na palad. I shook his body lightly to wake him up.

--- In the bathroom, I turned on the faucet and let the water run until the mirror fogged. Then I leaned over the sink and stared at my reflection. Gold earrings. Red lipstick. Eyes hollow. Just like always. --- But tonight, the cracks were wider. The mask didn’t fit quite right. And for the first time, I didn’t want to wear it anymore. --- I pulled Lucas’s note from my purse. Stared at it for a long time. I didn’t deserve kindness. Didn’t deserve softness. Didn’t deserve peace. But still… I held it like a lifeline.

Mark faded faster in his bed, the mask slipping as the past clawed toward the light. I remained trapped, my screams echoing unanswered through walls that refused to release what they had taken. The original sin had not died. It had simply learned to wait for those brave enough to listen.