MASQUERADE OF SHADOW

The invitation came unexpectedly.

A black envelope, thick and smooth like velvet, slid under Bella’s door without a sound. No name. No sender. No seal.

Only a single gold-embossed card inside, with six simple words:

*“Raven Hall. Midnight. Masks are not optional.”*

Bella held the card between her fingers, staring at it like it might bite. It didn’t feel like an invite—it felt like a *summons.*

A message from the one man she couldn’t stop thinking about.

*The man with the wolf eyes.*

She didn’t ask her mother.

Didn’t mention the card.

She just knew—this wasn’t for Scouty.

*It was for her.*

That night, Scouty left the house first.

Dressed in black velvet, lips red like blood.

“Just business,” she said casually, grabbing her keys. “Don’t wait up.”

Bella waited exactly 10 minutes, then began getting ready.

Not like herself.

Like someone else. Someone... *dangerous.*

She wore a wine-red gown, the fabric clinging to her like it had been stitched from secrets.

Her lips were painted deep crimson, her eyes lined in bold black.

And over her face—a lace mask, delicate but haunting. Feminine… yet sharp.

She didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror.

And maybe, for tonight, that was the point.

*Raven Hall* wasn’t just a building. It was a legend—an abandoned theatre turned underground venue, known only to those who dealt in shadows.

The moment she stepped through the grand arched doors, Bella felt it in her bones.

This was *not a party.*

This was a performance—one where the masks weren’t just for fashion.

They were protection.

Power.

Camouflage.

The chandeliers above glowed dimly, casting golden light over dark corners.

The music was soft, elegant, and strangely haunting.

All around her, men in tailored suits and women in silk gowns moved like dancers in a dream—smiling, watching, whispering.

Bella walked slowly, taking it all in.

She didn’t belong here.

But somehow… she didn’t feel like an outsider either.

And then—she felt it.

That *stare.*

The kind that burns down your spine before you even find the eyes behind it.

She turned slowly.

There he was.

Across the room.

Still. Tall. Silent.

Dressed in a black suit, no tie. His mask was black and gold—elegant, sharp, and somehow more intense than any bare face.

He didn’t move.

He just watched her. Like he’d been waiting.

Like this moment was exactly as he’d planned.

And Bella?

She couldn’t look away.

He was still watching her.

Unmoving. Unapologetic.

The crowd swirled between them—glasses clinking, silk brushing past silk, hushed laughter echoing against the grand walls of Raven Hall.

But Bella didn’t see any of it.

Just him.

He stood tall and composed, the golden edges of his mask catching the candlelight. His presence wasn’t loud. It was controlled. *Contained power*, like a predator too patient to pounce.

And then—he moved.

One step.

Two.

Each stride slow and deliberate, cutting through the crowd like shadows parting for him.

Bella’s breath hitched.

Her heart didn’t race—it pounded.

She forced herself to hold her ground.

He stopped in front of her.

Close. Too close.

His scent was clean smoke and expensive danger. His eyes, behind the mask, dark and unreadable.

*Him (quietly):*

*“I thought you’d stay hidden longer.”*

His voice was deeper than she remembered. Smooth, calm—*but laced with warning.*

*Bella:*

*“And yet, here I am.”*

He tilted his head slightly, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

*Him:*

*“Curiosity?”*

*Bella (firm):*

*“Control.”*

He chuckled once, dark and quiet.

*Him:*

*“Is that what you think this is?”*

*“You walk into a hall built by wolves wearing a silk mask and think you’re in control?”*

She didn't flinch.

Didn’t look away.

But her voice dipped lower.

*Bella:*

*“Maybe I just want to see which wolf bites first.”*

A beat of silence passed.

Then, slowly, he stepped closer. Not touching her—but his presence pressed in, like a wall she couldn’t see but could *feel*. The air thickened.

*Him:*

*“You’re reckless.”*

*Bella:*

*“You’re predictable.”*

Another smile. But this time… colder. Darker.

*Him:*

*“Predictable?”*

*“You followed me into a place you don’t understand, for reasons you can’t name. And yet, you think you're the one watching?”*

He leaned in, his lips close to her ear. His voice dropped lower.

*Him (whisper):*

*“You're not watching the game, Bella.

You're already on the board.”*

She swallowed hard.

He pulled back, slowly, letting his words sit in the silence between them like fire. Bella lifted her chin, meeting his gaze.

*Bella (softly):*

*“Then make your move.”*

He studied her for a moment—like a man choosing between possession and patience.

Then he reached out, fingers brushing lightly under her chin—lifting it.

*Him:* *“Not yet.

First, I want to see how much fire you really have…

Before I decide whether to extinguish it.”*

And then, just like before, he turned and walked away.

Leaving her standing alone in the sea of strangers.

Breathless. Speechless. Burning.

But this time—he didn’t disappear.

He was still watching.

Still waiting.

*And now, she was the one burning for more.*

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***