The mask felt strange against my skin, pressing lightly across the bridge of my nose, making me aware of every breath I took. The soft velvet ribbon tied snug at the back of my head held it in place, hiding my face but leaving my lips and eyes free to speak a different kind of truth. Everyone was masked tonight. That was the rule.
I’d heard whispers about this place for months. The mansion on the hill—only accessible by invitation—where identities were stripped away, and all that remained were bodies and hunger. I never thought I’d be brave enough to accept. But here I was, dressed in black lace, my cleavage peeking through the deep cut of my dress, stockings hugging my thighs, a sheen of nervous sweat running along my back.
Inside, the ballroom glowed in golden candlelight. Shadows danc
