Chapter 6 – Masquerade of Shadows
709 Words
The invitation arrived wrapped in black velvet, sealed with wax bearing the Crimson sigil.
Luna turned it over in her hand, brows furrowed. She hadn’t expected it. Not this soon. Not like this.
Inside, the message was brief:
“Midnight Masquerade. Tonight. Observe the outsider.
You’ll know who they are.
— L”
No signature was needed. She knew that handwriting.
Lucien.
⸻
The ballroom of the Crimson Coven was nothing short of haunted elegance. Dozens of vampires filled the space, each wearing ornate masks—some carved of bone, others laced with obsidian and glass. The chandeliers above swung gently, their crimson crystal droplets casting bloody reflections across the floor.
Luna entered wearing a black lace mask that matched her dress—a flowing number that shimmered between deep garnet and shadow with every step.
Every vampire in the room felt like a blade pressed to her back.
But she walked like she belonged.
Her pendant lay cold against her chest, as if absorbing the tension.
She didn’t know who the “outsider” was. But she knew eyes would be watching—some curious, some suspicious, and one in particular… calculating.
Lucien.
She felt his presence before she saw him. He stood near the far corner, draped in midnight black, his mask silver and simple. Regal. Dangerous.
Their eyes locked through the crowd.
He tilted his head, just slightly—like a signal.
Luna turned away before it could turn into a conversation.
⸻
She scanned the room methodically, forcing her breath to stay calm. One face. One movement. One misstep. That’s all she needed.
It wasn’t long before someone stood out.
A man by the wine table, masked in plain ivory. Too plain. Too calm. He didn’t interact. Didn’t drink. Didn’t meet anyone’s gaze.
Human?
Maybe. Or maybe something hiding in a human shell.
She approached slowly, careful not to draw attention.
“Enjoying the wine?” she asked, her tone laced with flirtation.
The man looked at her, startled for a moment too long. “It’s… bitter,” he replied awkwardly.
Wrong answer.
Crimson wine wasn’t bitter. It was spiced with sweetness and iron. Only those who didn’t belong wouldn’t know that.
“Must be your palate,” she said, smiling.
But inside, her instincts screamed.
He was the outsider.
And he wasn’t just pretending to be someone he wasn’t—he was afraid.
She was about to say more when a sudden chill swept across her neck.
Selena.
Of course.
The vampiress brushed past Luna with a smirk, her own mask shaped like thorns and feathers.
“Careful who you flirt with, darling,” she whispered. “Some of them bite back.”
Luna didn’t respond. She couldn’t afford to.
She turned back to the man in ivory—but he was gone.
Damn it.
⸻
She slipped through the crowd, scanning the exits. No sign of him. Her heels tapped faster now. She moved past dancers and shadows until—
A hand caught her wrist.
Lucien.
“Come,” he said. “Now.”
No protest. No time.
He led her into one of the side halls, the door closing behind them with a final click.
“Report,” he said.
“He was there,” she answered. “Plain mask. Avoided eye contact. I approached. He panicked. Disappeared.”
Lucien paced for a moment, then stopped. “You were watched. Someone interfered.”
“Selena.”
He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “You’re certain?”
“I’m breathing, aren’t I?”
He allowed himself a flicker of amusement. “You’re getting sharper.”
“You’re still testing me.”
“Of course I am.”
Silence stretched between them. Thick. Electric.
“Was he a threat?” Lucien finally asked.
“Yes,” Luna said. “But not to you. To me.”
Lucien stepped closer. Too close.
“What makes you think that?”
She stared into his eyes. “Because he knew me. Not my name. Not my face. Me.”
He didn’t reply. Not immediately.
But she saw it. That small shift in his posture. The calculation.
Luna stepped back, heart pounding.
Lucien’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Then the game has truly begun.”
- Writer
