The Mask of Eternal Dawn

The Mask of Eternal Dawn

Shãdøw Bøøks

5.0
Comment(s)
4
View
11
Chapters

In a kingdom where nobles wear enchanted masks that define their roles and status, the protagonist-a commoner with the rare ability to craft living masks-becomes entangled in palace intrigue when they are commissioned to create a mask for a reclusive prince cursed never to see sunlight. As the protagonist works on the mask, they uncover a hidden world of magic, betrayal, and a growing bond with the prince. Their love becomes the key to breaking the curse, but doing so could destabilize the entire kingdom. Together, they must navigate a treacherous path where one wrong move could mean losing not just their love, but their lives.

Chapter 1 The Curse Unveiled

The sun was setting over the kingdom of Veloria, casting a warm, amber glow over the royal gardens. Lyra knelt among the delicate petals of the moonlit roses, her fingers brushing lightly over the soft blooms. The evening air was filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and the earthy fragrance of the garden's hidden treasures. It was here, in this secluded place, that Lyra felt most at peace-where time seemed to pause, and the world outside the walls of the castle faded into the distance.

Lyra was the castle's healer, though most of her work was confined to tending the plants and flowers that flourished under her care. There was something magical about these gardens-something that had always felt more alive than the rest of the kingdom. The roses, in particular, were said to have healing properties, their petals capable of soothing even the most broken of spirits.

As she worked, her mind wandered to the stories she had heard since childhood-stories about Prince Caelan, the cursed heir to the throne. The tale was well-known across the kingdom, whispered from servant to servant, from mother to child. It was said that the prince had been cursed by a vengeful sorcerer, doomed to live a life in torment. By day, he was a statue of stone, motionless, trapped in the form of an inanimate figure. Only by night, when the stars rose high above the castle, did he regain his human form. But even then, his curse lingered, for he was bound to wear an enchanted mask, hiding his face from the world.

Lyra had never seen the prince herself, only heard the rumors-the darkened tales of his isolation and sorrow. Some said he was a monster. Others claimed he was a victim of a cruel fate. But Lyra couldn't help but feel a flicker of compassion for him. What must it be like to live a life so separated from others, to never know the warmth of another's touch?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel path. She stood up and turned, seeing one of the castle servants approaching her with an air of urgency.

"The royal banquet is to begin soon, Mistress Lyra," the servant said, her voice laced with nervousness. "The prince will be in attendance tonight. It's... it's his rare appearance."

Lyra's heart skipped a beat. Tonight. She had heard of these gatherings-the few times a year when Prince Caelan was allowed to leave his chambers, when he made an appearance before the court. But despite the excitement that surrounded his rare visits, there was always an underlying tension. The prince never spoke. He never removed his mask. It was said that the mask was a reminder of the curse, an object of both power and torment.

"I see," Lyra murmured, her gaze drifting back to the moonlit garden. Her mind raced. Perhaps tonight she would finally understand the prince's curse. Perhaps, for the first time, she would see the man behind the mask.

Later that evening, the grand hall was alive with the hum of conversation and the clinking of silver goblets. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the sweet aroma of roasted meats. Lyra stood by the far corner, unnoticed amidst the nobility, her dark dress blending into the shadows. She had no desire to mingle with the courtly crowd-her heart was focused elsewhere, on the figure who had just entered the room.

Prince Caelan stood at the entrance of the hall, his presence commanding the attention of all who saw him. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and regal, with an air of quiet strength that seemed to radiate from him despite the mask that obscured his features. The mask was a work of exquisite craftsmanship-its golden surface gleaming in the candlelight, intricate patterns etched across it, as though it held secrets within its design. It was said that the mask was enchanted, not just a symbol of his curse but a means of controlling the magic that kept him alive.

Lyra's breath caught in her throat as she watched him. His eyes-hidden behind the mask-seemed distant, haunted. He moved through the room with an eerie grace, but there was something about his presence that felt out of place. As if he were a stranger in his own skin.

She couldn't look away.

Prince Caelan paused before the royal dais, where his parents, the king and queen, sat in their regal seats. His mother's eyes were filled with sorrow as she regarded him, her hands clasped tightly together. His father, the king, gave a curt nod, though his expression was unreadable. The prince made no attempt to acknowledge either of them. Instead, he turned and began to make his way toward the center of the hall, his movements stiff and mechanical.

Lyra's heart ached at the sight. She knew the stories-knew that the prince could never remove the mask, never show his true face. But standing there in the dim light, she saw something more: a man imprisoned by his own curse, a soul lost in the shadow of a terrible fate.

As he passed close to her, Lyra's breath caught in her throat. She glanced at him, her gaze lingering just a moment too long. And in that fleeting instant, she saw something flicker behind the mask-something raw, something human. It was a look of such deep, unspoken pain that it left her breathless.

For a moment, time stood still.

Later that night, as the banquet wore on, Lyra found herself restless. She excused herself from the hall, retreating to the quiet solitude of the garden. The cool night air felt like a balm against her flushed skin, and she inhaled deeply, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind.

What had she seen in his eyes? What had the prince felt in that moment?

And what could she possibly do to help him?

As she walked through the moonlit garden, her eyes were drawn to a small, intricately carved box nestled among the roots of the ancient oak tree. It was a relic she had seen before-an artifact passed down through the royal family, a symbol of the prince's curse. She knelt down, her fingers tracing the smooth wood. The box contained a mask, one of many enchanted items connected to the prince's fate.

Her heart pounded as a sudden thought struck her. Could this mask hold the key to breaking the curse? Could the artifact she had found in the garden be the one thing that could set Caelan free?

With a sense of purpose she had never felt before, Lyra rose to her feet, clutching the mask tightly. There was only one way to find out.

Continue Reading

Other books by Shãdøw Bøøks

More

You'll also like

Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle

Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle

G~Aden
4.2

I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body. My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in. I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then- I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses. Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down- He's still hard. Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance. "You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless. "I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake. "Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat. And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm. "Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. *** Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge. She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez. He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her. What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated. Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty? And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book