Taming the Beast: 2. The First Unmasking

Elodie's POV

I woke to darkness and silence.

The sheets were tangled around my legs, still hot with the scent of sweat, smoke, and sex. My body hummed with bruised pleasure, the ache between my thighs an echo of the night before. Every time I shifted, I could feel him again—Ciaran, heavy and unyielding, driving me deeper into a place I hadn’t known I could fall.

But now, the bed was empty.

I pushed up on one elbow, blinking into the dark. The curtains were drawn, the city lights bleeding faintly at the edges, but the suite was deserted. Then my gaze caught on the nightstand.

The mask.

Cold steel glinted in the dim glow. For the first time since I’d met him, it wasn’t on his face.

I froze. That mask was more than metal—it was his armor, his control, his weapon. He never removed it in front of anyone. To see it lying there, abandoned, was like finding a loaded gun left unattended.

My hand trembled as I reached for it, fi