Page 82 of Villainous Rise

I reached up, my fingers trembling as they found the edge of his mask. I expected him to stop me, to grab my wrist, to pull away, but he didn’t move.

No! My brain screamed, even as my fingers curled around the edge.

“Do it,” he challenged, his voice rough. “Take it off.”

My pulse raced as I pulled the mask away, revealing his face inch by inch. The Keeper in me screamed in horror—I’d just unmasked a villain in public. Even if no one was around, even if we were alone on this digital walkway, I’d broken the most sacred rule.

But I couldn’t look away.

His eyes blazed with something wild and dangerous. His hair stuck out in all directions where I’d pulled it. He looked untamed, like he was barely contained in human form.

“There you are,” I breathed, the mask dangling from my fingers.

He didn’t give me time to think. His mouth was back against mine, harder this time, hungrier. No mask between us now, nothing to hide behind. Just his skin against mine.

“Fight me if you need to,” he growled against my lips. “Fight me. Hate me. I don’t care.”

His fingers dug into my flesh hard enough to leave marks.

“I’ll give you everything, Annie. Everything you’re too afraid to ask for.”

My body arched into his touch, even as my mind reeled. This was wrong. This was⁠—

“Tell me to stop,” he challenged, his breath hot against my ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

The words wouldn’t come. Couldn’t come. Because they’d be lies, and I was tired of lying.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

His smile was savage and triumphant. “I know.”

I froze as Cipher reached down and detached something from his suit. My mask. The one he’d made for me when I’d played his companion, his plaything. The mask that had let me hide who I was while discovering parts of myself I’d never acknowledged.

“What are you⁠—”

He didn’t let me finish. He placed it over my face, his fingers tracing the contours as he positioned it perfectly. The familiar weight settled against my skin like coming home.

The world immediately shifted, narrowing to just us. With the mask on, I wasn’t Annie Bishop, Keeper. I wasn’t Havoc’s ward or the Alliance’s puppet.

I was just me.

“What’s the mask for?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

His thumb traced the edge of the mask where it met my cheekbone. “I told you I’d give you what you need. And what you need, Annie, is to let go for a while.”

I swallowed hard. He was right and I hated him for knowing me so well.

“The Alliance, the rules, Valor, Havoc—they’re all still out there.” He gestured toward the sprawling neon city beyond our private cosmos. “But with this on, none of that exists.”

My fingers trembled as they touched the smooth surface of the mask. It felt like armor and freedom all at once.

“Let me give this to you, Annie.” His voice softened just slightly, though the intensity remained. “Let me give you the one thing no one else can—permission to stop being perfect.”

I closed my eyes, feeling tears threaten again. How did he always know exactly where I was most vulnerable?

“You don’t have to be anything but mine,” he whispered.

“I want to hate you,” I confessed. The mask felt like a shield, giving me permission to speak the truth. “I’ve tried so hard to hate you.”