#Chapter 257: The Masquerade
Ava
The Packhouse’s main hall felt like an entirely different world. The flickering candles and braziers cast dancing shadows on the walls, and the air was thick with the scent of spiced wine and perfume. Streamers hung from the ceilings, swaying in the breeze created by the dancing throng.
But most importantly, the low lighting and the sea of masks made it nearly impossible to distinguish one face from another—exactly as we had intended. The entire pack was here tonight, and the room was crowded with warm bodies and swishing dresses.
Perfect for slipping through unnoticed.
Chris and I pushed through the crowd, arm-in-arm, our faces hidden behind two ornate masks. My black dress sparkled in the light, but it was plain enough to not be too noticeable. I had my hair pulled back into a slick style to hide its natural texture, and a matching black mask in the shape of a raven’s beak.
Meanwhile, Chris wore a nondescript black tuxedo and a foxlike mask that cove

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