In the past, the wolf always wore the lamb's mask while the lamb wore his. Wolf represented the lamb, and I represented him. Made by an ordinary artisan, the masks slowly grew in us and absorbed the identities we created whilst hiding behind the mask.
Our masks held power that, if placed in the wrong hands, could be used as another source of deadly power. The reason Niall was after it. He simply possessed the half of my mask; Azazel kept the other half. Daniel, on the other hand, still kept his.
"How did you find it?" I asked as I opened the book he pointed in the bookshelf. As soon as I did, my eyes landed on the broken mask hidden inside the book. It was old and broken, but the fading red swirls I drew on it many years ago were still there.
