Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia) novel Chapter 209

<Chapter 209 The Black Masquerade

Chapter 209 The Black Masquerade

Author’s pov

+25 Points

Sebastian sat at the dining table, pushing aside the remnants of his dinner–half a steak gone cold, a glass of untouched cabernet.

The call with Cassian had been dragging on for nearly twenty minutes, but his mind was

elsewhere.

“Sebastian? Are you even listening to me?” Cassian’s voice crackled through the speaker, sharp with irritation.

“Sebastian!” Cassian snapped again, more insistent this time.

“I’m here,” he replied, rubbing his temple.

But he wasn’t. Not really.

Something was off.

A memory nagged at him.

The name “Dahlia” had triggered something–a connection he couldn’t quite place.

Then it hit him.

A few days ago, while reviewing intelligence reports on the Moonveil Ascendancy, he’d seen her name buried in a footnote.

At the time, he’d been preoccupied with another crisis and hadn’t flagged it.

Mrs.Dahlia. Socialite. Political fixer. Occult affiliations flagged but unconfirmed.

And tonight, she was hosting a masquerade at a location off his radar. A masquerade Cecilia

had been invited to.

“Cassian, something’s come up. I need to go,” he said abruptly, already reaching for his phone.

“What? We haven’t even–”

Sebastian ended the call without ceremony and rose from his chair.

The legs of the chair scraped against the marble with a sharp screech, echoing in the quiet

apartment.

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< Chapter 209 The Black Masquerade

Inside him, Soren stirred-restless, razor-edged, sniffing danger like a bloodhound.

+25 Points

He dialed Cecilia’s number as he strode toward the elevator, his movements fluid and precise.

No answer. Straight to voicemail.

He tried again. Still nothing.

His thumb hovered over the screen for a heartbeat too long.

Then he tried Tang.

“Yes, Alpha?” Tang answered instantly.

“Go into the ballroom. Look for anything out of place,” Sebastian said, his voice dropping into the low, clipped register he reserved for Pack command.

“I can’t reach Cecilia.”

Tang, who’d been half-asleep in the car scrolling through memes, sat up like he’d been electrocuted.

The phone nearly slipped from his hand.

“On it. Going in now.”

“Send me the address.”

“Right away.”

As the elevator descended, Sebastian studied the pin Tang had just dropped.

With a few swipes, he pulled up a dossier on the venue-a historic mansion turned private club, normally used for political fundraisers and old-money galas.

His wolf paced inside him.*Mate. Danger. Find her.*

Sebastian clenched his jaw.

His fingers twitched at his sides, knuckles whitening, but his voice remained steady.

“I know,” he murmured to Soren. “We will.”

The elevator pinged. The doors slid open.

He stepped out into the parking garage, the scent of motor oil and concrete hitting him like a

wall.

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Chapte 204 The Black Masquerade

$25 Points

His car-a matte black Jaguar F-PACE-unlocked before he even reached for the handle. He slid into the seat, engine roaring to life beneath his palm.

Then he requested the guest list and security staff roster.

His wolf snarled at the last one.

Sebastian didn’t blink. No time for fear. No room for doubt.

He shifted the car into gear.

“Hold on, Cece,” he muttered. “I’m coming.”

Inside the ballroom, the sudden darkness gave way to a single dramatic spotlight.

Guests who weren’t in the loop whispered eagerly, assuming it was all part of the night’s

entertainment.

“Oh, this should be fun!” a woman nearby squealed, clutching her champagne flute like it was

front-row access to the Met Gala.

But the woman in the black mask wasn’t here to entertain.

She was here to make her move–and someone in this room was her target.

Luna Regina sat frozen in her seat, her fingers trembling as they tapped frantically at her phone.

No signal.

She turned to the woman beside her, desperation flickering even through the ornate mask.

“May I borrow your phone? Mine seems to be–”

“Of course, dear,” the woman said, handing it over without looking up.

Luna Regina’s shoulders sagged as she stared at the screen. Same message: No Service.

Her throat tightened. Her pulse roared in her ears like static.

She tried toggling airplane mode, rebooting, anything–but the screen remained stubbornly

blank, the signal icon a taunting zero.

She wasn’t just cut off. She was trapped.

“How strange,” she murmured. “Does this happen often here?”

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s Chapter 209 The Black Masquerade

The woman shrugged, completely unfazed.

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