Title: An Ivory Fox Mask

Author: Sita Bethel

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/25/2025

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 78200

Genre: Fantasy, dark, magic/magic-users, mythical creatures, witches, sorcerers, royalty, knights, plague, enemies to lovers, slow burn romance

Add to Goodreads

Description

After a monster attack to the capital city, Citadel, Sir Liam Bord seeks the witch responsible to bring him to the king for his trial and his punishment. Liam succeeds in capturing the witch, Reynald, a former royal mage whom Liam knew as a squire. Despite his attempts at treating Reynald as a prisoner, as Liam begins to understand Reynald’s motives, he can’t help but question the very system he’s always supported. The way his heart races every time they’re near each other only further complicates his mission…

An Ivory Fox Mask
Sita Bethel © 2025
All Rights Reserved

The thud of Liam’s footsteps against the floor pounded in his ears as he sprinted toward the witch. At least seven guards, two of them men from his personal company, lay scattered around the witch’s feet. The hood and mask hid the sorcerer’s eyes from view, but the fox mask and ivory couldn’t be coincidences.

“How dare you!” Liam raised his fist, ready to punch the mask off the witch’s face.

The witch raised his hand, and a blast of magenta fire spiraled toward Liam. Raising his shield, the flames disappeared in a cloud of smoke after crashing against the scales.

“Dragon scales. How could I forget?” The sorcerer snorted. “Then chase me, Stallion of Citadel!”

With a carefree laugh, the sorcerer spun in a circle before skipping down the hallway. He zigzagged through the halls, circling behind ceramic vases and lacquered walnut end tables. The witch reached out, grabbing a support pillar and swinging in a circle. As he faced Liam, he shot another burst of flame toward Liam, who ducked behind his shield, blocking the fire.

“Do you remember this game, good knight? During the harvest masquerade when you were a squire? You snuck away from the party and played with a lowly slave.” The sorcerer danced more than ran, weaving between statues and art exhibits.

“Why are you doing this?” Liam shouted. His armor was light, but he’d ridden all the way from the Royal Wood, and he was stiff and clumsy as he chased the witch.

“Why? Why? Surely you know why!” His voice rose to a high, angry pitch.

“No, I don’t.” Liam spoke in earnest.

“Are you truly so stupid?” The witch spat.

“Nothing could justify slaughtering unicorns! They’re innocent creatures! They heal the injured and keep the land fertile!”

“Whose land?” The witch continued to wear Liam down by running in circles. “Siegfried’s land? His personal little playground to chase stags while his people’s hunting grounds are cleared for quick gold?”

“Don’t you dare call the king by name!” Liam threw his entire body toward the witch, reaching to capture him.

He missed and crashed into a vase as tall as he was. The ceramic shattered into plate-sized pieces as he tumbled to the floor. Liam groaned, holding a tear in his pants where a shard slashed through the leather and grazed his skin. He moved his hand to check the laceration. It was bleeding but was not so deep he couldn’t stagger to his feet. Before he regained his bearings, however, the witch slammed him against the wall. Liam sucked in a breath. They were too close. The scent of bergamot surrounded him, and he could see the witch’s enchanting dual-colored eyes through the holes in the fox mask.

“Or what? What will you do if I call your precious liege by his filthy fucking name?” the witch growled, still pressed against Liam.

Liam reached out to shove him back, but he grabbed Liam’s wrist and slammed it over his head. He could have headbutted the stranger, or kneed him in the groin, or twisted out of his grip, but Liam’s body ached, and he was struggling to catch his breath.

“Why are you here?” Liam asked, trying to distract the witch long enough to recover.

“Good question. Why? Before I answer you, let’s play hide and seek. Somewhere in the castle is a secret room filled with secret treasures. Find the chamber, and you find me.” The witch fingered the slit in Liam’s leg.

Liam winced in pain, his body flushed from the heat of battle. The witch’s fingers lingered a little too long as he examined the injury, and all Liam could do was squirm beneath his weight.

“Don’t worry.” The witch chuckled, his mask making the sound distant and muted. “It’s not deep. You’ll be fine. Count to ten, and no cheating.”

The witch covered Liam’s eyes with his palm. Liam blinked when darkness blocked his vision, and his eyelashes tickled against the sorcerer’s hand. He felt the pressure and warmth leave his face, but the world was still black.

One. Two. Three.

 

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Amazon

Hey there, readers. It’s me, ya boi, Sita Bethel. And this is a biography where I tell you all the boring facts about my life- like how I have a degree in writing, and how my two cats, Odin and Anpu, will one day rule this land as your feline overlords. Enough of that same old, same old. Here’s the real dirt. Sita Bethel likes to wrap up like a burrito with a weighted blanket. They host coloring parties as a personal eff-you to anxiety, and read everything from trash British sensationalist novels like The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins to literary masterpieces like The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Had enough of Sita Bethel yet? If not, check out @sita_bethel on Twitter, or sitabethelfiction on Facebook, or even www.sitabethel.com.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!