Crimson Blood Novels & Stories

That’s how we talk here. “I want it stopped.” His eyes finally flicked to me—cold, pale blue, same color as mine but without any warmth left in them. “Quietly. No bodies in the river this time. We’re trying to keep the peace with the Italians until the wedding talks are finalized.” There it was. The wedding.

I apologized. "Sometimes, we refer to breast milk as 'White Blood' because it's from the human body, but only the females," she explained, "It's very fortunate that the breast milk works with your system. You're not physically required blood like other vampires-so it's just a psychological need because you're part of them."

Maybe that was why Marc even had this ceremony done today. "Now the ceremony shall be finalized," the old man said as I watched him bring out what seemed like a red ointment. A finger dipped inside as he marked my forehead with the ointment. A slight drop dripped on my nose. A sniff left a stun. It wasn’t just a colored ointment; from the smell, this was blood. That was something I was sure of. "Stop!" A yell echoed through the room. As I turned to see who it was, Dominic was standing there, beside him was Nate.

A low hum came from her throat before she spoke again. “Innocence. You have taken it.” Her face turned into a satisfied smile before her body straightened. Her eyes grew wide and her lips began to move rapidly, like someone had changed the speed, making her mouth not match up with the words the voices were saying. “Crimson approaches and the redeemer is near. A union of great for all to hear. Crimson approaches , yet again. A guardian will meet their end. Only then can the ash rise. When blood spills, the omnipotent cry will be touched by all. Only then can the emerald truly see.”

Catherine replies. Catherine begins to chant loud, drawing more red inky smoke from the Orb which thickens over the clearing. The color on the faces on the two women beside her drains as she draws power from them to fuel the magic. “Blood magic? Stop her!” Lord Bail screams. The cold ones obey without reservation, throwing themselves into the thick depths of the red inky smoke as they try to reach for the witches. Their screams of pain ring out loud as the magic cause their bodies to rot fast and wither off.

They already turned bright red? My eyes generally turn into a creamy golden color when I have my fill, jet black when I’m starving and I need blood in my system, and sapphire which is my real eye color. My eyes never change into bright red until I’m in a killing machine mode. Vampires' eyes only turn bright red when they lose control over themselves, drink human blood and when they sense their mate near them. Lines of worry form on Dylan’s face as my breathing becomes heavier and the color of my iris is too reluctant to change into my original one.

"Prepare for your new prison, slave." The back door opened, and the witches jumped off the car, making way for four bulky men who lifted the cage with me in it and then carried it out. The rising sun blinded me, and I had to cover my eyes from the light, but as my eyes adjusted to the brightness, my heart stopped. Blood. The ground was painted in a raw-red color that sometimes blended with strokes of dark ashes and black charcoal. Dead bodies of young and old wolves gutted, cut, and ripped to pieces covered every inch of the ground. The four men who carried my cage walked, stomping on the torn flesh of their enemies—the wolves of Crimson Mountain Pack.

A recognition that lived below thought. The woman's eyes opened fully. Crimson. Not human. Deep glowing red lit from somewhere inside, burning steady and old and alive. Tyra stepped back. "Who are you." "You already know," the woman said. Her voice was warm and cracked at the edges like something that had been through fire and come out the other side. She moved forward, each step soundless on the black soil. Her crimson eyes moved over Tyra's face with a desperation that was almost physical. Like someone who had been kept from something for so long that seeing it again hurt. "You have always known."

High Priestess Selene lifted an ancient dagger carved from black crystal and presented it to the king with both hands. “The Crimson Vow requires the blood of the reigning king.” Lucien accepted the dagger without hesitation. Drawing the blade across his palm, he allowed several drops of dark crimson blood to fall onto the center of the altar. The instant his blood touched the ancient stone, glowing runes burst to life beneath his feet, spreading across the platform like veins of molten fire. A brilliant crimson light shot toward the heavens, swallowing the castle courtyard in dazzling radiance. The chanting intensified until it became almost unbearable. Above

Even though Malrick was from Mistborn Coven he has the ability to command water, wind and fire. Before everyone knew it we were all fighting, killing each other. At the end Malrick was killed with his entire coven and a single Bloodline of Lycans was ended also. That bloodline was the Crimson Lycan line. They ruled the southern half of our world. While Blake’s line, the Bloodmoon line had come out victorious. at one point they ruled the northern half.