Crimson Blood Novels & Stories

“You know, I’ve lived through almost seven decades, and I know a bloodline that had white hair. Moonblood.” “Moonblood?” She nods. “Yes. The first of their kind was born under a red moon. It altered their chemistry, from what I read. Their powers are similar to the moon goddess.” My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, chest tightening. “What happened to them?” “They were wiped out.” She flips the page. “These clan of wolves didn’t live among regular wolves because they were hated, envied for their strength. We heard that regular wolves tipped off human hunters, and every single one was killed.”

The blood moon rose swollen and obscene, painting the palace walls the color of a fresh bruise. Every corridor crawled with anticipation. Servants scurried with silver trays of raw hearts and crystal decanters filled with vampire blood laced with nightshade—just enough to heighten the senses without killing the drinkers. Musicians tuned instruments strung with werewolf gut. Torches burned blue, fed by alchemical fats that whispered when the flames licked them. Tonight was the Feast of the Crimson Coronation: an ancient rite held only when the moon bled. It celebrated the original pact between Lycan and vampire—before betrayal, before war. Tonight it would celebrate a marriage.

Levi said in a whisper voice Azrael and Lexi both jumped down from the vent following Levi. What welcomed them was the stinky dungeon. The stench of body odor and dried blood lingers through the air and Azrael was just trying her best not to vomit. The smell made them nauseous but determination took over. They all looked through the cells of the dungeon. They were wolves from the Crimson Crest pack, lying down without strength. At first glance you might think they are dead but they are not. They are only covered with their own blood and sweat but they are still breathing… barely alive.

ILANA. The Blood Moon Festival came five days too early. On the third evening, the moon bathed its eerie, crimson glow over the Nightshade Pack. This was an event rarely experienced and considered by the pack to be a sign from the Moon Goddess, hastening the fate of two destined mates. The pack was in an uproar of joyful frenzy. The whole of the pack square hummed with excitement, as though even the air vibrated in anticipation. I faltered at the door to Rana's small cabin and brushed off invisible lint from the pale blue dress that Rana had lent me for tonight. "Rana, are you sure about this?" I asked, trying to keep the nerves from edging my voice.

She flips one open, showing us the colored edges where half the pages have been ripped out. “These keep talking about the Crimson Moon Queen. They don’t call them curses. They are described as shifters the goddess sends down on purpose.” She points at a jagged tear. “Right here, you can see mentions of ‘Crimson-born’ People with crimson eyes. Zhodin’s name is all over the early and later parts. It’s like every time a story of a cursed being comes up, his name or the Fenaris bloodline appears right beside it.” “How come none of us ever saw these books?” Khaisha walks over, leaning in to inspect the yellowed parchment.

Dawn did not bring silence. It only made the sounds clearer. The courtyard of Crimson Hollow was a map of what the night had taken. Bodies lay where they had fallen—some Bloodmoon, some our own, a few in Ashwood colors who had arrived too late to do anything but die beside strangers. The smell of burned pitch, blood, and the sharp metallic aftertaste of silver fire hung in the cold morning air. Healers moved between the living and the dying with the quiet efficiency of people who had already accepted that not everyone could be saved.

Crystal asked worriedly. "Who said it isn't? You're carrying my pups, pups of the Alpha king and as long as you are carrying my pups, the alpha book will take you as Alpha blood." Ramos said, while left Crystal shocked as she also realised that he was right! There was alpha blood inside her, and this is why the Alpha book had turned red!

Too much involvement and the spirits will be angry and who knows what the results will be then, but not enough and I’ll doom Max even worse than he is already. The spirits take no time at all to start the process. It’s almost as though they’ve been hungry for centuries and this is the first meal they’ve had in all this time. Perhaps that is why they want such a peculiar thing such as the blood of someone like Max. I take in a deep breath and focus all of my magic and powers on Max as he grows drowsy from the loss of blood. Although it is almost unnoticeable to everyone else, I can see the faint droplets of his blood being drained from his body.

I uttered again and again, my hand parallel to each other, and on its center is the formed symbol of death on fire. If this is what it takes to avenge my loss, I don’t mind giving my life. “Ophelia! Don’t do that!” Queen Romina cried, but I only continued. “Mea vita pro morte sua…” My life for his death. The moment I opened my eyes, I felt like I was reborn in new and more powerful body. I could feel the overflowing energy on my veins, the heat of fire around me, my soul aching for blood, and my every nerve screaming for death.

Death draws me towards it like we have been attached with an unbreakable string. Maybe it's just a superpower in which I get the last chance to save the person in front of me or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly a Crimson curse, as I like to call it. Through the years the number of deaths I have seen is greater than my age. You would think that death doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until 5 days ago.