Crimson Blood Novels & Stories

A few suggested it was the end of all things, apocalypse written in blood across the sky. I stood at the edge of the sanctuary garden. The wind lashed through my hair like claws every howl of the storm. The same storm that once lived inside me, that had raged through my soul and poisoned everything it touched, was now painting the world in its color. Crimson. Blood-red. The color of guilt made manifest. And they came, as I had known they would. As they had to.

This time, something new had been scrawled at the bottom in black ink: My offer still stands. You know the cost of pride. Her hands trembled. But her jaw set. “Bastard,” she whispered. — Kieran sat in his penthouse, watching the city bleed gold through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He swirled a glass of red wine slowly, eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand. A live feed. Neera, sitting on the edge of her table, reading the contract. He admired her restraint. Most people would’ve signed the moment their brother was in cuffs. But not her. She was fire in a silk sheath.

"I'm fine -- just a bit cold." He nodded and started the car, and I felt bereft after his hands left mine. It took a few minutes for me to realize he wasn't driving in the direction of the dorm, but I stead to a bank -- a discreet blood bank. I had heard of a few of them from Helen, marked by their upsidedown red cross sign. He got out of the car and went in, and I tried not to worry about his safety, but I did. He was a vampire slayer, after all, entering into the den of his enemies.

she said. I held my breath and opened the flask before I drained down the sweet liquid. The thick blood flowed into my blood and down my throat, my mouth watered for more and I felt a burst energy and adrenaline spread through me. When I breathed out through my nose, my breath was laced with the sweet perfume of the metallic smell of blood. I wanted more but I held my urge. I gripped on the edge of the counter and I felt the ceramic break with a loud sound and then the ceramic crumpled in my fists.

The word slammed into me again, the same word Sydney had spat at me like an insult I wasn't meant to understand. "What is a Crimson wolf?" The question tore out of me, desperate, hungry for an answer I'd been denied my entire life. "Crimson wolves are omegas — easy to underestimate, easy to overlook at a glance. But their minds move faster and sharper than any other bloodline that's ever existed. That gift made them hunted." Her eyes didn't leave mine. "They were the rarest bloodline the Makasi Moon Pack ever produced." So I wasn't sick. I wasn't cursed. I was the last surviving thread of something ancient and rare.

he finished, his voice tearing through the night with the opening blow of annihilation, “you are the STORM.” Something broke loose. The warriors reacted as one… spines snapping straight, chests swelling, claws scraping against steel. Hunger ignited behind glowing eyes, no longer restrained, no longer patient. It was not excitement. It was recognition. The sound that rose from them was not a cheer, but a low, unified snarl… the sound of predators unleashed. Lucien’s gaze held them, cold and absolute. “Remember who you are,” he growled, each word pressed down like a blade against their throats. “We are the Crimson Blood Pack. Wherever we march, the earth tremble

A sea of blood and hatred stands between us, and he had the nerve to talk about being even? I stepped closer, making sure he could see the rage and vengeance burning in my eyes. "Sebastian, this is war between us. No holding back, no end until one of us is down for good." After that grand birthday bash, I could not stop bringing up Sebastian's shenanigans to my dad, my voice dripping with disappointment and disgust. "Dad, Sebastian's got no shame, no sense of right and wrong. A guy like that, even if he waltzes back into the Vitale clan, is nothing but trouble."

Her heartbeat, quick and strong. Her blood, potent and forbidden, singing across the wind. It was more than hunger. It was destiny. I closed my eyes, my fangs pricking as I imagined her taste. Warmth flooding my mouth, power coursing through my veins like wildfire. A tribrid’s blood could make me unstoppable. But there was more. Beneath the hunger, something sharp and unfamiliar twisted in me. Jealousy. The image of her wrapped in Damien’s arms, his mark burning

Chapter 33: Her Touch Was Louder Than the Screams The sky outside hadn't gone back to normal. If anything, the red seam looked angrier now — thicker, like a scar splitting wider, pulsing faintly as if it had a heartbeat. The light leaking from it wasn't just eerie anymore; it was unnatural. Wrong. Casting flickers of red through the blinds that made the walls look like they were bleeding.

I heard a low growl from Paul, but he kept mute with a warning sign from me as Kim spoke again. “The Crimson Wolves is a group of loyal wolves whose sole aim in life is to spill blood. In a more basic statement, the Crimson Wolves are warriors, fighting for whatever our Master says is right. We swear allegiance to only one ruler, and he dictates everything we do. As a result, we've been involved in numerous killings, notable among them being assassinations. Kings, Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Chiefs, Elders…whatever rank they may be, they are living. And living things can die.”