Crimson Connect Novels & Stories

I blinked at her and she nodded. “They’re good at what they do,” she defended. “And besides, their chief owed me a favor.” “And you didn’t tell me about it,” I added with a purr. “I’m sorry,” she came back. “I already apologized. But it yielded a result. The guy just texted. She said the contact is someone on the highest ladder of the Crimson Circle. They are the ones that run the business here.” “Zeke seems pretty high up the ladder, but Zeke’s not a woman,” I noted.

Just one more thing for my anger to latch onto. Rhett walked out of a side room, as I passed the reception area. “What's the deal with Hunji and Kolby?” I asked before Rhett could get a word out. I’m sure the expression on my face said it all. I was in no mood to fuck around right now. Rhett got straight to the facts. “Right, so… Kolby came back from Abner Brooks – got into a crash. Hunji found the crash on his way from the Kodiak Kingdom, Crimson disappeared for two days – Hunji had him detained when he crossed into New Moon. He doesn’t trust Crimson, so he wants to hold him here. But.” Rhett scratched his nose. A telltale sign he was apprehensive about something. “and uh… yeah, Crimson is

Then humanity needed to change with it. At first, Husen worked alongside them willingly. He believed they were searching for a cure. For months they studied ancient blood samples preserved beneath the station. The samples behaved unlike anything known. They regenerated damaged tissue. They repaired cells. They adapted to foreign organisms instead of rejecting them. The researchers named it...Crimson Blood. Husen warned them repeatedly. "We don't understand it." Their answer never changed. "We'll never understand it if we're afraid to touch it."

Nakangiting pagpapaunlak ko at inalalayan si Crimson papasok sa entrance ng venue. ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································

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.

Her knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel. “Try a satellite bounce,” Kira ordered, her voice hard now. “Reroute through South Node and use Aleksander’s emergency key.” Valerie moved fast, her fingers a blur. A few moments later, her face went slack with dread. “System’s in lockdown. No external signals. No live feed. No surveillance footage. Nothing.” My stomach dropped. “Try again.” “I did.” “What the hell does it mean?” Kira asked, even though we already knew the answer.

"Tell me all you know of Amara." Thalia begins to explain, her voice steady and filled with conviction. "Amara is unique, King Badan. I believe she is a hybrid—half wolf or lycan, mixed with witch's blood. If my suspicions are correct, she is the last descendant of the Crimson pack, making her royalty. It seems that she was bound as a baby to hide the immense power she holds within, and her counterpart was bound to never surface."

The candles went out. Author’s Note - The Crimson Veil began as a late-night idea about what might happen if logic met temptation in its purest, most dangerous form. Evelyn’s curiosity is my own: the need to understand what we fear, even when it leads us somewhere we can’t easily return from. This story mixes gothic atmosphere, mystery, and forbidden connection—a slow burn between intellect and instinct. Every chapter was written and refined by hand, inspired by old literature and the darker side of human emotion.

You'd think after seventeen years, I'd be used to it. You'd be wrong. "Aria Blackwood," I read aloud, tracing the elegant calligraphy with my thumb. No one in Pine Hollow received mail with such beautiful writing. Hell, most of us were lucky if the bills arrived without coffee stains. The return address made my blood turn to ice: Crimson Moon Academy. "No," I whispered, my hands starting to shake. "No, no, no." But there it was, the official seal pressed into blood-red wax—a crescent moon wrapped around a wolf's head. Everyone knew what that meant. Every human between seventeen and nineteen knew what that meant.