Crimson Countess Actress Novels & Stories

"Let's go say hello." They walked up the grand staircase. The Countess saw them coming. She didn't run. She didn't call for guards. She simply finished her drink and waited. Up close, she was striking. Ice-blue eyes, platinum blonde hair. She looked dangerous. "Mr. Sterling," the Countess spoke first. Her voice was cool and smoky. "And Grand Duchess Aurelia. You decided to join the party." "You were asking questions about me," Jackson stood in front of her, his body shielding Serenity slightly. "I came to give you the answers personally."

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."

But Adriana knew it was a funeral. She stood near the edge of the grand hall, her wrists adorned not with chains tonight, but with diamonds chosen by Isabella. A cruel mockery of freedom. She wore a gown of crimson silk, the color of spilled blood, her reflection sharp and unfamiliar in the gilded mirrors that lined the walls. Every time her eyes flicked across the room, they found him. Damian Moretti. Tall. Commanding. Dressed in black, his presence made the air itself thrum with tension. But his face was unreadable, carved from stone, even as his gaze burned holes through her.

The minute the area is clear of any Bampires, she gestures for me to come into the courtroom, where we have a shocked Lady Candice staring at me in fear. “Lady Candice, I am Cristina, the new High harbinger leader of not solely this council but of the entire planet. You are here for the assassination of Lord Cameron of Bluestoria your husband. How do you plead, Lady Candice?” she stares at me before responding to Cristina’s question. “I, Lady Candice of Bluestoria plead guilty to slaughtering my husband, Lord Cameron. The reason I murdered him was that he took the one thing I treasured the most away from me, her!” She replied to Cristina as she pointed in my direction.

Every glance, every breath, every heartbeat seemed to orbit her like planets around a sun. Isabella’s humiliation had been delicious, but Helena wanted more. She wanted devastation. She wanted to see Damian himself crawl, to see him broken, destroyed by the woman he had chosen over her. Clarissa and Cynthia flanked her, stepping into the light like loyal ladies-in-waiting, each resplendent in gowns that shimmered like gemstones. Clarissa wore emerald that clung to her slender figure, her auburn hair swept into a crown of waves. Cynthia shimmered in sapphire, her dark eyes lined with kohl that made them glitter like obsidian stars.

I was an Astor and today of all days, I would wear that name proudly. “Good Afternoon. You are right on time. Welcome home Ms. Astor and welcome to Tencrest Manor Mr. Astor. The king and the rest of the Eternal Court are excited for this year’s Crimson Ball and are eager to meet you. I am Celia Deveraux. Think of me as your lady in waiting. I will get you dressed everyday, help you get accustomed to life here, and do anything else you require. The king thought it might be nice for you to get acquainted and rest so we have a few hours before everyone arrives and the night’s event starts. I have you set up in the most secluded wing of the house so you will have your privacy. If you follow me,

The color drew no attention, and yet somehow it made her stand out more. Beside her, Krystal tugged impatiently at her own dress, muttering under her breath. Her dark hair tumbled down her back in loose, styled curls, and her lips were painted a deep red. She had lined her eyes with kohl, giving her a sharp, striking look. “Ugh,” Krystal hissed, tugging at the high collar. “This is dreadful. It looks like we’re preparing for a funeral, not a royal court.” One of her companions laughed softly, adjusting her own sleeves. “It’s the same for all of us.”

The words sent a ripple of unease through the bond. Aldric straightened slightly. “We should talk to your father.” Regina nodded. She had been thinking the same thing. Because if Rafael had targeted her bloodline… Then her father might know why. ⸻ Aldric Crimson Hollow’s Alpha residence stood deep within the forest, surrounded by towering pine trees that whispered softly in the wind. The drive from the hotel had been quiet. Regina sat beside him in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the dark road ahead while the moonlight filtered through the trees.

She leaves as fast as she came. I stare at the dress. My hands shake a little. Sonya sits on the chair by the window. She looks so pale. “I got one too,” she whispers. “Black. Simple.” We do not talk anymore, we just got ready. I put on the red silk. It fits tight and shows too much skin. The collar stays around my neck, a silver cold. Sonya helps with my hair, she makes it into loose waves, adds a little makeup on my face, and gives me red lips. We look pretty, like dolls.