Crimson Dawn Novels & Stories

The vibration climbed through the soles of my feet and settled in my chest. The Sword of Dawn grew warm across my back. Beneath my sleeve, the Dragon Mark answered with a matching pulse that spread through my arm. Aldren turned toward the center of the crater. "It has begun." A deafening crack split the valley. A jagged fissure raced across the ruined ground, carving a path through broken stone until it reached the middle of the collapsed fortress. Crimson light burst from the opening, spilling upward in thick streams that stained the drifting mist a deep, unnatural red.

The stench of cordite and copper ink still clung to the silk wall coverings of the grand salon, but the blood had been sanitized. Two junior enforcers had scrubbed the parquet floor with industrial bleach, leaving a pale, chemical halo where Enzo Vanni’s head had rested less than twenty minutes ago. Outside, the pre-dawn sky had bruised into a dark, suffocating purple, the storm over Lake Como slowly exhausting its kinetic fury into a thick, low-hanging fog.

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.

The midnight skyline of Port Apex was obscured by a thick fog, turning the massive steel cranes into looming phantoms over the black water. Inside the glass-walled command center of Vance Enterprise, the air was sharp with cold air conditioning. Massive wall monitors glowed with real-time global trade routes, but three major digital corridors stretching from Singapore to Rotterdam had suddenly flashed from deep blue to a stark, ominous crimson. Victoria stood before the central map, a glass of untouched scotch resting in her palm. The amber liquid caught the harsh red glare of the screens. She had discarded her blazer, wearing a sleeveless midnight-black tailored vest over her crisp blouse.

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.

I wrap my arms around her waist pulling her in for a chaste kiss before laying my forehead upon hers with a gentle hum. “Alpha Demetri Black is the head alpha of Crimson Dawn. Jamie called me a handful of times when Cole’s PTSD was triggered and Alpha Black needed a gentle way to bring him back. Jamie just found a package Alpha Black gave him that he didn’t expect to find addressed to me. A smartphone and a letter were found inside.” I break my hold on my mate and walk back to the table picking up the letter. I hand it to her and wait for her to finish reading. “All of us?”

Elias walked to a locked cabinet built into the wall. Using an old mechanical key instead of a digital passcode, he unlocked a narrow steel drawer. Inside rested several weathered journals. Paper. Actual paper. Older than most people living inside Zelios. He selected one carefully. The leather cover had almost completely faded. Across the front, barely visible beneath decades of wear, four handwritten words remained. Project Crimson hunger. Aldren's eyes narrowed. "I thought every copy was destroyed." "So did I." Elias gently opened the journal. Several pages had been torn out. Others were stained with dried blood. He turned slowly until one name appeared.

… Dawn broke across the sky. A thin, ashen light crept over the land as Ronan and the warriors of the Crimson Blood Pack reached the borders of Crescent Moon territory. Mist lay heavy over the ground, curling around armored boots and the powerful legs of Ronan’s horse, swallowing sound, dulling distance, turning the world pale and unreal. The army slowed as one.

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

A CROWN OF FIRE Temple Ruins—Morning After the Ambush The dawn after the ambush rose blood-red, painting the temple ruins in streaks of gold and crimson. No smoke coiled from broken braziers. The snow beneath the ancient arches had turned pink with battle. The wind whispered through the stone like a voice retelling what had happened here.