Crimson Eyes Novels & Stories

For the first time, something flickered in his gaze, not pity, not interest, just curiosity. She had the eyes that's believed to only run in the royal family of the Crimson Blood Pack. Ocean blue eyes. His curiosity increased. He stepped back. “Pack your things. You leave at dawn.”

Her eyes were crimson red and had black hair. It looks like my genes were dominant. That's why I said the Bliaviroth empire will have an era of female emperors. The royal blood of Crescent Pack's Alphas is crimson eyes. The eyes which itself speaks of dominance and power over other werewolves. Even though my mother has beautiful blue eyes, I still inherited my dad's. My brother Victor too, his birth mother is said to be average looking commoner but he was born with beautiful red eyes. From that day, whoever was born with crimson red eyes was considered the royal bloodline of the Bliaviroth empire.

no. "Open your eyes and look at what I am!" he roared. I slowly lifted my head, squinting through the tears. He was halfway there. His ears were pointed and tufted with dark fur, his jaw was elongated, and his teeth... they were long, ivory daggers. But it was the eyes that killed me. They weren't blue anymore. They were a vivid, glowing crimson, like pools of fresh blood. I wanted to faint. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. I was staring at a monster, a literal nightmare, and I was just a girl who knew nothing about any of this.

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.

Frederick got up from his throne and walked up to me. He urged me to keep a low temper noticing that the pupils of my eyes went red in color. Being a hybrid of both vampyre and a witch, I didn’t have the glowing blue eyes vampyres get and the glowing green eyes witches have when they’re in their true form. When I triggered any of my inner forms, my eyes just glow bloody red and right now they did. I was insanely filled with hatred towards Cassius.

We both stare into each other’s eyes as we struggle to refill our lungs with the much needed oxygen that we have deprived them of. My focus lingers on Rin’s eyes. What were once the dark green color that I remember are now a startling pink color, with black rimmed around the iris and black flecks mixed in with the pink. The color stole my breath away as I stared up at him with aww, his beauty more ethereal than even my Angel’s.

She smiled, “her wolf is one that needs a strong human, not just anyone can control Crimson.” My eyes darted to her and then back to the road, “Crimson, as in blood, fire and brimstone, that type of Crimson?” She sat up straight, “why would you think like that and not that it is just the color red.” I shrugged, “Angel remember, I always think that type of stuff first,” I gave her a shy smile. She nodded, “it doesn’t matter, Crimson is gone with her, unless she is now with someone who didn’t have a wolf.”

I could tell they were the makeup artists Aunt Malisa had mentioned, as they entered my room and set several sleek cases beside me. With a soft click, they opened one case, revealing rows of shimmering eyeshadows, blushes in warm and cool tones, and lipstick tubes in shades ranging from soft pinks to daring reds. Brushes of all shapes and sizes lay nestled in their compartments, each one looking as if it could transform someone with a single stroke.

Surely he wasn’t supposed to do that; surely he was supposed to stay. My mind raced with questions again, as it had for the past seven days until one detail caused me to pause: his eyes. Were they just Red? Or had I imagined that part? As far as I knew, only vampires and hybrids had eyes that changed completely... but even then, theirs turned black, not crimson.

Her chin was tucked, her shoulders were slumping in her perfect porcelain disguise, but through the dark curls of her hair, her eyes met his—wide, awake, and burning with a terrifying, shared brilliance. The empire was bleeding, the vanguard was turning on itself, and the Ghost was finally holding the knife.