Crimson Gown Novels & Stories

No, tonight, she wore a masterpiece. It was a bold, crimson gown, sleeveless and clean-cut, that clung to her waist before flowing into a soft, regal train. At the back, the silk dipped daringly low—elegant without being vulgar, commanding without trying too hard. A scattering of microscopic, dark crystals adorned the hem and shoulders, catching the light like dying embers with every breath she took. It wasn’t the dress of a naive girl. It was the armor of a queen.

Winking at me playfully, she answered enigmatically, “You will get to see it very soon, Eliza. Now focus on looking beautiful.” After sifting through a parade of gowns, I finally settled on a striking crimson masterpiece—a floor-length gown that hugged my silhouette with effortless grace. Its fabric shimmered like liquid fire under the soft lights of the parlour, exuding an undeniable aura of elegance. Sasha, with her keen eye for beauty, chose a regal purple gown adorned with intricate golden embroidery, the threads glinting like sunlight caught in a web. The dress draped around her with a queenly finesse, making her look both commanding and ethereal.

“It’s not just fabric. It’s armor.” “Then wear armor that tells the truth,” I say. I walk to the garment rack she’s been ignoring and pull back a few hangers. “Not this corporate funeral wear. Not something that makes you smaller.” I hold the midnight blue, floor-length, sleeveless gown out with a shit eating grin. The crystal embroidery runs along the neckline and trails down like stars falling through the sky. It shimmers like power. “This is you,” I say with conviction. She blinks. “That’s… dramatic.”

He showed me to the wardrobe where an extravagant gown was in the hostage. My jaw dropped in awe as my hand delicately brushed against the smooth fabric of the gown, feeling its softness. It was a beautiful creation, crafted from a combination of linen and cotton, which would make it comfortable to wear. The color of the gown was a stunning emerald green, a hue that almost seemed to mirror the mesmerizing shade of Alucard's eyes. "Wow, this is absolutely breathtaking," I whispered in amazement, my eyes never leaving the gown as I admired its intricate design. "Who could have thought that such an elegant piece would be waiting for me here?"

Their gowns flowed elegantly around them, swaying with each step, a visual embodiment of their grace and poise. Kana's gown was a rich tapestry of deep crimson silk, embroidered with intricate patterns of gold thread that caught the sunlight and shimmered as she moved. The fabric cascaded down in gentle layers, the train trailing behind her like a regal cloak. A delicate crown of silver adorned her dark hair, its intricate design glinting softly in the sunlight.

“Fine, fine. I just can’t believe it’s finally happening. You’re going to be crowned Luna of the Red Claw Pack.” Her excitement made my heart flutter and ache a little. I’d dreamed of this once, but not like this. Not with so much blood, deceit, and betrayal behind it. The seamstress motioned me over. “My lady, would you try this on again? We made the final adjustments.” I nodded and stepped behind the changing screen. The gown was breathtaking ivory silk with silver embroidery along the sleeves and hem. It shimmered faintly in the light, soft yet powerful, just like the Luna it was meant for.

Icran bent down, picked up the gown and stretched it out for Rhae to look at. The gown had a lace bodice that stretched over the shoulders and curled down into long, tight sleeves. The gown stretched out in multiple layers from the waist down, spanning from a deep red colour to a washed-out white at the bottom. It was a soft and silky fabric, seemingly like waterfalls cascading down from the waist. The lace was a deep red, inlaid with golden jewels. “It’s revolting.” Rhae growled, attempting to hide her awe at the beauty of the dress. Rhae would never wear something that restricting. No escape would be made in a gown like this.

The weight of her new reality pressed against her chest, but for a moment, she let herself bask in the light. Sitting up, Evelyn stretched, the silky sheets sliding from her shoulders. Her gaze fell on the exquisite gown draped carefully over a nearby chair. It was breathtaking—a deep crimson dress with delicate gold embroidery tracing patterns along the hem and bodice. The fabric shimmered faintly in the morning light, exuding elegance and power.

The dress was a declaration of war. ​It wasn't white. Kaelen had been specific about that. “We are wolves, Elara. We don’t pretend to be innocent. We wear the color of blood.” ​I stared at myself in the floor-length mirror of the bridal suite. The silk was a deep, crimson red, clinging to my curves like a second skin. It had a slit that went dangerously high up my thigh and a neckline that plunged low enough to make my heart race. It was elegant, expensive, and utterly scandalous.

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.