Crimson Heroes Novels & Stories

The one who quietly protected our Lycan Clan from attacks or outsiders. I was a fighter. No, not was. Am. I am a fighter, and I don’t give up. I was given a gift, a gift so dark and powerful I had been afraid to use it for fear that it would consume me. Peering over Crimson's shoulder, I see Tobias and Lyric fight against the Zombified dark soldiers, I look past them to see my mate. My heart stops and I hold my breath, gripping Crimson's forearms I watch, almost in slow motion, Lamia hit back at the towering god. Kellen works with her striking blow after blow as they move around him, attempting to distract his attention and leave him open and vulnerable.

Hope's war room is cramped with too many alphas and too much tension. Connor stands at the head of the table, displaying crime scene photos that make even seasoned warriors flinch. Dante sits to his right, arms crossed, face carved from stone. Amara examines tissue samples under a portable microscope. And Sera positions herself as far from Dante as physically possible while remaining in the room. "Four victims," Connor summarizes. "All killed within a fifty-mile radius of Crimson Hollow territory. All are traveling to the Autumn Gathering. All drained of blood and marked with summoning circles."

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."

The word slammed into me again, the same word Sydney had spat at me like an insult I wasn't meant to understand. "What is a Crimson wolf?" The question tore out of me, desperate, hungry for an answer I'd been denied my entire life. "Crimson wolves are omegas — easy to underestimate, easy to overlook at a glance. But their minds move faster and sharper than any other bloodline that's ever existed. That gift made them hunted." Her eyes didn't leave mine. "They were the rarest bloodline the Makasi Moon Pack ever produced." So I wasn't sick. I wasn't cursed. I was the last surviving thread of something ancient and rare.

“I was there inside the convenience store when the robbery was happening. I was there when grandma and Christine, thought you like me, I was there when Christine almost become a hostage. I was there when Christine runoff and was about to be hit by a bullet. I was there when she declared that she wants to be your brother. I was there only watching…” “Just as I thought, then why you didn’t show up and save her during those dangerous times? Why you didn’t show your face as her brother?!” Zitrey voice slightly rises up. “Even if I want too, I can’t… I was in the middle of a mission… no… I was just afraid to show up to them. I was full of hatred that I can’t show my current state to them yet. I a

"I know, right? Even if this buffoon is a delinquent, he doesn't have any tattoos." "I heard princesses should be trapped in towers." Crimson commented. "Well, you look more like the wicked mother that trapped the princess there." "Please don't ruin the peaceful atmosphere here." I stopped them from fighting again as I sighed. It was annoying, but I'm glad to see that Crimson was back to his normal self. More importantly, here's another person that suddenly gained colors. I really don't get why they're the specific people that have colors. There should be a reason why it's them, but I just don't understand what it could be. I have no idea what their common denominator is.

SAME DAY Everyone who wore the red robed today we're considered the bravest and most loyal vampires and wolves. To fight in a battle so gruesome, death was assured to come to you, in the faith for the greater good. I had waited patiently, bearing the pulsating pain in my chest and hoping for the best for all of us. For the best that we would all survive and be together one last time as a clan before I set off on my own path to find out for myself the answers to my life. But the odds of that were slim and the chances of only one of us surviving was great.

I looked deeply into Crimson's eyes, pools of fiery determination, and found solace in his unwavering support. "But how, Crimson?" I questioned, my voice trembling with a mixture of regret and uncertainty. "How can I right the wrongs I have done? How can I heal the pain I have caused?" Crimson's presence strengthened, his ethereal form growing brighter within my mind. "The path to redemption lies in your actions," he explained, his voice infused with a pearl of wisdom. "Show Shea the depths of your remorse, and let your actions speak louder than any words can convey.”

"Don't dare yourself to involve his name, he's our remarkable fighter with a brain and resilience that can melt your guts from his hands" "He's an abomination and he kills more than abundance" "Crikey it is and I believe your men in grey decided to aim a poster with Wilson's face" "You listened to?" "Rumors can spread more than a person's feelings, Sir Lesley " "I'm just hoping that you can allow us to stop the Criemsons so we can let the others thrive with satisfaction" "Why not accept it if we forbid Lesley and the Criemsons will be forever a corporation and a family that protect and kills devils in the house"

“The Crimson wolves have always been in the FireHeart pack, because their flames and uniqueness comes from the same flames that emanate from the crimson throne.” “Can I ask a question, Doctor?” Minister Blackthorn asked suddenly. “You may.” “You spoke about survival of the fittest, how sure are you that the crimson rogue we showed you is not actually a crimson wolf but a generated one?” “The eyes,” Doctor Monroe said, his smile stretching. “The eyes never lie. A crimson wolf is made crimson because of its distinctive red color. This distinctive color is shown both on the fur, the eyes and hair. They have a characteristic pale white skin like snow. That is the characteristic of a crimson. If