Crimson Heroes Novels & Stories

Coated with black skin and eyes just as red and demonic. “Retreat!” Ascena calls out to all, her voice echoing over the chaos. There is no flight. There is only fight at his point. Crimson leaps in front of us, His fur form large and vibrating with rage. His fur bristles and his teeth gleam. Aimed at Senko. “Join me son, or meet your fate with your friends,” Senko says to Crimson. Crimson roars at his father. Challenging him when Senko’s shadows begin to overshadow him. Taking hold of the Grimalkin whose whole body begins to glow – fighting off the magic that is slowly going to kill him.

The candles went out. Author’s Note - The Crimson Veil began as a late-night idea about what might happen if logic met temptation in its purest, most dangerous form. Evelyn’s curiosity is my own: the need to understand what we fear, even when it leads us somewhere we can’t easily return from. This story mixes gothic atmosphere, mystery, and forbidden connection—a slow burn between intellect and instinct. Every chapter was written and refined by hand, inspired by old literature and the darker side of human emotion.

Even though Malrick was from Mistborn Coven he has the ability to command water, wind and fire. Before everyone knew it we were all fighting, killing each other. At the end Malrick was killed with his entire coven and a single Bloodline of Lycans was ended also. That bloodline was the Crimson Lycan line. They ruled the southern half of our world. While Blake’s line, the Bloodmoon line had come out victorious. at one point they ruled the northern half.

The Crimson Dawn, reshaping the world one unlikely alliance at a time. TO BE CONTINUED...

Lucky to be alive, but then a cripple. He dragged himself back, looking to hide out with the small-time crooks he used to look down on. However, his 'shining achievements' were the talk of the town, and nobody wanted to shelter this total washout and walking disaster. He could not even find a spot in the lowest rungs of the criminal ladder.

The headlines hit the corporate stage like a series of brutal, devastating explosions. “Crimson Foundation Plummets… Again!” The media coverage was absolutely brutal. Graphs and stock charts showed Crimson’s company value dropping in a horrific, straight vertical line. Across the city, Alpha Crimson was just finding out the hard way that I had deep, invisible strings to play, even when we were completely separated and standing on opposite sides of a war. He had thought he could threaten me at the council meeting because of his physical warriors, but he had entirely forgotten that I could destroy his life with a single phone call from my desk.

Before I knew it, we are both naked with him positioning between my legs. “Remember when you touched me?” he whispered on my ear. I nodded. “I’m returning the favor, love.” We made love. We have been through all those tough times and the fact that we’ve been through it means something. Being a half human doesn’t make me any less of a hero. Just because you seem powerless doesn’t mean you can’t do great things. I, myself, am an example. We work, we save, we rejoice. At the end of the day, we saved the Crimson Crest.

“Black Crimson has an extremely distinctive style. If you have someone else paint for him, it’s just going to be written off as a fake.” “No,” Hayden assured him. “It’s not.” When everyone merely frowned, confused, I groaned and rolled my eyes, willing him not to stick out his own neck or admit anything stupid. “No way,” I told him, slashing out a hand. “I’m not down with that plan.” But he didn’t have to say anything. Because Camille suddenly gasped. “Oh my God,” she murmured, gaping between me and Hayden with sudden realization. “Black Crimson isn’t just one person. You guys are like the Brothers Hildebrandt.” She spun to address my brother. “Aren’t you?”

She quickly fixed herself, and then they got out of the car together. A dozen armed men and women appeared before them. Each had the Crimson Clan symbol branded on the part of their clothing or tattooed on their body. It was two letter C's surrounded by a thorny and bleeding rose. Even though the guns were not pointed at them, she did not lower her defense. Her eyes were alert, warily scanning the surroundings. They looked like they were in a huge, spacious underground tunnel. There wasn't enough light to see the corners, but she could tell the thick walls were concrete and fortified.

"Did the Turnbulls kill my parents?" "Straight to it, eh? All right." Alaric combed back his hair. "The truth is, I don't know. There was a battle between two opposing factions in Crimson Blood, which was known as Crimson Moon pack at the time. I don't know how Darien came to be Alpha, but what I do know is that a large group of us rebuilt Crimson Blood almost from nothing after the battle." "How old were you?"