Crimson Hunters Novels & Stories

Covering up the hole with some moss, she dusted off her dress and hurried home, her thoughts of the Hunters exposing her long gone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "They're here! The Hunters have arrived!" The cries of the young boys ran through the whole village, many men and women coming out to see the sight. Liam riding in front, followed by nine other men, all on horseback. On the back of Liam's horse was the dead carcass of a mountain lion, and his quiver held an unusual number of arrows. Instead of the standard twelve like the rest of the men in his party, it held 15, two from the archer who had shot the beast earlier, as well as the arrow aimed to warn 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.

The sky begins to quickly fill up with dark clouds as the last standing witches beside her finally succumb to death. “You have hunted us, made us hide in darkness, burnt our people on stakes of fire, and so I curse you and all your kind to the same fate. You shall always have to hide away in the darkness. The sun and fire will be your nemesis...” Blood spurts from Catherine’s mouth as she tries to continue her speech, her body quivering hard under the onslaught of the wind. The red mist around her disappears, and as she falls to her knees the last she sees is a red sun rising up above the dark clouds, and then darkness.

He wore identical silver boots to the ones the adjudicator was wearing, and I could see smears of blood on his jacket. "Tyrants?" Tia asked. "Yeah, one of them almost got away though, good thing Jhan was there to take 'em out," He said, "they had an unauthorized clan hunt two weeks days ago, say one of their members even went missing,"—a knot tied in my stomach and I knew if I had something in my stomach I would have vomited it all out—"but we rounded the rest up." "Where is Jhan?" I asked, taking heat off the missing vampire topic.

"...someone older than us." The heavy doors opened once more. Three elite hunters entered. Unlike ordinary vampires, these warriors wore fitted black leather coats rather than ceremonial robes. Each carried twin curved blades across their backs. They knelt. "My Lady." Nysera descended from the platform until she stood before them. "You will travel immediately." "Yes, My Lady." "You will observe." "You will not interfere." "If Crimson Blood has truly awakened..." She paused. "...I want a name." "A face." "And proof."

This is another name for the human half of the Founding Ten. The Binding: A rare and ancient magic effect triggered by the ceremonial blood toast during an Accord marriage. It increases attraction and lowers emotional boundaries between the couple. It was created to increase the likelihood of a Crimsonborn being produced. The Crimsonborn: A child born from a sanctioned Accord marriage. Half human, half vampire. Children outside of Accord marriages are impossible. Without these children, the Accord will collapse. They age slowly and have the option to turn after the age of 18. The Crimson Registry: A registry of donors consisting of elite humans who offer their blood for favors of the Eternal

They moved like ink drops in water, their forms shifting between human and geometric shapes. **The Original Hunters.** They didn't carry weapons. They carried "Prisms"—small, floating crystals that sucked the color out of everything they touched. "**[IDENTIFIED: PRIMARY ENERGY SOURCE,]**" the Hunters spoke, their voices echoing directly in our minds like the scratching of a needle on a record. "**[VESPERA. RETURN TO THE VAULT. THE COLLECTION IS INCOMPLETE.]**" "Get behind me!" I roared, stepping in front of the huddled Pack.

She’s not a natural hunter yet. We learned that during her first pack hunt. Most Crimson wolves move through the forest like shadows…they have been trained to be quiet, deliberate and nearly invisible. Tanya tried, she really did, but she still stepped on too many dry branches and was still startled at the sounds of movement in the undergrowth and bushes. By the time she caught up to the rest of us, the deer was already down. She looked embarrassed. “I slowed you down.” “You stayed with the group,” I said, handing her a bottle of water. “That’s more important.”

“The group that we had been hunting has now been exposed.” Everyone stiffened. “The group that was the reason our life in harmony with the forest got destroyed and forced us to live with them has now finally found out.” “Come on, Tsar, tell us who these fuckers messed up with us,” one of the leaders urged. “The group was named Cross. The hunters we have hunted for decades. The Hunters who slaughtered our packs, butchered our kin.” Growls rumbled across the room. The Korean Alpha’s lip curled. The Sicilian Don’s eyes darkened with fury.

We talked amongst ourselves, some conversations revolved around tomorrow, some were meaningless, and others were about how they missed home. I watched as Crimson stood off to the side, watching the darkness that enveloped our army. The werecat king was lucky Chakor found him and was able to heal him and he had been thankful that though Cambiador was once again in ruins, Tawny had survived, and his cubs were safe. “What do you sense Crimson?” Morgan asks, standing from her place beside Hunji and walking over to him. With hands on his hips his attention still on the darkness, he replies “I’m not sure.”