Crimson Lace Novels & Stories

Gianna’s POV I stood in front of the mirror in my chambers running my hands over the soft, sheer lace of the lingerie Nyx had chosen for me. It was a deep crimson the kind that looked like it had been painted with fire and passion barely covering anything. The neckline plunged daringly, the delicate material clinging to my curves teasing more than concealing. Like I wanted it. The slit up the side of the matching robe revealed far too much leg and the thin straps felt like they could snap under the weight of my anticipation.

Marco said, sliding the corner piece—crispy, custardy—onto her plate without comment. Corrine’s texts pinged a chorus on the counter—place cards, linens, lilies vs. ranunculus. Sasha voice-texted, Lilies. Scent matters more than I*******m. Switch to cream paper; the gray reads funeral at night. Her tone surprised her. She sounded like a person who had already decided. Shower. Steam. The memory of a fist, now a pale crescent. She dressed for noon’s performance: a dove-grey sheath, pearls the size of quiet confidence, a soft sweep of eyeliner. She looked like herself if the mirror tilted toward ambition.

It took about an hour to settle on a black lace dress with about a hundred layers of tulle and an off shoulder bodice. When I stepped into it, an audible gasp went through the room. Crystal attached the fangs onto my teeth and stepped back. She bent at the waist and swept her arm towards me with a flourish like a magician with a good trick. “I present to you, your vampire princess.” Nyx eyes softened. “You look really beautiful. I have a good feeling. Let's go.” Nyx and Crystal lifted the train of my dress and they walked me out to the car. Caspian was already seated inside, and I could see the outline of his face through the dark glass of the limo.

Delicate lace bras with matching panties in black, deep red, and emerald green. I blushed furiously, heat flooding my entire face and neck as I pulled them out. My hands were trembling slightly as I held up the emerald green set, examining the intricate lace detailing. Zayne was watching me intently, his golden eyes tracking every movement I made. "I thought of you when I saw those," he drawled. "I imagined you wearing them, imagined what you would look like in each color, and I couldn't walk away without getting them for you."

Crimson looked at me with a confused expression on his face, but I didn't know what was going on either, so I shrugged my shoulders. "Sorry, but who are you?" Crimson asked, still with that confused expression. Lilac's face suddenly turned red as she covered her mouth. "I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed. "You helped me with picking up some papers a few days ago. My name is Lilac Innocencia." Crimson thought to himself for a bit. "Ah!" He finally realized something. "Right, I remember you now." Lilac bowed again. "As I was saying, I'm very sorry for being rude to you before."

* *The next day* Crimson sat in front of the mirror staring at herself, the make up was done and she was dressed on her Royal attire with a crown on her neatly made hair. A tear dropped from her eyes, she quickly wiped it up. "Our problems sometimes makes us stronger, Moon goddess, Please make me Strong, I'm not doing this because I want to but for the sake of my throne, Please show me a way." Crimson exclaimed. Alpha Zaid joined her, she quickly wiped her tears. "You look really beautiful my Luna, look, I got you a gift." Alpha Zaid said and showed her a diamond necklace. "It's beautiful, but I think that's much."

The lace dress was covered with Italian mesh and composed of patterns embroidered to the gown. The color scheme she’d chosen was a bit unorthodox but Dominic had agreed that everything was her choice. The tables would be covered with black tablecloths because for her it signified his power and dominance. She wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing or not. The overlays were a sage green, not only because she loved green but because green also signified hope and growth. Her bouquet would be a mixture of red poppies and lilies, flowers that signified her sadness but also her courage.

Chapter 15: The Widow’s Second Wedding "White is for the innocent, Bianca. You’re wearing the blood I spilled for you." Dante’s voice rumbled behind me as the seamstress tightened the corset. I stared at my reflection. The dress wasn't the virginal silk my father would have chosen. It was a heavy, structured ivory that caught the light like polished bone, but the underskirt was a deep, bruised crimson. Every time I moved, a flash of red peeked out—a secret wound trailing behind me.

Crimson. The ceremony's completion moves through Lucian's system with the finality of something that cannot be partially done, the First Hybrid's merged soul completing its integration with the channels in a wave that starts in the chest and moves outward through the limbs and the extremities and the crown on Lucian's brow, the gold-red burning there shifting in response, the colors remaining but the quality of them changing, deeper and older and carrying the specific weight of something that has been doing this for a very long time.

ILANA. The Blood Moon Festival came five days too early. On the third evening, the moon bathed its eerie, crimson glow over the Nightshade Pack. This was an event rarely experienced and considered by the pack to be a sign from the Moon Goddess, hastening the fate of two destined mates. The pack was in an uproar of joyful frenzy. The whole of the pack square hummed with excitement, as though even the air vibrated in anticipation. I faltered at the door to Rana's small cabin and brushed off invisible lint from the pale blue dress that Rana had lent me for tonight. "Rana, are you sure about this?" I asked, trying to keep the nerves from edging my voice.