Crimson Lady Novels & Stories

KRISTINA'S POV The Crimson Snow Pack members gathered together in the lobby. We were all dressed identically, but I felt like I stood out the most. Our theme was supposed to make us wear all black, and yet, I was the only exception—I wore a red dress that was tight on my waistline, which exposed the curves of my body. Even my breasts almost popped out because of their size. This was what Laurence told me to wear a while ago in preparation for his coronation night.

Her eyes went wide with fear as soon as she recognized me and there was a flicker of something else. I pushed her roughly away from me and tried to remember she wasn't human when the force of the shove made her stumble and fall. I didn't hit girls -- she wasn't a girl. She was some ancient creature that had lived over a thousand years who actually had humans for breakfast. She stood slowly, flicking her hair that had tumbled all over her face off. ''Where I come from, it is wrong to hit a lady.'' That actually made me to laugh. '' You're not a lady Amelia Rhinehart, you're not even human. Is it okay to murder people in their sleep where you come from?'' I asked and she immediately dropped he

The elders were in position. Everything was ready. Everything except.. Them. Ryan and Crystal. There they were. Crystal emerged first, stepping into the ceremony like she was born for this moment. She was dressed in deep crimson, the silk catching the light, flowing around her like liquid fire. She was glowing,radiant, triumphant. And at her side.. Ryan. Dressed in dark ceremonial robes, the embroidered silver sigils of his lineage stark against the black fabric. A crown of iron and bone rested against his brow, a symbol of his place, his power, his duty.

Yeah, it could be. “Crimson,” he said after he gave me back the delivery slip he had just signed. “Tell Mrs. Li that I need to talk to her. Tell her that she needs to report to me this afternoon.” I was about to nod but then I saw a beautiful woman walking behind him and hugging him on his waist. I was starstruck. The woman is like a goddess with her beauty, but obviously she’s just a plaything of this man for sure. Poor woman!

“But I’m not letting some ghost in lipstick steal my kill and walk away like a fucking legend.” I stood, crushing the cigarette under my heel. Amara Voss. The Revenant. I didn’t care if she was a myth, monster, or martyr. I would find her. And if she wanted war, I’d give her one she’d never forget.

Her hair was a river of shadows — black with hints of violet and wine - red gloss, curling like dark lava alive with promise and warning. She created chaos and destruction in the mortal world like a shadow slipping through cracks — silent, unseen until everything shattered around her. She whispered promises to greedy hearts, her beauty a weapon sharper than any blade. Mortals fell for it every time. Their eyes locked onto her like moths to a flame, drawn by the impossible allure of her face — too perfect, too captivating to be real. They didn't see the poison beneath the skin, didn't sense the hunger twisting in her smile.

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.

A flush stained her cheeks, even as she cried, “They most certainly are not.” I pointed, grinning like crazy. “Then why are you blushing so hard right now?” “Oh my God.” She threw up her hands and spun away to walk a few steps across the room, gaining some space between us before she whirled back. “Here’s the deal. If you give me an exclusive interview about Black Crimson, I’ll keep your identity private. No one will ever have to know it’s you. How about that?”

I pick it up and run my fingers over the hard moon sigil pressed on the cover. “Interesting...” I mutter, opening to the first page. It simply lists: Goddess, Lycans, Witches, Bloodlines, and Hybrids. My pulse quickens. I flip through the pages, ignoring the ones that have been torn out clean. The writing is cramped and old-fashioned, talking about cursed beings. “The Crimson-born are not of the pack, nor of the coven. They are independent and choose where they wish to go. Forged in the silence between the first howl, the Goddess’s tears, and the first spell. With their pale skin comes eyes deeper than the stain of blood.”

Both of us were soaked. Seeing that I had also been splashed, the villager hurried forward, intending to apologize. However, the moment he looked at me, he fell silent as he stared in shock. I paused for a moment before realizing something was wrong. My heart sank. Sure enough, Aldric’s gaze shifted back and forth between Rosalind and me. “The Princess’s mark on her forehead washed away with the water, but Lady Leanora’s makeup faded… and revealed a real birthmark! Lady Leanora… She is the true Chosen One!”