Novel & Cerita Crimson Lady

"Tell me all you know of Amara." Thalia begins to explain, her voice steady and filled with conviction. "Amara is unique, King Badan. I believe she is a hybrid—half wolf or lycan, mixed with witch's blood. If my suspicions are correct, she is the last descendant of the Crimson pack, making her royalty. It seems that she was bound as a baby to hide the immense power she holds within, and her counterpart was bound to never surface."

A tall woman with flowing white hair. A crimson mask concealed the upper half of her face. In her hand rested a spear forged entirely from black crystal. She smiled. “The reunion is touching.” Her gaze settled on Damien. “Welcome home…” “…Vessel.” ⸻ Damien instinctively stepped in front of Alessio. “No.” The woman laughed. “You still think you’re protecting them.” ⸻ She raised one hand. Every Crimson warrior struck the floor with their spears. The cathedral filled with a low, vibrating hum.

But the shape of her body…it was something he constantly sees in Shamrock. Yet, there was another female figure. Her hair was identical to the all-red lady. The only difference is that this woman was in all black apparel. Black and red—those ladies might be indulged in something; in a serious discussion, to be precise. He spotted the head of a fallen English werewolf spiked in a long iron spear situated at the middle—in between the black lady and the red lady. “I have missed you, daughter,” the lady in black muttered. Dorrien could clearly hear due to his werewolf senses but not vividly see as he was a few feet away from those creatures.

the voice barks louder. They all move back to their various seats, grumbling. We finally get to fully see the two women after everyone is seated. While the first is a plain looking old woman with full grey hairs and buxom body, the other, Brea, is a slim young teen girl looking not older than us. The girl casts the picture of an angel descended from the heavens with her flowing white gown and regal airs which is so pure and clean—even more so than the white matron back at home. Her eyes are ocean blue, glowing even in the near darkness, and there are tiny splashes of blood on the white gown which does nothing to hide her womanly curves, and another trail of blood on her left lip.

“Let's move quickly, before the place above will be ruined. As the two notorious, ruthless, and top rank assassins, who already killed thousands of lives and never been failed in their own mission, are about to meet.” “If Crimson Blade, that girl has bounty on her head, I would like to also took her down. And have glimpse on her unrivaled face, face that no one can't describe nor ever see than the top high ranker assassins with the same level of skills and Aoi Akuma, her rival. But right now, I would not risk my life for something I can't gain a profit.” Meanwhile... Zitrey in black ninja outfit, stands firmly atop of people laid on the floor unconscious, with the blazing fire outside that r

Neera stood in her balcony, the skyline behind her glowing gold and steel. The letter burned quickly in the fireproof dish she kept for other purposes — evidence disposal, mostly. She watched it curl and blacken until nothing but ash remained. Kieran Renzaro’s offer — his arrogant, polished, impossible offer — was reduced to smoke. And she didn’t flinch. She wouldn’t play his game. Wouldn’t be someone’s pawn, no matter how shiny the paycheck or how seductive the power behind it. She wasn’t for sale.

A hush fell as the Alpha raised his cup. “To the Blood Moon,” he intoned. “To the gift of the Shift.” The pack raised their cups in unison. Voices lifted in a chorus of reverence and then... A second voice split the night. “The cursed daughter will either crown or bury you all.” The words were ragged and eerie and were seeping into every corner of the clearing. A figure stepped from the tree line, crimson robes dragging against the earth, while her blind eyes were glowing faintly white. The Crimson Seer. Gasps rippled through the pack. Some wolves dropped their cups, while others shifted uneasily. No one had invited her. Her pale, sightless gaze locked on me as my skin crawled immediately.

The midnight skyline of Port Apex was obscured by a thick fog, turning the massive steel cranes into looming phantoms over the black water. Inside the glass-walled command center of Vance Enterprise, the air was sharp with cold air conditioning. Massive wall monitors glowed with real-time global trade routes, but three major digital corridors stretching from Singapore to Rotterdam had suddenly flashed from deep blue to a stark, ominous crimson. Victoria stood before the central map, a glass of untouched scotch resting in her palm. The amber liquid caught the harsh red glare of the screens. She had discarded her blazer, wearing a sleeveless midnight-black tailored vest over her crisp blouse.

Blanche asked, she stood behind them and rested her elbows on one of the shelves near the aquarium. "Because it's nice! Don't you think so too Blanche?" Forest said and Crimson gave her a look. Blanche opened her mouth but didn't say anything. She ran her eyes on them, Crimson was wearing a red long sleeve sweater and Forest have a green mini skirt under her purple dress. Crimson had a more defined waist than Forest but the latter has such a voluptuous body. Their chest was eminent in their choice of dress. "Even Crimson already met hers!" Forest told her excitedly.

A shot of sharp pain passed through his foot. Ouch, he cursed inwardly. Adrian looked up to his assaulter, and he was not surprised to see the caramel skinned, obviously brainless beauty in front of him. “I am so sorry,” the lady said and Adrian scowled at her. She was wearing an expensive looking black dress and she looked like the rest of the party, her brown curly hair was styled in some exquisite style. She wore shiny and expensive looking jewels on her neck, her lashes were too long to be natural and way too much makeup was caked on her face. She was either the young trophy wife of one the businessman or a daddy’s girl. Either way, she was the type of woman that he hated and avoided by