Crimson Lancer Novels & Stories

Killian POV Unlike every usual day, the war room was colder and perhaps it was because of the tension in the air. The presence of Lucian made everywhere tensed. The moment Aria and I walked into the court room, our eyes matched and he held a smile on his face. Lucian was wearing a black and red cloak and it symbolize the colors of Crimson Pack. Perhaps he didn't come with anything threatening like I had thought after all. "Lucian." I said with a sharp voice to him. "You have got the audacity to walk into my pack after everything you did in the past?"

Chapter 18 It was real. Aurora stood frozen, staring at the strange red mark burned into Liam’s chest. A twisted “R” with wings, like it had been seared into his skin long ago. She reached out without thinking, her fingers barely grazing the scar. It was raised. Old. Permanent. Liam didn’t flinch. He just stood there, watching her with tired eyes. “You were marked,” she whispered. “Like property.” He slowly pulled his shirt back down. “That’s what happens when you belong to the Crimson Sons.”

His black-red eyes are more red than black now. “I wasn’t commanding,” I said, taken aback. “I was just joking.” “I want you to quietly follow behind me. Not another word till we get to the castle.” He sternly said. We walked, Kent several inches ahead of me, and I talked. I told him about my oldest sister Crystal's mating ceremony.

Adonis I steered my Range Rover past the security checkpoint at the mainland's entrance and caught sight of the warrior base's huge complex. The Lycan pack's crimson flag and the tribe's green banner fluttered from sturdy flagpoles. I pulled over and watched as a squad of six warriors trained in the courtyard, their wooden katanas clashing in a flurry of movement.

I heard a low growl from Paul, but he kept mute with a warning sign from me as Kim spoke again. “The Crimson Wolves is a group of loyal wolves whose sole aim in life is to spill blood. In a more basic statement, the Crimson Wolves are warriors, fighting for whatever our Master says is right. We swear allegiance to only one ruler, and he dictates everything we do. As a result, we've been involved in numerous killings, notable among them being assassinations. Kings, Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Chiefs, Elders…whatever rank they may be, they are living. And living things can die.”

Phoebe I had never set foot in Dark Crimson before, and the moment our car passed through its front gates, my whole body tensed. The pack house rose like a dark fortress—nothing like the elegant Silver Claw manor or the clean-lined designs of Thunder Bite. This place felt ancient, heavy… dominant. The building looked as if it had been carved from one giant block of obsidian, with deep red accents running along each pillar like dried blood. The Dark Crimson banner fluttered against the gray sky—black and red, marked by a crowned Lycan sigil.

The forest quaked under the weight of Lysandra’s army. Hundreds of soldiers formed a wall of black armor, their rune carved rifles glinting with cold blue light. The crimson banner bearing my stepmother’s crest swayed above their heads, cutting through the air like a wound. The moment felt unreal. Like the past and the future had collided on this single patch of Earth.

The Tournament was littered with possible 'crimson ones'. Of course, he could be completely wrong in his assumption, and what Madam Josefa actually meant was that he should beware the 'crimson one' because meeting him or her in a race meant he would owe them his life, not the other way around. When he found out that Zafir was his next opponent, a bad feeling settled into his gut. Of all the people in the whole Tournament, he was the one Colin had considered most likely to be the 'crimson one'--red hair, red suit, red wyvern--and also the most unlikely to need his help during the race (the newbie was a natural-born racer). Still, he kept his guard up, ready to either dive into action in case