Crimson Mask Novels & Stories

“Yes, Alpha.” He sauntered off toward the bathroom for a quick change while she seized the opportunity to gather the masks. The occasion was a masquerade-themed extravaganza, Raymond’s chosen concept. Her fingers danced across the masks’ surfaces, each telling a tale of elegance and charisma. The first mask, resplendent in gold and adorned with rubies, caught her eye. A fleeting glance at her attire reassured her that it harmonized seamlessly with her crimson dress. Next in line was a sleek black mask, its glossy velvet covering exuding an air of mystery.

He sat perfectly still, but every line of his body screamed power. ​He wore a polished silver mask that covered the left half of his face, where the worst injuries were rumored to be. The mask was cracked in one place, giving it a brutal, shattered look. His visible features were sharp: a strong jawline, and one eye deep, icy black that was currently fixed on the patterns in the carpet. He looked like a fallen king, ruined but still terrifying. ​"Anya," my father mumbled, shoving me forward. "Meet Alpha Ronan."

“I was already doing it, you did not have to yank it off me!” Lev says nothing. His rough hand pushes the heavy door open wide. Then he shoves me hard inside. I stumble. Yelp. The box is small. Dark red walls. Two soft chairs. A low table with a bottle and one glass. Half full. Blood red liquid. And a man. His back is to me. Shirtless. Skin pale like snow. Tattoos cover every inch. Black ink. Wolves. Knives. Skulls. Snowflakes. In the middle, huge, the Morozov crest. The same wolf.

His world had shrunk to the four walls of her domain and the sound of her voice. The night of the masquerade arrived. Julianna handed him his costume: a tailored black tuxedo. It felt alien against his skin, a costume in every sense. She herself was a vision of terrifying beauty. She wore a gown of deep crimson, the colour of fresh blood, and a silver mask that covered the upper half of her face, shaped like the elegant, spreading wings of a raven. She didn’t need a mask to be intimidating, but it made her look like a goddess of vengeance.

(Derek's POV) The silver-enhanced ceremonial mask felt heavy in my hands, its weight symbolic of the burden I now carried. I traced my fingers over the gold-trimmed edges, feeling each intricate pack symbol etched into its surface. This mask represented more than just my alter ego—it was freedom from the constraints of being Derek Silverstone, heir to a corrupted pack legacy. Tonight, I would become justice itself. I slipped the mask over my face, feeling the familiar sensation of wolfsbane-infused material against my skin. The ancient symbols I had painted on my neck burned slightly, activating the power-masking enchantment that would prevent other wolves from sensing my true alpha presence

He wickedly smiles while saying, “You to Suffer!” Rather than reacting to what he had said, Zitrey was more surprised on the mask he’s wearing, it was like the same mask she’s using as Crimson Blade. ‘Where did he get that thing?’ But her attention was taken by her friend's complexion that slowly turning to pale and lips in purple. Was the water cold? They start to shake and water almost reached their mouth. She slammed the glass once again. The mind was swirling with curses, seeing them suffer. “Stop it stop! Stop the water now!”

“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.

He answers quietly the question I can’t ask out loud. “I need you to talk to me as your reaction to being here isn’t normal and I believe something big is going on with you.” I shake my head vigorously as he takes the mask from my hand. My fight renews even more now that he wants to talk. Talking doesn’t help me. Oddly, all I can think about is the offer of sanctuary back at Crimson Dawn. I don’t fight for long before Jamie jumps in to help. I freeze completely as his hand snakes its way onto the back of my neck.

“Then it’s not just showing me what’s happened. It’s showing me what will.” Theo reached beside the table again and pulled out a second item from the leather folder. It was slim, bound in deep red linen, the corners worn with time. He hesitated before handing it to her. Her breath caught the moment she saw the title: The Crimson Letter By Isla Ward She stared at it, her hand hovering. “Where did you get this?” “I found it last year,” Theo said quietly. “Tucked behind the books in the library’s upper shelf. I didn’t know what it was at first. Just that it felt… wrong.”

Nagtaas-baba pa ang kilay nito. Sumunod ang tingin ko sa tinutukoy ni Athelia. Naroon si Adamson. He was wearing a black button down shirt. Nakabukas pa ang tatlong butones. He was a bit sweaty and under the lights, his sweat shimmers like they were diamonds. May suot din itong kwintas na may dog tag na pendant. Mukhang may magpipigil ng ngiti ngayong gabi ah. Natawa ako nang umirap si Ena at sumiksik sa akin.