Crimson Paws Novels & Stories

"Go on." The boys removed their masks one by one. "No way," "Boss?" "Adrian?" "Babe?" Zoe waved her hands in the air. "Wait a damn minute. So, let me get this straight, Chris, Jack, and Poet Wilder are Crimson Clan." "You can't forget about Apollo River, the Mafia King." Chris joked. "Oh no, we can't forget that." "And let me get this straight, Zoe Autumn, our Lead consultant. Sandra Pearl, our Corporate Broker. Nina Elizabeth, and Alicia Sun, our Ethical Hackers, are members of the most desired Ruby Tears."

I take a moment to gather my thoughts as this is certainly a change in events that I didn’t expect to happen. “What do you think of Alpha Black and the Crimson Dawn pack?” Every pack has rumors about them. Most of the time those rumors are made up to make the pack sound like they’re a bunch of bad asses so certain wolves end up desiring the pack while others stay away. Sometimes, like the rumors of Red Fang, they end up true.

This is another name for the human half of the Founding Ten. The Binding: A rare and ancient magic effect triggered by the ceremonial blood toast during an Accord marriage. It increases attraction and lowers emotional boundaries between the couple. It was created to increase the likelihood of a Crimsonborn being produced. The Crimsonborn: A child born from a sanctioned Accord marriage. Half human, half vampire. Children outside of Accord marriages are impossible. Without these children, the Accord will collapse. They age slowly and have the option to turn after the age of 18. The Crimson Registry: A registry of donors consisting of elite humans who offer their blood for favors of the Eternal

It was angry, alive, burning. The silence shattered with a guttural roar — deep, rough, a bellow that carried focused intent. This wasn't some aimless roamer drifting through the wastes. This thing had power. Elemental power. From the shadows, it stepped out. Bigger than any roamer they'd fought. Broad - shouldered, muscles twitching under charred, cracked skin. Veins like molten rivers pulsed beneath the surface, glowing crimson with a heat that warped the air. Flames licked along its arms, alive and hungry.

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.

The word slammed into me again, the same word Sydney had spat at me like an insult I wasn't meant to understand. "What is a Crimson wolf?" The question tore out of me, desperate, hungry for an answer I'd been denied my entire life. "Crimson wolves are omegas — easy to underestimate, easy to overlook at a glance. But their minds move faster and sharper than any other bloodline that's ever existed. That gift made them hunted." Her eyes didn't leave mine. "They were the rarest bloodline the Makasi Moon Pack ever produced." So I wasn't sick. I wasn't cursed. I was the last surviving thread of something ancient and rare.

Death draws me towards it like we have been attached with an unbreakable string. Maybe it's just a superpower in which I get the last chance to save the person in front of me or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly a Crimson curse, as I like to call it. Through the years the number of deaths I have seen is greater than my age. You would think that death doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until 5 days ago.

CRIMSON “Do you know the story of the bloody werewolf rogue that was killed by his alpha? Do you know about that rogue that was hated by all of his pack and all the other packs that no one wanted him at all? Are you familiar with the story, child?” an old woman asked me while giving me a serene smile on her lips.

I now turned to Critsy knowing it had to be said. “Gorm does not lie. Everyone listens, these are good people a good pack that is far stronger than we could ever be because they allow everyone to be who they should be, mate whoever they want to mate.” I watched as his eyes met Claire’s and she quickly put her head down. “There is hope here and love here. We can be happy without ever having to run away again and all we have to do is follow our true alpha, the last true descendant of the red wolves, the Crimson Priestess.” Hushed voices and intense shock swept through almost every single wolf.

A tiny brown pup with a white circular patch on its forehead looked up at me in dismay, its soaking wet fur sticking to its body, along with sand and all kinds of dirt that would be a pain in the butt to clean off. Chuckling at his sorrowful expression, I knelt down to pat his little head. “What’s the matter? You weren’t allowed to play in the sea?” Another whine told me that indeed, that had been the scenario. Looking forward, I saw two wolves rushing through the waves. The bigger wolf with dark brown fur and black patches and a smaller wolf with complete black fur. The waves were high, but I wasn’t worried. Cameron would never let anything happen to his precious princess.