Crimson Roses Novels & Stories

A calming breath through my nose settled me and I cleared my throat. ​“Thank you for coming. Welcome to Tencrest Manor. Tonight marks the 200th year of the Crimson Accord. This season’s Crimson Ball focuses on the unity of the Founding Ten, those who helped build the Accord and continue to support its history and tradition. We have a busy month ahead of us. Events are scheduled for most nights and I encourage everyone to partake. Please do not hesitate to ask the staff, if you have specific needs. I look forward to pursuing another year of peace between our families.” I spare a look at Abigail who has retreated to her seat and am relieved to see her approving smile.

Kira walked ahead with grim purpose, her eyes scanning everything—every tree, every footprint, every glint of metal buried in the frost. Valerie, ever the wildfire wrapped in silk, hummed quietly beside me, one hand resting on her holster, her other playing with the end of her braid. I wasn’t sure if the hum was to calm herself or to taunt Death. The bodies were waiting for us, strung like grotesque ornaments on the rusted iron fence, a chilling welcome from whatever bastard thought this would scare us. They failed. But that didn’t mean it didn’t piss me off. Three corpses, mutilated beyond recognition. Faces slashed and peeled back, skin branded with crude symbols, symbols that made my stom

Blake’s POV The great hall burned with light, brighter than I had ever seen it. Hundreds of candles glowed from chandeliers above, their flames mirrored in polished marble floors. Crimson banners cascaded down the high walls, stitched with gold thread that caught the firelight. Flowers—moonlilies and roses—perfumed the air until it was heavy, intoxicating. And at the heart of it all, walking toward me, was Amara. The crowd hushed as she entered. Her gown flowed like liquid sunlight, golden-brown silk threaded with silver that shimmered with each step. Her curls crowned with moonlilies, her dual-colored eyes shining, she was no longer only my mate. She was the embodiment of prophecy itself.

The winter roses were in full bloom, their petals glowing silver under the moon, frost edging their thorns like delicate lace. Liera gasped as they stepped into the clearing. “Wow… I had only heard of them. Never seen them.” The frozen roses stretched before them, their blooms perfect and ethereal, silver frost sparkling on every petal. The garden was a hidden jewel of Ravencrest, a place few were allowed to enter. Ryke had come here often when the weight of his duties grew too heavy. Now, he watched Liera as she stepped closer, her green eyes wide with wonder, fingers reaching out to touch a bloom without disturbing the frost.

"Are you ready?" Tyler asked. "Yes." Crimson answered, he untied her eyes and she gasped. "Oh my God, this is really beautiful, wow." Crimson exclaimed staring at the green beauty. "Do you like it?" Tyler asked. "It's really beautiful, can I walk into it? The flowers are amazing, I so much like it." Crimson answered. "Yeah, you can." Tyler said. She walked through the roses, the flowers and smell it. "How comes I never knew this place exist?" Crimson asked.

My body hurts all over, especially between my legs, but the biggest pain is the memory of yesterday night. I close my eyes and still see blood on snow and bodies dropping on silent screens. I can still feel Nikolai’s hands, his mouth and his ownership. A soft knock landed on the door and it opens just enough for a tray to slide inside. Is this what they call breakfast in bed or is it breakfast pushed inside. Whatever. It consists of hot croissants, red jam, a jug of tea and one bright red rose in a small glass. I really do not understand what the rose is doing there so I expected someone to walk in and explain but no maid appears.

"Well I was excited to finally meet you in person miss Lee, Lunette says alot about you to me but never brings you home so we've never met untill now. Amber does bring back the other band members and I'm well acquainted with them, just not you. I must say you are more beautiful up close!" Clinton added. Crimson smiled nervously, they had already reached the garden and Crimson came to a halt in front of a rose flower she had been eyeing since she was inside, now that she was here she was very happy and glad to pick up the Rose from the thorny stem. "Well thanks for the compliment big brother, but I think you should save it for Diana, she deserves it more than I do." Crimson replied, trying to

One by one, the crimson roses were pulled from the floral foam, their petals curling slightly at the edges from dehydration, making a soft, dry scratching sound as they were removed. Fred stood beside Cassian, arms crossed, watching the wall come down. "You know, roses are the symbol of love," he said casually, stating the obvious. "I'm trying to help you out here." Cassian didn't take the bait. His eyes stayed on the discarded red roses, something deep in his pupils sinking slowly, like a stone dropped into dark water. Fred glanced at him and kept going. "Red roses represent passionate, true love. You use them for proposals, for confessions. When you want to

I didn’t ask more questions and trusted Trevor completely. After a few minutes, we stepped into a clearing bathed in soft morning light. My breath hitched as I took in the sight before me. A field of red roses stretched out like a sea of crimson, but these weren’t ordinary roses. Each delicate petal had silver markings, shimmering softly under the sunlight, as if kissed by moonlight itself. I gasped. “Trevor… these are…” “The legendary red roses of Silver Rose Pack. The locals called it Silvermarked Roses,” he said gently.

"I am Silas of the Crimson-Thorn. Our pack has watched the smoke rise from your mountains. We have seen the old world’s machines bow to your blood. Our Alpha sends a tribute to the Mother of the Flame." Silas steps forward, lifting the black-vine basket. Inside rests a massive, blooming bouquet of blood-roses. They are a rare, dark crimson flower that only grows in the deep jungle hollows, but they haven't been preserved in fresh water. The petals are coated in a thick, shimmering resin that radiates a powerful, suffocating musk—an ancient tracking scent explicitly designed to carry the genetic signature of a foreign Alpha. The moment that scent—the heavy, aggressive signature of an unbroken