Crimson Stone Novels & Stories

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.

* *The next day* Crimson sat in front of the mirror staring at herself, the make up was done and she was dressed on her Royal attire with a crown on her neatly made hair. A tear dropped from her eyes, she quickly wiped it up. "Our problems sometimes makes us stronger, Moon goddess, Please make me Strong, I'm not doing this because I want to but for the sake of my throne, Please show me a way." Crimson exclaimed. Alpha Zaid joined her, she quickly wiped her tears. "You look really beautiful my Luna, look, I got you a gift." Alpha Zaid said and showed her a diamond necklace. "It's beautiful, but I think that's much."

But that was what intrigued me the most. There was no way I could take my eyes off him and the more I looked at him, the more questions I had. Dominic Stone was becoming an enigma, a riddle that had to be deciphered as soon as possible. This will probably be my next mission as soon as I return to my old life. “Not before you tell me why the red eye color?”

ILANA. The Blood Moon Festival came five days too early. On the third evening, the moon bathed its eerie, crimson glow over the Nightshade Pack. This was an event rarely experienced and considered by the pack to be a sign from the Moon Goddess, hastening the fate of two destined mates. The pack was in an uproar of joyful frenzy. The whole of the pack square hummed with excitement, as though even the air vibrated in anticipation. I faltered at the door to Rana's small cabin and brushed off invisible lint from the pale blue dress that Rana had lent me for tonight. "Rana, are you sure about this?" I asked, trying to keep the nerves from edging my voice.

The air in the Solaris chamber was so cold it felt solid, a crystalline silence broken only by the whisper of falling snow outside the glacial walls. Cian, of the Frosted Veil, watched the vampire across from him. Scarlet, Emissary of the Crimson Citadel, did not shiver. Her stillness was a provocation, a silent challenge to the eternal winter he commanded. “The terms are acceptable,” Cian said, his voice the sound of ice cracking over a deep lake. “The Sunstone in exchange for your assistance.”

A deep, glowing, unnatural crimson. My stomach dropped. The book. The line about draining energy. Was that book… about him? Before I could process it, something hot and electric surged through me, like fire spilling through my veins. I gasped and pulled away from the kiss, stumbling back. His expression twisted in panic. “My Crimson Stone!” he hissed, his gaze darting down to my chest. “Oh no.” I staggered, clutching the wall behind me. I’d been feeling weak for days, but now… now I felt strong. Stronger than I’d ever been.

Fifty-six minutes remained before the final sweep. He pulled his heavy black coat tighter around his massive shoulders, his face returning to that unyielding, terrifying mask of stone. He had successfully penetrated the absolute center of the empire, but as he stepped out of the gatehouse and into the freezing downpour, he knew he wasn't going back to the light unchanged. The Ghost had finally taken the throne, and the throne was made of bone.

"The transaction is cleared, but your beast looks ready to tear out the throat of the auctioneer," Freda Jimenez said, her combat boots keeping perfect time with my stride as we exited the underground vault. She was tracking the jagged flare of my aura, her eyes fixed on the heavy velvet case I was gripping against my tactical vest. "What is the tactical value of that crimson stone, Ronan? Why did your vanguard burn six million credits to force a concession from the outer-district scouts?"

At the base of the amphitheater stood the Moon-Stone. Unlike the raw shard in the archives, this was a massive, jagged obelisk of celestial crystal, nearly seven feet tall. It pulsed with a cold, pale light that felt entirely devoid of warmth. It was said the stone could sense the exact purity of Lycan blood; it would sing for royalty, but it would shatter the mind of an imposter by feeding their worst nightmares back into their skull.