Crimson Thorns Novels & Stories

************************************************** Suddenly, the manor’s alarm pierced the quiet. A shrill, mechanical scream. Red lights filled the corridors. Sergio’s phone buzzed. He picked it up and answered after listening for a while. “Where?” Marco’s voice crackled through the speaker. “West wing breach. There’s a symbol carved into the wall.” "Which family?" Sergio demanded angrily. "De Rossi, sir. I think the groom finally grew some courage." Rosana’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the man she had almost married. So he hadn't given up?

That night, Anthony's mother, the ever-so-sweet Camila Morentti, held my hand and asked with a warm smile, "Sweetie, this is your home now. What would you like for a wedding present? You name it, and it's yours." Before I could even think of an answer, Anthony chimed in, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he gazed at me, "Mom, let's give Isabella the hot spring retreat up on the mountain! She can't stand the cold, and it'll be the perfect cozy spot for her in the winter. Plus, it's great for her health." Camila agreed without a second thought. Anthony remembered how much I hated the cold. Sebastian remembered, too. That was why, in what felt like a previous life, he used my deepest fear in

Levi said in a whisper voice Azrael and Lexi both jumped down from the vent following Levi. What welcomed them was the stinky dungeon. The stench of body odor and dried blood lingers through the air and Azrael was just trying her best not to vomit. The smell made them nauseous but determination took over. They all looked through the cells of the dungeon. They were wolves from the Crimson Crest pack, lying down without strength. At first glance you might think they are dead but they are not. They are only covered with their own blood and sweat but they are still breathing… barely alive.

Crystal retorted back, “Did you think I was playing with you?” “Of course not, you looked so serious. How can you be playing with me?” Crystal tried to pull her hand, but Kian didn’t let her. It came to the point where it seemed like Kian and Crystal were playing tug of war, with her wrist the object they were playing with. Crystal got angry and injected powers to her wrist, making thorns appear and prick Kian with it. With how poisonous her thorns are, Kian instantly let go of her and held his hand.

“You run. Then shoot. Then run again.” Nightfall came heavy and fast. Inside the barn, Kael lit the central brazier, tossing in dried herbs that smelled like pine and smoke. He unrolled a map across the floor Hollow Creek, the town, the forest, the valley. “The Thorns have outposts here,” he said, pointing. “They’re not a pack. They’re a hive. Led by Saris Thorne.” Lyra added, “She was once a Pact matriarch. Broke her oath. Took followers. Said the Pact made us weak.”

's silence that grew deeper each day. The Cursemaker waited in the center of a circle of thorns. The thorns were massive, black as midnight, twisted into shapes that hurt to look at directly. They reached toward the bleeding sky like desperate fingers, and I realized as I drew closer that they weren't just thorns they were made of crystallized pain, of suffering given form and substance. Each one hummed with its own note of anguish, creating a discordant symphony that made my bones ache. He was just as I remembered. His eyes were hollow voids, filled with unspoken screams that echoed endlessly in the depths of his skull. The seams on his chest writhed with every breath.

Mason’s jaw tightened as he regarded his sister. “I did,” she responded, strolling in. “But I’m back. Obviously.” “And Kaden?” She stiffened, her eyes darkening. “What about him?” Mason didn’t press it. No one did. My eyes lingered on the little girl with her. She had pale blonde hair and eyes so white, they rivaled mine. I looked away. “The Crown of Thorns was not forged as a gift,” I went on, ignoring the pressure against my forehead. “It was wrought from divine wrath and bound with the breath of the goddess herself.

This morning, I'm still so worried. I didn't get much sleep! I kept having horrible nightmares. In some, I was being chased by a family of zombies through the manor house, in others, I was the Bathory's meal. This food thing is really getting to me. All the little details I've put together is making me reflect on the nature of my hosts. And on the darkness surrounding them. I see Sarah coming to meet me. She looks more rested than I am. It's not very surprising considering...

The ink is still fresh, the skin around it very pink. He’s a new member. “Brotherhood,” Thorne spits, “Just like I thought. Should have known. Damn, mercenaries making dirty blood money off of both sides. Witch hunters for the wolves, wolf slayers for the witches, and using both our magic for their twisted sense of purity.” He kicks Zion’s now still form as he dusts himself off. “Fucking parasites.” What has happened in Thorne’s life to make him hate so strongly? Seeing my continued distress, Thorne stands a little straighter, his expression softening as does his best to comfort me.

To make me bleed to death as vengeance for all the people killed by my kind? His eyes bored into mine, then his lips touched mine, stealing my breath away, and even though I was frightened, I could still feel his touch wakening a familiar hunger in the pit of my stomach as I gave into the kiss, but then before it even started, his lips left mine again. I watched a little dazed, as he drew blood from his own palm with his claws, then he stepped closer. There was slight compassion in his eyes, but almost immediately, they faded and his eyes were terrifyingly cold once again, then he placed his palm over my neck. PERCY