Crimson Thorns Novels & Stories

Throes of Love. Anissa shoved her past Jonas. He was standing in front of her, words were leaving his mouth but she was not listening. “Get out of my way, ” Anissa said as she walked past him. “You’re not allowed to be in here.” Jonas said, he didn’t want to make a mistake by touching her because the last time she came here, the man that taught to violently stop her paid for it. “Okay I’ll like to see you stop me. ” Anissa said as she made her way up the stairs. She didn’t waste anytime also. She didn’t care if Draven thought she was interfering now. She liked Chanel enough and she could be considered as a friend.

The Crimson Thorn Clan members entered a portal together, but out of the fourteen members, only eleven stepped out. Prince Quaddrintin looked around and saw that trees surrounded them. Those trees were joined together by shining black spider webs they hadn’t seen before. In fact, it was an odd colour for a web. Above, the sky didn’t have a sun, instead, there was a green orb-like moon. The sky was covered by fog that the green orb produced so this place; it had no sky.

Chapter 3. Subtitle: beach condor Crimson stared at the two people in the shower in disgust as tears rolled down her eyes, her boyfriend TJ was entangled in the shower, he was gripping and hugging a familiar lady in the shower, her eyes further widened the moment the lady turned her head, it was Kristen Xi who was her fellow band member. "Crimson get yourself together don't look like a fool!" She snapped to herself as she whipped out her phone, the two people in the shower didn't notice her as they were busy playing around with their naked bodies.

It was good to see them. Not long after, the Alpha of Crystal pack came over. I greeted him and asked about his Luna. She was resting back home was his response. I let him join Adam and Penelope in the living room. By dusk, Alpha Dion of the Crestwind Pack had crossed our borders. He had once been an enemy, years ago. But I knew the enemy of my enemy might yet be the foundation of a shared future. And then… one by one, they came. Alpha Riva of the Moonclaw. Alpha Thorne of the Eastern Ridges. A rogue leader named Vasha, representing nearly a hundred unaligned werewolves. All seated around my newly rebuilt council chamber—silent, tense, watching.

When rational herbalist Noah inherits his grandfather’s shop on the edge of the dark Blackwood forest, he expects a quiet life of cataloging rare flora,not monsters. But a routine foraging trip brings him face-to-face with Francis, the brooding Alpha of a declining werewolf pack. Intoxicated by Noah’s scent, Francis’s inner wolf immediately recognizes the stubborn human as his fated mate. Francis has sworn off mates to protect his territory, and Noah doesn't believe in fairy tales. But when a ruthless rogue attack destroys Noah's shop, he is forced into the protection of Francis’s secluded estate. Trapped in close quarters, their prickly friction quickly shifts into an undeniable, slow-bur

Crimson prayed silently. TBC

Selene cuts her hand first, followed by Octavia, Archie, and Dean. The blood mixed and came out of the bowl. Selene twisted her hand, and two identical crowns appeared. The crown is golden with red gemstones on it. It has three thorns coming out of it, but it confused me why there were two. The blood poured on the crown, and I can see the blood entering the gemstones and turning them crimson red. Selene looked at Dean, smiling at him.

“The Crimson wolves have always been in the FireHeart pack, because their flames and uniqueness comes from the same flames that emanate from the crimson throne.” “Can I ask a question, Doctor?” Minister Blackthorn asked suddenly. “You may.” “You spoke about survival of the fittest, how sure are you that the crimson rogue we showed you is not actually a crimson wolf but a generated one?” “The eyes,” Doctor Monroe said, his smile stretching. “The eyes never lie. A crimson wolf is made crimson because of its distinctive red color. This distinctive color is shown both on the fur, the eyes and hair. They have a characteristic pale white skin like snow. That is the characteristic of a crimson. If

Sparks flew with a deafening crash. Thorn roared furiously, and a brilliant light burst from his hand. "You've infuriated me. This is Holy Crane Fist. It's a Suppressing Technique that even martial gods are wary of. You're dead!" "Holy Crane Fist?" Chase's eyes narrowed. A ball of flame began to burn in his palm. He swung a punch the next moment and aimed it right at Thorn's chest. An explosion echoed in the air. Thorn screamed with pain as he flew off into the air. He was burned to a crisp all over. His chest had a dent in it, and many of his rib bones were broken.

Its obsidian teeth pulsed with a sickly indigo light that tasted of acidic ore and ancient rot. The harvest. I didn’t just plant the crop; I provided the ink for the scythe. My lungs seized. Every breath was a struggle against a throat filled with the phantom shards of five years of silence. I stepped forward, my boots skidding on the frost-slick stone, trying to shield Leo. The lasers simply climbed my white blazer, settling over my heart with a clinical, predatory indifference. Thorne stood at the center of his executioners, his white robes looking like funeral shrouds against the dark red glow of the abyss. He smiled, revealing rotting gums and a map of ancient greed.