Crimson Widow Novels & Stories

“The crimson mark she is talking about. Months ago, before the Alpha ceremony, I saw Sienna wearing a talisman that had a red moon on it. I thought it was just jewellery.” “Crimson?” Maddox asks. “Yes,” Craig confirms. “But now... I remember. That colour, that mark—” “It’s a charm used in essence theft rituals,” Richard finishes, his voice dropping to a whisper. My eyes widen in horror. Maddox grips the back of a wooden chair, her knuckles white. “So she didn’t just manipulate Keegan...” Her voice is laced with a fury that matches my own. “She’s been bleeding your wolf dry.”

Crimson banners draped from the vaulted ceilings, embroidered with gold lions and silver wolves intertwined—a symbol of a union that was both a truce and a declaration of war against any who dared oppose them. Outside, torches burned in long, unbroken lines along the steps, lighting the path like veins of flame leading to destiny. Armed guards stood shoulder to shoulder. Above them, snipers scanned the rooftops. This wasn’t just a wedding; it was a fortress. Adriana stood in her private chamber before a towering mirror, dressed in a gown that merged two worlds. The bodice was a deep, royal red—Romano blood—embroidered with gold thread that caught the light like fire. The skirt was layered wi

Please let her be alive and safe. Rosella climbs up beside me, brushing my arm lightly. “You looked so pale before,” she says, her little voice trembling. “I thought something really bad happened to you and you wouldn't wake up even when Auntie Pat came.” Pat? Oh the healer. I manage a faint smile. “Did you forget who I am?” I tease softly. “I’m the Blood Widow who won against two hundred men. The witch of Oakwood. Nothing bad can happen to someone like that, right?”

As if Sarah were reading my thoughts, her face realizes and a naughty little glean shines out of the depths of her hazel eyes. "Nevertheless, here we are, two witches, amidst vampires. And single to boot with the whole year ahead in which to meet a bunch of sexy guys!" "You're going to teach me lots of spells to make them fall at my feet." Sarah looks at me sideways. "It doesn't work like that, Celeste.” "Too bad, I wouldn't said no to a harem!" "Admit that is what you came here to find the handsome guys at Ravenwood." We joke but I sense that it's only on the surface. Both of us are nervous.

She raised her second hand to fight me off and I grabbed it so that I was now restraining both her hands. “Hey, are you just going to watch as she assaults me!” Jennifer screamed at her lackeys. They rushed at me and as they did, I tossed Jennifer to the side to deal with them. The first one fell out to the side as I kicked her legs out from under her and the other one had her hands twisted much like Jennifer. “You seem to have forgotten who I am.” I smiled at the women who backed away from me. In the first place, whose blood flowed through my veins? It was the blood of a warrior. The Crimson Wolf! The Crimson Wolf did not birth a child who could not hold out against women who only knew how

I thought I knew everyone, at least from the face, but I was pretty sure I had never seen that woman before. “So she did come, after all,” Duncan murmured, handing me some apple juice, which almost looked like champagne in that elegant glass. “They are the Crimson, darling.” “Oh.” “She refused to come to these events for years, but now she even brought the kid,” he said, easily changing our conversation to our mindlink. In a room full of werewolves, you could never know who hears what. “That woman is Liz Montalvo, Luna and current leader of the Crimson pack. The boy beside her is her son, Lucas Montalvo, future Alpha of the Crimson,” he explained, nodding towards the boy.

His fingers were large, calloused, and hot. “You’ve been out in the wild,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the patch of dark curls visible beneath the sheer fabric. He wasn't judging, he was mesmerized. I swallowed hard, my core clenching in anticipation. “Yes. I was running.” “Running towards peace, you said.” He took his hand away quickly, as if burned. He retreated slightly, running a hand through his dark hair. “A Luna shouldn’t have to run.” “I told you before, I’m not your Luna, Jerry. I’m Max’s widow.” The words were automatic, a safety mechanism, but they tasted like ash tonight. I wanted him to argue. I wanted him to say I am your Alpha, and you are mine.

The Leviathan rose from the Red Sea like a floating kingdom—sleek, monstrous, and quiet. Lights shimmered across its seven decks. Security was everywhere—armed mercs, drones, facial scanners at every hall. The invitation-only auction was about to begin. And Kira—the Widowmaker—was already inside. She wore black, her hair dyed a rich auburn, her accent calibrated to an Eastern European noble with oil money. Her alias: Ivana Mirek. Everything from her fingerprints to her past had been fabricated by Vulture’s network.