Crimson Widow Novels & Stories

CRIMSON “Do you know the story of the bloody werewolf rogue that was killed by his alpha? Do you know about that rogue that was hated by all of his pack and all the other packs that no one wanted him at all? Are you familiar with the story, child?” an old woman asked me while giving me a serene smile on her lips.

Domenik moved—closer, never touching, but every inch of him a barrier. “She’s not leaving with you.” The Widow tilted her head. “I never asked her to.” She leaned in, low enough for only Eirwen to hear: “Find me when you’re tired of letting men decide your price.” Then, louder, almost bored: “Run.” A crack split the stairwell. Gas hissed again. The Widow turned and was gone—slipping into the storm, a ghost made real by reputation alone. Chaos crashed back in. Boots. Orders. Guns primed for war.

She dressed in black, lifted her chin, and continued walking as though the weight on her shoulders belonged to someone else. She did not mourn the man who had built a secret life with Sophia Marino, nor the husband who had fathered a secret heir behind her back. She mourned the years she had blindly sacrificed, and the security that had vanished the moment Anthony’s car exploded into a ball of fire. The world thought she was a grieving widow breaking under the loss. They did not know that beneath her veil, her eyes were completely dry, hardened by a cold desire for vengeance.

All of them were wrong. "Welcome to the real Crimson Moon Academy," Director Frost said, her voice carrying despite the distance. "Or should I say, welcome to the birthplace of the new world." "Let them go," I demanded, indicating the tubes. "Let them go?" She laughed. "Dear child, they're already gone. These are just shells, genetic templates for the next phase. You stabilized the random transformations, yes, but imagine if we could control it completely. Design the perfect hybrid. Create soldiers, workers, breeders—"

Crystal bowed as a sign of respect before walking out on him. "Twerp" Red bellowed as he stood up from his seat and was about walking out. "What did you just call me?" She hurriedly grabbed his hand as she inquired while looking into his eyes. "Get your infected hand off me silly" Red reacted to her actions. "Oh no you didn't just say that!!"Crystal spoke out. "And what if I did Twerp??" he mocked as he stocked out his tongue to her face. Crystal who was angry grabbed his hair and dragged it like she was going to make him hairless.

Shre pressed the link and tears welled up around her eyes again. THE PROMISCUOUS BLACK WIDOW Apparently, Samantha Cameron still seems not to be contented in dating the dashing, billionaire Damian McLaren. Ever the promiscuous Black Widow, we found out that yesterday morning, she was seen supporting Senator Whitehall’s program at the cancer foundation that he is sponsoring. It is also one of the foundations sponsored by the widow. It looks like that she is still in a relationship with the lovely senator.

He leaned forward in his seat. "Seeing how certain you are, the rumours of him having The Crimson Arrow must be true." He said and she stiffened. He smiled. The Crimson Arrow was one of the five hallowed weapons that could kill an immortal. She opened her mouth to call his bluff when something hit the house and the very ground shook. Despite herself, she grinned. "They're here!" She ran for the window, expecting to see her fellow Spiders or Aremin himself but there was an army outside their doors.

Chapter 15: The Widow’s Second Wedding "White is for the innocent, Bianca. You’re wearing the blood I spilled for you." Dante’s voice rumbled behind me as the seamstress tightened the corset. I stared at my reflection. The dress wasn't the virginal silk my father would have chosen. It was a heavy, structured ivory that caught the light like polished bone, but the underskirt was a deep, bruised crimson. Every time I moved, a flash of red peeked out—a secret wound trailing behind me.

Death draws me towards it like we have been attached with an unbreakable string. Maybe it's just a superpower in which I get the last chance to save the person in front of me or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly a Crimson curse, as I like to call it. Through the years the number of deaths I have seen is greater than my age. You would think that death doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until 5 days ago.

Crimson declared with determination. That evening, Crimson made his way to the Queen's Courtyard, resolved to locate Elizabeth Everheart and confront her at last. However, upon reaching her office, he was surprised to find a different woman with dark hair and eyes sitting at the desk—the very same woman who claimed to have discovered Cleo in the cemetery. “Elizabeth is not here,” Sapphire Everheart replied in a cold tone. Crimson wondered what he had done to deserve that chilling reception. “Where is she?” he asked, unable to conceal the irritation he felt.