Crimson Witch Novels & Stories

She looked out over the wolves who had come to witness her crowning, seeing faces she knew and faces she did not, seeing hope and fear and love and uncertainty. I am not the Luna you expected, she continued. I am not the gentle mate who stands quietly at her Alpha's side. I am not the traditional leader who follows paths worn smooth by generations before. I am something else entirely. She paused, letting her words settle. I am the Crimson heir. I carry three thousand years of power in my blood. I have fought and bled and nearly died for every wolf in this valley. And I will continue to fight, to bleed, to die if necessary, for the future we build together.

I say holding a finger up to my lips, to tell Crimson to be silent. “I think you should come home, Tawny. It’s not safe for you in Cambiador.” I’m confused, a little shocked but mostly pissed, “Why the change of heart Hunji?” “I don’t trust Crimson. What he is.” “And what do you think he is?” Nobody outside of Cambiador, except Tolba, knew what Crimson was. Unless word had spread that quickly. “He’s a Skinwalker. A shifter that can change forms. Chakor has been posing as Tobias here in the Kodiak Kingdom as well as in Riocht.” Hunji begins to explain.

I pick it up and run my fingers over the hard moon sigil pressed on the cover. “Interesting...” I mutter, opening to the first page. It simply lists: Goddess, Lycans, Witches, Bloodlines, and Hybrids. My pulse quickens. I flip through the pages, ignoring the ones that have been torn out clean. The writing is cramped and old-fashioned, talking about cursed beings. “The Crimson-born are not of the pack, nor of the coven. They are independent and choose where they wish to go. Forged in the silence between the first howl, the Goddess’s tears, and the first spell. With their pale skin comes eyes deeper than the stain of blood.”

The brand glows red in the fire, waiting. Tears already burning my eyes. He walks around the bed slow. His eyes never leave me. “Tonight you stop being Volkov,” he says. His voice is calm and cruel. “Tonight you wear my name on your skin forever. Inside your thigh. Where only I will see. Where only I will touch.” I shake my head hard. “No. Please. No.” My voice cracks. As my tears fall hot. He pulls the iron from the fire. The wolf crest glows bright red. He kneels between my open legs. The heat reaches my skin before the metal does. He brings it close, I smell hot iron so I scream before it touches.

"Tell me all you know of Amara." Thalia begins to explain, her voice steady and filled with conviction. "Amara is unique, King Badan. I believe she is a hybrid—half wolf or lycan, mixed with witch's blood. If my suspicions are correct, she is the last descendant of the Crimson pack, making her royalty. It seems that she was bound as a baby to hide the immense power she holds within, and her counterpart was bound to never surface."

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.

“While they see disaster, I see potential. I am Alpha Xareth Morryn. Alpha of Crimson Dusk.” Crimson Dusk. Rhydan had spoken of them once, a twilight-born pack, bound by blood magic and dark legacies. “Come with me,” he offered, extending his hand. “Let me take everything from those who cast you aside.” I don’t know why my hand rose to meet his, why my fingers curled into his palm. But they did, and in that moment, I felt my wolf stirring. For the first time, she awakened but she didn’t emerge. Something held her back.

“That child in your womb is my blood, is it not? Yet I will sacrifice it for my own selfish gains and yours. I would go to any lengths to get what I want Crinka, even if it means murdering my own blood” “You’re a sick fuck. Why does it have to be me? Why not Nuella or even that stupid bitch Anita?” “The witches made it clear what they wanted. A red wolf. You were the only one available, so I had to get to know you once I saw you. I knew setting the clubhouse on fire would get me on your pack lands so I did it, not caring who got burnt along with it. I waited years for you to be born Crinka, that is why when your mother drowned you in that river, I saved you and had Izal heal you”.

“Why come to me now?” “Because the Crimson Warden hunts again,” the figure said, stepping closer still. “He knows what you are. What you’ll become. And he will demolish every kingdom to stop it.” The words hit her like a gust of cold wind. She swallowed, tasting dread. "Who is that?" She asked as the witch remained silent. “He sent that thing after me, didn’t he?” she whispered. “That… creature. The one with no scent.” The witch’s tone darkened. “That was a Hollowed Shade. A soul ripped from its tether, shaped into a puppet of rot and ruin. A curse given flesh. And he will send more. Stronger. Smarter.”

“T-They’re from the palace! A-another dwells on her Werewolves Pack lands- Her Alpha!” Having broken the oath of silence she’s sworn with her accomplices and whoever their leader must be, the Witch is set alight with deep purple flames that roast her into ashes instantly. Her throes die down and the Darkling replaces her in my infuriating grip. Breathy deep growls rumble out my lips like the smoke of death as they splay over his aghast face.