Diane Foxington Crimson Paw Novels & Stories

Her gaze dropped to her neck. At first, she didn’t recognize what she was seeing. The pale skin around her collarbone was marked by something that hadn’t been there before. A small, almost imperceptible birthmark—a crescent-shaped pattern—sat nestled just above her skin, hidden under the folds of her shirt. She rubbed it with her thumb, trying to make sense of it, but the sensation only intensified. Her skin seemed to burn where the mark touched, sending a cold shiver of unease down her spine. Lysandra quickly covered the mark, her heart racing in her chest. It was impossible. She had no memory of ever seeing it before, and yet, it felt oddly familiar—like a piece of her had been lost and wa

The author’s POV Shadows Before the Ceremony The weeks that followed were a blur of movement, each day sharpening toward the inevitable. The Blood Moon Palace thrummed with life, as if the very stones could feel the weight of the coming union. The Mating Ceremony Preparations Victoria-Ann oversaw every detail of the mating ceremony with the precision of a master tactician. Her voice echoed through the halls as she directed servants to polish silver and string banners, her keen eyes missing nothing. Fabrics of crimson and gold were laid out, threads gleaming like firelight, meant to honor both tradition and the rarity of the bond about to be sealed. Musicians rehearsed until their fingers ble

Still, it was enough to show other creatures that we werewolves weren't someone to be messed with. We also invited the Bloody Fangs. The Bloody Fangs was a group of strongest warriors without any ties to the 3 packs. Their most well-known warrior was their leader, The Crimson Warrior, who was also the most blood-lust warrior in the whole Lupo continent. His nickname came from the crimson helmet he kept wearing as he fought. I had heard that the Crimson Warrior himself would attend my ceremony. That made me wonder if he would wear his helmet or not. After all, no one had ever seen his face.

Crimson eyes, ancient and unreadable, watched the chamber below with effortless authority. She wore a fitted black gown embroidered with dark crimson patterns that resembled flowing blood. A long cloak draped behind her, disappearing over the steps of the throne. Beautiful. Elegant. Terrifying. She did not command through fear alone. She commanded because every vampire present knew she had survived long enough to earn it.

“Then it’s not just showing me what’s happened. It’s showing me what will.” Theo reached beside the table again and pulled out a second item from the leather folder. It was slim, bound in deep red linen, the corners worn with time. He hesitated before handing it to her. Her breath caught the moment she saw the title: The Crimson Letter By Isla Ward She stared at it, her hand hovering. “Where did you get this?” “I found it last year,” Theo said quietly. “Tucked behind the books in the library’s upper shelf. I didn’t know what it was at first. Just that it felt… wrong.”

When she looks forward again, Cameron repeats his brother's proposal. _______________ Under the gaze of my magnificent father and this noble court, I would like to ask your hand in marriage. I promise you, Celine Coleman. Accepted? ______________ I promise you, Prince Cameron Crowther-his voice comes out strangely high and muffled, contrasting with his hard appearance. - Accepted. - With a triumphant smile, Celine returns to her seat and Cameron does the same. His smile, though, is as hard as armor, but the girl doesn't seem to notice. Out of nowhere, I feel a hand against my arm, and fingernails begin to scratch my skin. I struggle to hold back the urge to jump out of my chair. She doesn't

The Fourteenth of April was the 'Crimson Paw Ask A Question Day.' This occurrence was held yearly where people within Crimson Paw questioned the royal Alpha family, be it plain, brutal, or even hair-rising. One of Ophelia's most dreadful days because she was always questioned about her inability to conceive a child. Always indirectly insulted and the old Finlay would chuckle or snicker in his seat because he found the pained look on her face amusing. Except this time, Ophelia knew things would be different.

" exclaimed Damon giving an eye roll . " I can't wear two dresses at a time Damon so there is no fun of buying them both .Tell me red or Black ." asked Cynthia . " You know how much i love red and specially bloody red ." exclaimed Damon smirking . " We are not talking about blood and I am not a snack for you to eat , now seriously tell me red or black ." snapped Cynthia . " Pink ." said Damon giggling . " What ...no way i don't like pink and i told you to chooose between black and red ..pink wasn't even the option Damon ." snapped Cynthia .

At Dylan PLC—a Dylan-owned company that had nothing to do with York Corporation, not even any business dealings. This was mainly because his company was not involved in any of the industries York Corporation was in. Dylan had just returned from a meeting and was at the door to his office when he heard a familiar but furious voice. “Dylan York!” It was Chameleon Fox. Dylan looked in the direction of the voice and saw Fox was wearing red. She was wearing something different, but it was still red as usual. He found her incredibly beautiful and moving when he saw her in her red attire at night but in the daytime, she was even more astonishing.