Guy Crimson Novels & Stories

The candles went out. Author’s Note - The Crimson Veil began as a late-night idea about what might happen if logic met temptation in its purest, most dangerous form. Evelyn’s curiosity is my own: the need to understand what we fear, even when it leads us somewhere we can’t easily return from. This story mixes gothic atmosphere, mystery, and forbidden connection—a slow burn between intellect and instinct. Every chapter was written and refined by hand, inspired by old literature and the darker side of human emotion.

She smiled, “her wolf is one that needs a strong human, not just anyone can control Crimson.” My eyes darted to her and then back to the road, “Crimson, as in blood, fire and brimstone, that type of Crimson?” She sat up straight, “why would you think like that and not that it is just the color red.” I shrugged, “Angel remember, I always think that type of stuff first,” I gave her a shy smile. She nodded, “it doesn’t matter, Crimson is gone with her, unless she is now with someone who didn’t have a wolf.”

I looked like a dwarf beside him although I am taller than other girls, as I am five feet seven inches. “I am asking what your name is…” he said in his cold tone and I felt stupid in front of him. I thought he was staring at me but he was just waiting for my answer about my name. I breathed out heavily. My rating for delivery will go down from one to zero because he doesn't seem happy with my delivery service. Oh, shit*! “My name is… my name is... Crimson.” There! I gave him my name! I don’t like my name at all. How I wish that the orphanage named me Red or Scarlet and it was much better than Crimson.

he called to the two who were still sparring. I saw their faces for the first time as they came towards us. The girl had a coffee black skin and her hair was braided into two long ponytails reaching to her back, while the boy was fair, short and stocky. They arrived sweating and breathing hard, with two long knives held loosely in their hands. “This is, Toke, a white witch and the last witchlord,” Oniko introduced me to them. “Toke, meet Chike, a Black, and Ramatu, Red. They are fellow witchlords like you.” He pointed first at the boy, and then the girl.

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.

“But I’m not letting some ghost in lipstick steal my kill and walk away like a fucking legend.” I stood, crushing the cigarette under my heel. Amara Voss. The Revenant. I didn’t care if she was a myth, monster, or martyr. I would find her. And if she wanted war, I’d give her one she’d never forget.

"I thought maybe you only came because you wanted to kill the Vampire chick, and I was just lucky I hadn't gotten all my juices drained before you showed up." I smiled to myself. He did have a point. Sometimes, I wondered what drove me more, my hatred for Vampires, or my desire to save humans. "So I get it -- you're the Blade around here, aren't you?" He asked, extending a hand, and I shook it. "I'm Ryder. Ryder Keets." He added. I nodded, but did not tell him my own name, and I guess he knew better than to ask.

“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

Aldric’s hand found hers instinctively, his grip warm and steady. The bond flared with protective intensity. “He won’t get near her,” Aldric said firmly. Marcus studied him carefully. “You’re her mate.” “Yes.” The Alpha of Crimson Hollow nodded once. “That helps.” Regina blinked. “How?” “Blood Moon wolves are strongest when bonded,” Marcus explained. “The connection stabilizes their power.” She looked down at her hand still clasped in Aldric’s. The bond pulsed warmly. “So the mate bond…” “…may have awakened your abilities faster,” Marcus finished.

Nakangiting pagpapaunlak ko at inalalayan si Crimson papasok sa entrance ng venue. ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································