King Crimson Requiem Novels & Stories

“By silencing you forever.” He gasps, his face turns purple due to lack of air. I scoff. In a heartbeat, his neck cracks and the next moment, he is lying lifeless on the floor. One leech out. I look at his lackeys, whose legs are rooted to the floor, looking at me like they have seen a ghost. Well, not a ghost, a vampire to be honest. Well, seeing the vampire crown prince is a one-time affair after all. I smirk, and the next moment, they join their leader, Alan, on the cold floor.

Not now, not when she needed me as her pillar. “We are here today to break the Crimson curse by performing the Crimson sacrifice, which will reunite the scattered red wolf families,” Gladys began, addressing the crowd. “When the ritual ends, each of you will be able to perceive those you are related to by blood and find them if they’re here. For those outside the Royal Pack, you’ll have to look elsewhere. Please resist the urge to make a scene if you can’t find your family here. Is that clear?” The crowd responded swiftly, and then Aradia stepped forward. “The person whose blood and life are needed for this sacrifice is my daughter. I know how important this is to all of you, but I beg you t

Kira walked ahead with grim purpose, her eyes scanning everything—every tree, every footprint, every glint of metal buried in the frost. Valerie, ever the wildfire wrapped in silk, hummed quietly beside me, one hand resting on her holster, her other playing with the end of her braid. I wasn’t sure if the hum was to calm herself or to taunt Death. The bodies were waiting for us, strung like grotesque ornaments on the rusted iron fence, a chilling welcome from whatever bastard thought this would scare us. They failed. But that didn’t mean it didn’t piss me off. Three corpses, mutilated beyond recognition. Faces slashed and peeled back, skin branded with crude symbols, symbols that made my stom

"You said you’d see me! You said to kill him! How do I kill the dead?" Silence. The regal figure of her father did not materialize. The warmth was gone. In its place was a rhythmic, haunting vibration—a low-frequency hum that seemed to come from the very roots of the world. She turned, her breath hitching. Along the jagged, misty tree line stood a row of shadows. Dozens of women, draped in heavy, ink-black cloaks, their faces obscured by hoods. As one, they raised their heads. Their eyes were not just blue; they were burning, sapphire suns that pierced through the gloom. They didn't speak with mouths, but their voices began to weave together in a dissonant, ancient chant—the McKinnley Requie

Daemon was waiting in the upper room. He was wearing what he’d worn the day of his coronation formal clothes, red and black, the Ashford colors that marked him as belonging to a specific bloodline, a specific history, a specific destiny. But he’d removed the crown. There was nothing on his head except hair and the specific clarity of a man who’d made peace with ending. He looked up when Cassian entered, and something in his expression softened. “I was wondering when you’d come,” Daemon said. “Elara sent me.” Cassian moved to him carefully, the way a man approaches something that might shatter if touched too hard. “She said I should watch tomorrow.”

A recognition that lived below thought. The woman's eyes opened fully. Crimson. Not human. Deep glowing red lit from somewhere inside, burning steady and old and alive. Tyra stepped back. "Who are you." "You already know," the woman said. Her voice was warm and cracked at the edges like something that had been through fire and come out the other side. She moved forward, each step soundless on the black soil. Her crimson eyes moved over Tyra's face with a desperation that was almost physical. Like someone who had been kept from something for so long that seeing it again hurt. "You have always known."

High Priestess Selene lifted an ancient dagger carved from black crystal and presented it to the king with both hands. “The Crimson Vow requires the blood of the reigning king.” Lucien accepted the dagger without hesitation. Drawing the blade across his palm, he allowed several drops of dark crimson blood to fall onto the center of the altar. The instant his blood touched the ancient stone, glowing runes burst to life beneath his feet, spreading across the platform like veins of molten fire. A brilliant crimson light shot toward the heavens, swallowing the castle courtyard in dazzling radiance. The chanting intensified until it became almost unbearable. Above them, the Blood Eclipse consumed

A calming breath through my nose settled me and I cleared my throat. ​“Thank you for coming. Welcome to Tencrest Manor. Tonight marks the 200th year of the Crimson Accord. This season’s Crimson Ball focuses on the unity of the Founding Ten, those who helped build the Accord and continue to support its history and tradition. We have a busy month ahead of us. Events are scheduled for most nights and I encourage everyone to partake. Please do not hesitate to ask the staff, if you have specific needs. I look forward to pursuing another year of peace between our families.” I spare a look at Abigail who has retreated to her seat and am relieved to see her approving smile.