King Crimson Requiem Novels & Stories

The elders were in position. Everything was ready. Everything except.. Them. Ryan and Crystal. There they were. Crystal emerged first, stepping into the ceremony like she was born for this moment. She was dressed in deep crimson, the silk catching the light, flowing around her like liquid fire. She was glowing,radiant, triumphant. And at her side.. Ryan. Dressed in dark ceremonial robes, the embroidered silver sigils of his lineage stark against the black fabric. A crown of iron and bone rested against his brow, a symbol of his place, his power, his duty.

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.

“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.”

Zafira's red teary eyes again brimmed with tears, "This is my end. End of my life. End of my freedom. End of my love. End of Azrael's CRIMSON" ... Thank you ShineeSunshine ♥️

"Aquamet Ignam. Per Teram at Erem Peripheco at Consecratet. Revoke at Revivae with Spiritus. Vineat at Corpus. Resurgent at Quod Perditum Est Restitutor. Elody Moonborn!" Odessa screamed, and there was a loud crash.

Levi said in a whisper voice Azrael and Lexi both jumped down from the vent following Levi. What welcomed them was the stinky dungeon. The stench of body odor and dried blood lingers through the air and Azrael was just trying her best not to vomit. The smell made them nauseous but determination took over. They all looked through the cells of the dungeon. They were wolves from the Crimson Crest pack, lying down without strength. At first glance you might think they are dead but they are not. They are only covered with their own blood and sweat but they are still breathing… barely alive.

She arches violently at my bite, crying out as I drink her blood, the sweet liquid exploding across my tongue. Fuck. It's richer now and laced with my own essence, power, her rebellion. And sweet, filthy desire. While I feed, I keep fucking her in deep, rolling strokes, every blood pull from her vein matching every thrust of my cock. Blood and sex. The most sacred Nyxris ritual. She is shaking beneath me, her legs wrapped tight around my waist and pulling me deeper. “More,” she whispers before she can stop herself. I release her neck with a wet pop and lick the wound closed, tasting her blood again on my lips.

“I know.” “You can tell me to stop.” Jamie looked at him. Really looked. The scar. The control. The restraint that felt like it was holding something dangerous in check. “I don’t want you to stop,” Jamie said, then winced. “I mean….” Adrian didn’t smile. He didn’t gloat. He just nodded, like that answer fit into something he’d already decided. “Good,” he said. Behind them, unseen but aware, La Corona Nera watched. And after midnight, Bar Della Luna closed its doors, keeping its secrets, for now.

He slowly turned toward Lyra. “…someone broke the Final Seal.” ⸻ The Crimson Queen didn’t answer. She lowered her eyes. That silence was enough. ⸻ A violent tremor shook the cathedral. The enormous crack beneath the shattered altar widened. Black smoke poured upward. Unlike the crimson mist from before… This darkness consumed light itself. Torches dimmed. The blue glow of the Oath Blades weakened. Even the crystal fragments of the Crown floating around the brothers began losing their brilliance. ⸻

he whispered. He closed his eyes. The bond between them was faint but not broken. Somewhere, deep inside him, the tie tugged like a string of magic and memory. But so did something else. A pulse. Slow. Heavy. Evil. The Crimson Order had begun to move again. --- The Crimson Order Hidden beneath the ruins of the ancient city Valemourne, a place untouched by time and cursed by blood, the Crimson Order gathered in silence. Candles burned with black flames. The walls were etched with old prophecies, written in the tongues of demons and dead kings.