Red Crown Books Novels & Stories

Hopping the answer would be yes, I flipped to the introduction, the much-needed hope fluttering in my chest as I read. “From their temple origins to their violent renaissance in the Bloody War that birthed Henosis, Crowns of Shame have a complex past mixed with hope and cruelty alike. Despite its variety of intents and shapes, one thing remains the same throughout its history: the scar-tissue that defines it.” I flipped through the book, deterred by the word “scar-tissue”. I stopped at a page with a grotesque image of a man on his knees as someone carved a line across his forehead.

Once I read its title, I was able to release a breath I didn't know that I had been holding. ‘The Annals of the Crown’ was marked into the leather cover in a royal golden font along with some ancient inscriptions I wasn’t quite familiar with at the bottom. “It’s a book that traces your lineage?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. Zain shook his head. “It’s more than that. It holds the secrets of the crown as well, and I’ve been opportuned to go through this very book a good number of times to understand what Helene’s Mark entails, redhead.”

Fuck! “My name is Kellina and I am the Crimson Priestess.”

motioning towards the house and obscene amount of wealth, “and not having anyone to share it with beyond my siblings and their toys has left me feeling unfulfilled in a way.” I imagined birthday parties here at Tencrest Manor. Bounce houses and screaming kids. The chef catered kid centered food. Undoubtedly private schools. It didn’t seem terrible. We would be happy here. “Tell me about the other Crimsonborn? What are they like?” She touched her belly, trying to imagine it growing in the next few months. I get excited at seeing her touch her own belly. The possessiveness in my growled at the thought. I was happy to share the positive experience I had with other Crimsonborns

The city lay cradled between stone cliffs and frozen pines, cloaked in mist and moonlight a neutral ground carved from old treaties and older blood. Even here, I could feel the tension in the air. Wolf-shifters moved through the streets in wary silence. Some bore the white tattoos of the Highland Clans, others the storm-gray brands of the South. They nodded as I passed, respectful, but wary. I was Frostfang, northern royalty and a healer in a world that only valued warriors. My wolf stirred beneath my skin. Something is wrong, Nemphis whispered. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t afford to listen to instincts, not here, not now. I looked up and admired the Hall.

A book with a leather binding. No diamonds. No large sums of money. No secret weapons or blueprints. Just a book. I felt stupid for a moment. Then I reached in and took it out. The weight of it was substantial and firm. The spine was strengthened with old thread and the leather has become smooth with use and age. I had never seen a single crest stamped on a cover before. A crown, dagger and an ember. All three combined to form a single horrifying symbol. I took my place at the desk and got it open. and started reading.

You creatures thought all the relics were destroyed except for The Crown, but you were all very mistaken. "The book of Creation has been in the position of the Original witch family for centuries now," the leader responded. "That's not true! We would have felt the power if it still existed!" Robin was quick to say. He did not want to entertain the thought at all. After all, those relics have brought more harm than good. As he rolled his eyes, the leader let out a deep sigh, and then spoke, "To keep the power hidden, the book was spellbound, Prince Robin."

He told to help myself to whatever book I may want to read and he took his seat behind his desk, writing away on a parchment with a quill pen. I schemed through ledgers of the books, reading titles that were written in languages I did not understand. All the books were red, except for a particular purple one. Curious, I picked it and read the words written on the hard cover; ‘Lobo’ was the single word that was inscribed into the thick cover.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts as this is certainly a change in events that I didn’t expect to happen. “What do you think of Alpha Black and the Crimson Dawn pack?” Every pack has rumors about them. Most of the time those rumors are made up to make the pack sound like they’re a bunch of bad asses so certain wolves end up desiring the pack while others stay away. Sometimes, like the rumors of Red Fang, they end up true.

I hold the box out for everyone to get a good look. “I’m with Him on this,” Crimson points to Mathias, “King Crimson, can you sense magic?” The worried voice of Althea joins the conversation. “I can. It’s been touched by old magic. Like, really old magic… I only it’s strong,” Althea asks Crimson another question, “Does it feel, wrong?” “If you’re asking if it’s good magic or bad magic, I have no idea. I just know you don’t mess with magic like that. Period.” Crimson crosses his arms, and the stern look on his face says; ‘he’s not budging’.