Sam Crescent Novels & Stories

Their crescent rose and inside me awoke a hungering voice for release from shackles. My eyes hanged on him as he emerged from the darkness and met mine with his piercing blue ones. A surge of electricity went through my veins when his sharp outline came out of the dark into view, his rugged dress code – simple jeans and a blue polo shirt – only added to this mysteriousness; they looked like someone had carved them in granite, and he had strong cheekbones with a firm jawbone.

Frostine sat in the passenger seat, guiding Logan along the way. Logan drove away from Grimmjoll and headed straight to the Nimbusa Mountains. The Crescent Order was located at Avoncastle Tops, a peak over 2,000 meters above sea level in the Nimbusa Mountains. Few people usually ventured there, except for some mountain climbers and adventurers. However, the infrastructure in Corynthea was impressive, so there was not only a road leading there but also signal base stations. The Crescent Order had modern amenities, and the houses and household appliances were all built and installed by professionals hired by the members.

“Good. Serra and Thomas will stay with you. If anyone approaches who is not us, you three hide and send a signal. Do not engage. Understand?” “Understand.” We left at sunset, moving fast through the wilderness. The Crescent Institute was four hours away at wolf speed, located in a valley that offered natural concealment. As we approached, I felt my wolf’s hackles rise. Something about this place felt wrong. Tainted. The same sickly wrongness I had sensed around Morgana’s dark magic. “They are doing more than genetic research here,” I said quietly to Cassandra. “I know. I can feel it too. Dark magic. Corruption. They are trying to artificially create what we are naturally.”

Thorne set his duffel on the nearest bed and glanced at Celeste. “You didn’t have to give us the VIP treatment.” Celeste’s ruby-red irises sparkled. “After everything you two did at Crescent Moon? Consider it a thank-you. Plus, the board wants the Sanguis Draconis pair close to the training fields. Safety and all that.” Remy leaned in the doorway behind them, arms crossed over his Lakeside Rams letterman jacket. “Translation: they’re scared of what happens when you two get bored.” Celeste shot him a look, but her smile stayed.

I picture him outside in the snow, coat collar up, not looking back. My chest hurts. He was supposed to protect me, not trade me like a bag of coins. I feel small, alone, cold without his hand, even if that hand only ever hurt. We stop in front of one box. A small lamp on the wall gives dim yellow light. I look at the door. My breath catches in my throat. A crest is carved deep in the wood. Black wolf. Snow around its paws. Stars above its head. The Morozov crest. Even a child knows it. Even I know it.

Then humanity needed to change with it. At first, Husen worked alongside them willingly. He believed they were searching for a cure. For months they studied ancient blood samples preserved beneath the station. The samples behaved unlike anything known. They regenerated damaged tissue. They repaired cells. They adapted to foreign organisms instead of rejecting them. The researchers named it...Crimson Blood. Husen warned them repeatedly. "We don't understand it." Their answer never changed. "We'll never understand it if we're afraid to touch it."

Claris took the chair, said goodbye to us, and then Arsel drove off slowly. I looked at everything through the minivan’s window. The town of Crescent was beautiful, pretty, flower-filled, and full of life, color, and charm. It was a lovely place where boredom had no place. I looked at everything with interest: the large plaza, the band shell, the big school, the high school, the sanctuary, and the school for healers. It was a whole new world, and I wanted to learn everything about it. “My mother is an elemental healer,” Arsel explained, and I was surprised.

The heavy, intoxicating fusion of fresh strawberries, warm cream, and my sharp winter pine rolled over the concrete levels like a tidal wave, flattening every competing aura in the room into absolute irrelevance. The silver filigree crown of the Crescent Warriors sat dead center on the empty slate table at the high stone dais, its old lines looking completely dark and outdated under the new morning sun. The senior elders stood in a synchronized, rigid line behind the executive chair, their gray heads bowed low as they held the physical registers of our new jurisdiction.

The company was accused of plagiarism and infringement. Dana was not planning to stay idle throughout her stay in California so she decided to research about the CRUZ company. It was created by the Cruz couple and when Manuel died, Henry took over as the CEO. Dana had to confess that she had been hearing of the CRUZ company in the past years during her stay in Italy. Their works were distributed worldwide and sold in many different countries. Their designs were superb and so were the paintings which were made by their first son.

I felt my cheeks heat. Alpha Evelyn hummed in agreement, her gaze almost judgmental. I controlled Astrid from surfacing. I smiled. “Who said you don’t have other assets? And I mean material wise.” Everyone looked at me stunned. I continued when no one interrupted. “Crescent pack specializes in making handmade fabrics. I’ve heard a lot about it.” Even though it was a white lie, I saw Alpha Vector’s face brighten. “And Greenwood has one of the biggest libraries among all the packs around the world.” Alpha Evelyn jutted her chin proudly.