Sleepless King Crimson Novels & Stories

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."

But now, they were trembling. Lucian's grip tightened on her arm, and she turned to look at him, her heart pounding as she saw the anxiety etched into his features. "What’s happening?" she asked, but he didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed ahead, and Cassia followed it. Inside the king’s quarters, the sight that greeted them was something out of a nightmare. The king, once a towering figure of strength, was now crumpled on the stone floor, his body unnaturally still. His skin was pale, lips tinged with an unnatural shade of blue that seemed to reflect the death in his eyes. His once-pristine robes were stained with dark marks, a twisted symbol of the poison that had claimed his life.

He could not, and would not, leave a single flank exposed. Because right now, the King was bleeding. His navy suit was gone, replaced by a dark tactical shirt. His steel-blue eyes were dead, devoid of any humanity, staring at the phone in his hand like a man waiting for his own execution. He was ready to burn the entire city to the ground, to wage a war that would drag every syndicate into the abyss, just to find the woman who had stolen his cold, ruthless heart. Suddenly, the encrypted military tablet held by Cain in the front seat let out a violent, high-pitched ping.

Nurul Islam stroked Abrar's hair and began: "Once there was a king. His son was very honest. His grandson was even more honest. One day, the uncle came and said, 'I want the throne of the kingdom. If you want to save your grandson's life, you must fight...'" The room grew dim; everyone's eyelids grew heavy. But Arian knew—he would have to stay awake through the night. Because old enemies do not sleep, and they were now running after Abrar.

The Lord’s hands were up to the elbows in blood, and the entire perimeter of the floor of the room was covered with scarlet liquid. Vladyka did not immediately realize that he was no longer alone. A faint splash distracted the king's attention. Frozen for a moment, Vragenn turned sharply and met his gaze with bottomless, dark eyes without pupils. They reminded him of the night sky during the new moon. The pale face was hidden by short, uneven strands of black hair.

He looked like a king. “I, Rose, Queen of the Rogues, hand you the ruby crown-making you the rightful ruler and only ruler of vampires,” I roared so everyone in the silent night could hear, “And I decline the position as your queen, rejecting you as my mate.” As the last word left my lips, the crown glimmered and hummed. The red rubies shinned. Accepting Nikolas as their new rightful king. Then, smiling, I look at him sadly. “I’m sorry I destroy everything. I’m sorry I hurt you. So now I’m returning to you something. You and I shall never cross past ever again,” I said as I bow and turn to leave.

I could tease him all the time. "Why you... Little..." "What?" I gave him a look. "What's going on here?" we were stunned when we heard the King. He's in the back of my two beloved cousins. "Uhh..." "King Damian... we were just congratulating Crystal, right Theme?" Chris reasoned nervously. The King looked to the both of us. "Ah yeah, I'm happy that the new Alpha happens to be Crystal," Theme is really something, he is using his blood to blind everyone with his lies.

He looked impossibly young, perhaps mid-twenties, with sharp, aristocratic features, a jaw covered in light stubble, and dark hair that fell messy across his forehead. But his eyes were what froze the air in my lungs. They weren't amber like Colton's. They were a piercing, molten crimson. "The Lycan King," I whispered, pulling my knees tightly against my chest. My voice was raw, trembling with instinctual fear. Every wolf grew up hearing horror stories of King Kaelen—the ruthless ruler who broke Alphas for fun and ran the most brutal territory in the northern hemisphere. Kaelen swirled a glass of dark amber liquid in his hand, his gaze tracking every micro-movement of my body. "You know who

"Why are all of you here?" An elderly woman got up. Her eyes glistened like showers of silver. "The Crimson Star has been spotted in the sky. The Voice has been heard by us. The King of Crimson has risen. I gave a headshake. She is a newborn. Only a baby. Don't refer to her that way. However, they continued. Softly at first, they started chanting. "The Crimson King... The Crimson King..." With his sword at his belt, Killian hurried over to join me. "Retrench yourself. We wish to avoid any problems.

Opening it, he revealed a slender choker made of interlocking black diamonds, centered with a flawless, teardrop-shaped crimson ruby. "A gift," Alexander rasped, his eyes locking onto hers with unshielded possessiveness. "To match the crown you're taking back tonight." He stepped behind her, brushing her hair aside. The cool touch of the black diamonds rested against her warm collarbone before he fastened the clasp. His lips lightly brushed the sensitive skin just below her ear, sending a intoxicating spark coursing straight down her spine. "Let's go buy what's yours, Victoria," Alexander murmured near her ear