Romans & histoires The Crimson Gardevoir

"Go on." The boys removed their masks one by one. "No way," "Boss?" "Adrian?" "Babe?" Zoe waved her hands in the air. "Wait a damn minute. So, let me get this straight, Chris, Jack, and Poet Wilder are Crimson Clan." "You can't forget about Apollo River, the Mafia King." Chris joked. "Oh no, we can't forget that." "And let me get this straight, Zoe Autumn, our Lead consultant. Sandra Pearl, our Corporate Broker. Nina Elizabeth, and Alicia Sun, our Ethical Hackers, are members of the most desired Ruby Tears."

"Survive? Isn't you who constantly attack the Crimson Mountain Pack?" His irises flared. "They live on the lands that are legally ours. They killed our people using false accusations, and they did it for one purpose only—money. Do you know what stands behind the great wealth of Scarletville? It's the jade mine. It's the only place in the world where you can find pure violet jade stones, which is an unbelievable source of magic. In the right hands, those stones could change the world, but in the hands of those dirty dogs, they're nothing but entertainment for sale. So, yes. We are planning to take what's rightfully ours. But it is a war, and it tends to be bloody. I don't want to kill innocen

He had known all along that their family was tied to something supernatural, something dangerous. The journal revealed the existence of a hidden society.—The Crimson Circle—a secretive group that operated in the shadows, monitoring supernatural activity and protecting the balance between realms. Her parents had been members, tasked with guarding a powerful artifact that kept the veil intact. But there was more. Lysandra flipped to a page where her father had drawn a detailed family tree. Her name was connected by a red line that spanned centuries. At the bottom of the page, her father had written: You are the last of the line, Lysandra. The prophecy is tied to you. When the time comes, you m

The grand chamber that housed the Crimson Heart was a breathtaking sight. Pillars of polished obsidian rose to meet the vaulted ceiling, adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to writhe and shift in the dim light. In the center of the room, upon a pedestal of black stone, lay the Heart itself. It pulsed with an eerie light, radiating an energy that both mesmerized and terrified Aria. Evangeline, draped in her crimson gown, stood before the Heart, her hand outstretched towards it. A malevolent aura emanated from her, crackling with dark energy.

ILANA. The Blood Moon Festival came five days too early. On the third evening, the moon bathed its eerie, crimson glow over the Nightshade Pack. This was an event rarely experienced and considered by the pack to be a sign from the Moon Goddess, hastening the fate of two destined mates. The pack was in an uproar of joyful frenzy. The whole of the pack square hummed with excitement, as though even the air vibrated in anticipation. I faltered at the door to Rana's small cabin and brushed off invisible lint from the pale blue dress that Rana had lent me for tonight. "Rana, are you sure about this?" I asked, trying to keep the nerves from edging my voice.

"She'll fight us." "Then we'll fight her," Thelma said grimly. We moved out within the hour. ++++++++++ Crimson Dawn's new headquarters was a converted military base, massive and heavily fortified. Hundreds of Ascended soldiers patrolled the perimeter, their enhanced senses making stealth nearly impossible. Nearly. I channeled Morgana's magic, weaving an invisibility field around our team. It wouldn't last long, but it gave us the opening we needed. Riley led us through the defenses, her hybrid senses detecting patrol patterns before we encountered them. "Three guards ahead, rotating every two minutes. Window in forty seconds."

“But I’m not letting some ghost in lipstick steal my kill and walk away like a fucking legend.” I stood, crushing the cigarette under my heel. Amara Voss. The Revenant. I didn’t care if she was a myth, monster, or martyr. I would find her. And if she wanted war, I’d give her one she’d never forget.

That night, Anthony's mother, the ever-so-sweet Camila Morentti, held my hand and asked with a warm smile, "Sweetie, this is your home now. What would you like for a wedding present? You name it, and it's yours." Before I could even think of an answer, Anthony chimed in, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he gazed at me, "Mom, let's give Isabella the hot spring retreat up on the mountain! She can't stand the cold, and it'll be the perfect cozy spot for her in the winter. Plus, it's great for her health." Camila agreed without a second thought. Anthony remembered how much I hated the cold. Sebastian remembered, too. That was why, in what felt like a previous life, he used my deepest fear in

a deep, booming voice commanded from the mouth of the alley. Nomo turned his head slightly. Standing there, silhouetted against the neon red light of the Crimson Chalice, was Somito Hargreaves. The old trainer looked different. He wasn't wearing his usual leather armor; he was in a simple grey tunic, his arms bare and corded with muscle that seemed to thrum with a hidden energy. He didn't have a staff. He had nothing but his bare hands. "Hargreaves? Get out of here! You’re human, you can’t take these things!" Nomo shouted, even as he parried a strike from the creature in front of him.

~~ The Warden was already moving, shouting orders, Keepers falling into formation around the chamber's perimeter with a speed that told Alvar exactly how badly this had just gone from concerning to catastrophic. "Crimson," the Warden said, tight, urgent. "Every account I have ever read describes gold at this stage of the Trial. Crimson has no place in it. Crimson means something else has entered the ritual." He turned toward his Keepers. "Defensive formation. Now. If whatever this is decides to reach beyond that boy, I want every blade in this chamber ready before it does." ~~ Alvar reached for the bond, desperate, pressing everything he had toward whatever thread still connected him to Caie