The Crimson King Novels & Stories

We talked amongst ourselves, some conversations revolved around tomorrow, some were meaningless, and others were about how they missed home. I watched as Crimson stood off to the side, watching the darkness that enveloped our army. The werecat king was lucky Chakor found him and was able to heal him and he had been thankful that though Cambiador was once again in ruins, Tawny had survived, and his cubs were safe. “What do you sense Crimson?” Morgan asks, standing from her place beside Hunji and walking over to him. With hands on his hips his attention still on the darkness, he replies “I’m not sure.”

I watch it all play out on her face in the span of a heartbeat. The King raises a hand, regal and commanding. His voice booms from the gilded balcony above, echoing through the ballroom like the chime of a thousand bells. “Welcome,” he announces, “to the Crimson Solstice.” His speech is ceremonial, thick with old words and older meanings. He speaks of change, of harvest, of transitions... of life and death and rebirth. Of cycles turning once more. But I hardly hear him. I feel Lucian tense beside me. When the speech ends, the crowd applauds with polite reverence, and the celebration resumes... but not for us.

The Red room sounds so cliche but I hope it is not what I actually think it is because that room name is popularly common in one thing. The door swings in and immediately dim red lights glow from the ceiling, the black walls drink the light. They are chains hanging from the ceiling. Then I saw many other things. Whips, paddles, strange metal toys line shelves. A large wooden X-frame stands in one corner. In the center, a suspension rig with rings and cuffs. They are mirrors on every wall so I see myself from all sides. The room is exactly what I think it is. I would be bare soon and weak. The room smells of leather and oil. My belly falls and my knees tremble.

“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.”

Mason interjects “Is that Crimson was her mate until she rejected him. And this is where it gets complicated – Now, in order for her to be crowned queen she must have found her mate or taken a chosen male. Crimson is locked into a blood contract with Gillian, the daughter of an asshole Lord who holds many councilmen and other ranking lords in his pocket. At the end of Crimson’s yearlong contract to Gillian, if he wants to contest the right to the throne he must challenge Princess Tawny,” “I see…” Tristan processes. “So, either way, you have until the contract is up before you or this Kolby Crimson can effectively be named king or queen.” “Correct,” I state again. “And I thought Hunji’s situa

A maddened smile spreads across my face. “Send word to the hunters,” I command. “Every pack loyal to me. Every wolf who owes me a debt. Every shadow-born creature who dares to breathe my air.” The soldier swallows. “All of them, Alpha?” “All of them,” I say softly. “Tell them: The Crimson King has lost his queen.” I turn, eyes burning with crimson light. “And he wants her back.” The soldier bolts. Good. Fear fuels obedience and obedience fuels victory. I stare into the shattered villa, into the darkness beyond, into the unknown where she now exists.

The wound was closed, a neat, black-stitched seam cutting across his dark skin. "The stitches will hold," Isabella said, standing up and smoothing down her ivory gown, though her breathing remained irregular, her cheeks flushed with a faint, dark crimson. Dante stood up, his massive frame towering over her once more, the cold, professional operative instantly taking flight behind his eyes as he pulled a fresh black shirt over his torso. "Get your dark coat, signorina," Dante commanded coldly, stepping back exactly three paces to re-establish the boundary that had just nearly dissolved in the fire light. "The King is sleeping. Let's go steal his crown."

I tell him, frowning as I watch him reach his hand out to touch the crystal. Glancing back at me, Kai offers a small smile before he says, “and yet if I don’t you’ll grow old and die, as well the spirits and all immortal beings. And probably the planet too, right?” I glance aside unhappily. “So, I have little choice… if you think about it. Without the spirits, Hafgan claims my body and I’ll be nothing but a memory you have,” he continues with a whispered tone. I can tell he is afraid by the shaking of his words, but he knows as much as I do that this is the only way to bring things back to how they should and it isn’t as though they required his life - just his blood.

"Tell me all you know of Amara." Thalia begins to explain, her voice steady and filled with conviction. "Amara is unique, King Badan. I believe she is a hybrid—half wolf or lycan, mixed with witch's blood. If my suspicions are correct, she is the last descendant of the Crimson pack, making her royalty. It seems that she was bound as a baby to hide the immense power she holds within, and her counterpart was bound to never surface."

⸻ The image darkened. The Crimson One stepped away from his brothers. ⸻ Toward a glowing object hidden beneath the earth. ⸻ A crystal. ⸻ Dark red. ⸻ Beautiful. ⸻ Wrong. ⸻ The moment he touched it— Everything changed. ⸻ The vision exploded. ⸻ Darkness spread across the world. ⸻ Cities burned. ⸻ Wars erupted. ⸻ Entire kingdoms fell. ⸻ The Crimson One watched it all with fascination.