The Red War Novels & Stories

The fall of the Winter Moon pack angered Agnar and that's when he began making moves to take the throne. He now was Alpha to the largest known pack. He began taking in warriors from the packs that did not have Alpha’s any longer. He ensured they pledged loyalty and if there was the slightest bit of questioning it he killed them. There was no room in this world for weakness and uncertainty. He wandered over the river bank, he had always found water relaxing and calming. He found himself staring down into watching the rapid current make small waves over the river rocks. Soon hopefully all this will be over. Alpha Derek was the only real threat these days. He had sent scouts to see if it was D

But he won’t know when to stop. When the cradle turns to a coffin, remember who warned you. L. I crushed the letter in my hand. Because that wasn’t a warning. It was a declaration of war. And I was done waiting for others to fight it. I entered the chamber uninvited. Again. But this time, I didn’t wear black. I wore red. Blood red. The color of war. The color of legacy. The color of queens who don’t wait for crowns—they take them.

Dax was already on him, vaulting off the tank of his own bike to deliver a flying kick that sent the man sprawling. The circle of Scavengers went silent. The Warlord on the rig stopped laughing. His red optical sensors zoomed in on the silver hawk patch on Dax’s vest a patch that hadn't been seen in these parts for six months. "Iron Wolves?" the Warlord hissed. "The Wolves are dead. The Red-Queen hunted them down." Dax froze. "Who is the Red-Queen?" "The ruler of the Neo-Vegas Citadel," the Warlord sneered, sensing he had struck a nerve. "She collected the bounties. Tank, Reaper, the Chen woman... she has their heads on spikes outside the databanks."

Jarek’s voice crackled through Kael’s comms device, sharp with adrenaline: “Movement on the western pass. They’re coming.” Kael’s heart thundered in his chest. “Hold your positions. Wait for my mark.” From the western edge of the ridge, dark shapes emerged through the morning haze. The Crimson Fang’s warband appeared like shadows cast in steel and blood. Their leader, a towering Alpha with jagged scars crisscrossing his face, rode at the front atop a massive wolf, his eyes blazing with cruelty. His pack’s banners—a tattered red fang against black—fluttered menacingly in the wind.

This was…the worst, most fucked up thing that I have ever seen. Wolves are fiercely protective of their own and what they claim as theirs, so war isn’t unheard of. Though war has never been brought upon my pack in my lifetime until now, we have been allies to others who have brought us into their war. We have trained all our lives. And some of us are military vets who have been a part of conflict. In Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq.

Nine Years Later Red. It is everywhere, drenching the room in its rich, provocative splendor. Red, like the taste of dark cherries and the burn of vintage wine. Red, like whispered temptations and silent threats lurking behind polite smiles. The color of love and war. Of passion and destruction. Of blood.

"We’re at war. We’ll grow up to kill them—your kind." Their words cut like jagged glass, each one a reminder of the centuries-old hatred that divided this land. My chest ached as I looked at the younger children, their hope slowly dimming under the weight of those harsh truths. This war between the red foxes and the werewolves had claimed generations, leaving no room for dreams. Red stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Enough, Leo."

“Red Claw’s war has come to their doorstep!” The rescued warriors let out a fierce howl that shook the foundation of the fortress. Lyssandra stepped up beside Kaelen, her armor spattered with enemy blood, her daggers dripping. “Red Claw reinforcements will be here within hours.” Kaelen looked out over his bloodied, liberated people as they armed themselves with Red Claw steel. “Let them come,” Kaelen said, his eyes burning with cold fury. “The secret is over. Toda y, the war for the North officially begins.”

“I want a team monitoring Declan. Don’t interact. Just observe. He’ll give us the sign.” Jarek frowned. “And what if he doesn’t?” Red smiled, chillingly slow. “Then I’ll carve it into his skin myself.” He exited the command chamber, coat billowing behind him like a curtain of blood. The war had officially begun—and the Redcross was done waiting in the shadows.

Having the red wolf compound also brought those who were just interested in living this close to werewolf history. When my mom, Raina, shifted into a red wolf for the first time over 20 years ago, she was the first red wolf to shift in over 200 years. The red wolf was profoundly significant for all werewolves. In addition to having special abilities related to the manipulation of emotions and behaviors in others, the red wolf also serves as a beacon of peace. Just having a red wolf alive was enough to bring a period of peace to all werewolves.