Velvet Crowe Novels & Stories

It was long enough for my legs to start tingling and the light to take on that unreal quality that meant my brain was trying to split off and float somewhere else. The door hissed. I looked up. He came in alone. No enforcers, no handler. Just Vaelen Crowe, in a crisp shirt with his tie loosened like he’d just finished a long, satisfying day on stage. He let the door seal behind him. The camera light in the corner blinked faster, adjusting to the new subject. “Lot One,” he said, like a man greeting a piece of art he’d commissioned. “How do you like your accommodations?”

When the crown was placed, when the vows were spoken, the roar that followed shook the very bones of the city. A new Beta pair was named alongside them—Rowan Ashford, steady and sharp-eyed, and Lyra Ashford, whose voice carried authority without cruelty. They bowed, pledged, and took their place without spectacle, content to serve rather than shine. And then the music began. The streets of Ancnix erupted into celebration—food, drink, laughter spilling out into every corner. Elora found herself swept along with her friends, pulled into dances she did not remember agreeing to, laughing harder than she had in months.

my body jolts, alerting me of an unknown presence; a witch – no, she’s more than that. An elderly woman stands opposite me, her honey-brown eyes gleaming into my own, “you look… familiar,” she smiles, her weight leaning on a rosewood cane. “And who are you?” I ask, my gaze flickering between Jaxson and Grayson, whose gaze bores into my own. “Oh, dear, where are my manners? I’m Crowe, here on official business for my Qusayr,” I crease my brows in confusion. If she is a Witch, then that would mean her Qusayr is Sophia. Why did Sophia call her here?

she dragged losing feeling in the right side of her body and she fell. He stood over her and cleaned his lip. “Muscle relaxant. Your skin must be so strong for you not to feel a sting”. “Pou...passhole….” she drooled onto the dirty ground. “Yeah” and he picked her up a little bit hard. The relaxant made her really heavy, and he dropped her onto the dumpster to stretch his back. There was no sound of approaching footsteps before he was tackled to the ground. And before he could react a cloth was over his nose and he was out.

Was there truly a traitor among them, working from within the school’s walls? Suddenly, a timid voice broke through the tension, drawing all eyes to its source. It was a young girl standing near the front of the crowd, her voice barely above a whisper. “M-my name is Leona Nightingale,” she stammered, her eyes wide with fear. “I-I am part of The Averrant.” Before anyone could react, Caleb’s katana flashed in the air, and with a swift movement, he struck down Leona. Shock rippled through the crowd as her body fell to the ground, blood staining the earth beneath her.

entities. I had chosen some of the bravest men from both clans---led by Oscar---to seek audience with the Coven's highest priestess. Her name was Corvina, a powerful witch who existed for almost five hundred years. Her tales were well known, and it stood as a wonder to me how not a single person had ever seen her closely. Surely, this was my luckiest moment. Two days had passed since I sent Oscar to Corvina's coven. I had feared for a moment that the mad witch must have done something with them. There was not a word from them, or a signal that they sought help. Just pure silence, and a hope that almost faded.

he spoke like a beaten kitten Instantly, she let go of his hair, her hand fell to the bed as if she'd been slapped but her gaze only softened for a moment before it hardened. “No. It's not my first time. I'm an Omega, you think I've spent my whole life dealing with this pain alone. I'm not a virgin, Rune.” Her wolf was sad that they'd disappointed their mate but Revna just wanted to get this heat done and over with but still, she was almost scared he would judge her, then get up and leave. That would only shatter the last bit of confidence she had on her body.

She stares out of the window, watching the streets grow nicer, taller, shinier as they climb. “So he’s heard of me,” she says, trying for casual. “Babe,” Sofia says, “he probably knows your national insurance number.” The lift opens straight into the penthouse. Glass is the first thing Layla notices—walls of it, wrapping around a living room that overlooks the city like it’s something to be surveyed rather than lived in. It smells faintly of expensive perfume and something darker underneath: leather, wood polish, a hint of smoke.

delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete delete

Still, I bought some yarn, intending to crochet him a scarf. Jonathan had always been so clingy, hardly ever leaving my side except when at work. To keep the surprise, I could only knit when he was away. A month later, with the cold settling in, I finally finished—a soft, sky-blue scarf. With a flourish, I wrapped it around his neck like magic. His face lit up with boyish delight. "You made this?" I nodded. Overjoyed, he kissed me lightly on the lips. "Thank you, Adam. With this scarf, I'll never feel cold in winter again."