Walking Red Flag Novels & Stories

Banners tied to saddles fluttered in the wind—red and silver, the colors of Bloodfang. The sight was formidable. Wolves on foot, warriors on horseback, moving as one. There was rhythm, harmony, and unity in our movement. It was not just a war march; it was a declaration of who we were. Bloodfang did not bow. Bloodfang did not run. And we would not today.

Adults engaged in various tasks My attention was drawn to a group of werewolves surrounding a figure of immense size and crimson hue. Their watchful gazes met mine, their primal instincts sensing my approach. Among them stood the majestic red wolf, a beacon of strength and authority. The red wolf's piercing eyes locked onto mine, and I could feel the weight of his presence as he began to approach me. His powerful strides conveyed a sense of dominance and confidence, his every movement radiating a primal energy that commanded respect.

Someone had broken the lock. He immediately opened the drawer and fished through the various papers that were stocked in it, when a specific paper caught his eyes. More likely a picture. He gently grabbed the picture and what he saw made his blood boil. It was a picture of Lily and Rose laughing together. To be honest it was a very lovely picture. What made his blood boil was the Red Cross drawn over it with a marker. Dante knew what this meant. Whoever it was, he knew about the girls.

This seems like alot of work for a warning system if you aren't going to use the system to at least check and see what triggered it. With our next blink, Evander makes it to the doorway. I try to follow, but my legs won't move forward the small step that it needs for me to make the shift from one reality to the next. Evander looks back, waving his arm forward, motioning me to follow. I am too far away to tell him what's wrong without screaming, so I point to my feet and signal that I'm stuck. He looks shocked, but then his eyes open wide with fear.

I could tell by their faces they were trying to piece together why that would have happened. We were watching the tree line when we saw a small wolf running as fast as it could with a blue flag in its mouth. I only noticed it because it was covered in bright red blood. It was a white wolf, one of the Crescent Moon Packs. Several more wolves came out of the tree line, some chasing it and some fighting with two other white wolves also covered in red blood.

CHAPTER 198: Bright Blue Maverick’s POV: We rushed back to the pack, the car driving directly to the scene. The car screeched to a halt, and we all got out to see what befell us. The RedClaw banner stood tall against the burnt ruins of the orphanage. Every second, a structure collapses, giving way as the flag blows victoriously against the small wind. “What in the goddess’s name,” I uttered, shocked that such damage could be caused in such a short amount of time.

“Found you” Walking ahead of us, she stretches out her hand towards a tree trunk and pulls out a red flag. “So red flags are the clue?” Zara retorts. “Well, you didn’t expect them to keep gold or dead bodies” Sebastian responds and I can’t help but scoff, still gripping onto my dagger tightly. The hair at the back of my head is still standing on edge from the snake earlier. I have a phobia for slithering creatures. Someone screams out behind us and we all turn to see Amber running towards us, something chasing after her.

That's really not how I want my story to end, thank you. But I hadn't had that concern with Arson. I keep waiting for red flags or a gut feeling that alert danger or I shouldn't be here, but I'm not finding them. Maybe I'm just misinterpreting red flags as green flags, but still, even his comment about not having women stay was honesty, painfully blunt honesty.

It’s felt. Eyes found us. Bodies shifted. Voices dropped. One look at Alaric’s armband and posture said enough. He had attended previous summits in my place. He was known. But he wasn’t the one they feared. It was the one in the middle. Hair fell over my eyes as I walked, not to hide, but to shield them from the stares. The red had always drawn attention, and attention always made people uncomfortable. I didn’t slow. Neither did the others. Remus walked with the quiet of a storm. He never spoke unless it was absolutely necessary. Alaric, on the other hand, was already scanning the place with sharp, practiced eyes.

"What the f**k are you talking about? Get in the damn boat, Abram!" "If I go with you, the hunt never ends," Abram said, his voice dropping into a low, jagged rumble. He stepped back, letting the cold water soak into his boots. "I’m a beacon for every 'Red Flag' psycho with a grudge against my name. As long as I’m near him, he’s a target. You take him. You go. I stay here and lead them inland."