Crimson Shadows

Long before history was written, shifters and humans walked side by side, their worlds intertwined beneath the same moon. They hunted, built, and loved as one people—until fear split them apart. Forced into the shadows, the shifters vanished from human memory, fading into myths and bedtime stories.

Now they walk unseen among the world—lawyers, doctors, teachers, celebrities, and magnates. To the human eye, they are ordinary. To each other, they are the remnants of an ancient legacy, of wolves who run beneath the midnight sky by night.

The world believes they are gone. The shadows knows some secrets were never meant to stay buried.

The call came at midnight.

Elijah Ackerman was halfway through his run along the northern ridge when his phone buzzed. It was Andros—his brother, his beta, his second-in-command.

“It’s urgent. Come to the warehouse. Now.” The urgency in Andros’ voice didn’t sit right.

Ten minutes later, Elijah pulled up to the edge of the hidden gravel path just beyond pack lands. No one was supposed to know this warehouse existed—not humans, not other packs, not even all his wolves. It was for secured weapons, classified assets, and buried secrets.

And now, it was a crime scene.

Smoke still hung in the air like a ghost.

“What the hell happened?” Elijah asked as he stepped inside.

Andros stood over the body—or what was left of it.

Blackened bones. Charred flesh. A faint smell of scorched fur mixed with ash. It had been hot—supernatural hot. Too clean to be random. Too precise to be human.

“It’s not one of ours,” Andros said. “At least, not that I can confirm.”

“No trace of the killer?”

Andros shook his head grimly. “Whoever did this burned the body so thoroughly we can’t get DNA. No scent. No residual magic.”

Elijah crouched near the perimeter of the blast. A perfect circle. A warning, not an accident.

“This was a message,” he muttered. “Someone’s pushing into our territory.”

Andros hesitated. “You think it’s someone we might be enemies with?”

Some names hit like a hammer to Elijah’s mind.

Cronus Fox. Human corrupt tycoon.

Peyton Dunn. Shifter Shadow broker.

Friedrich Kerr. Shifter Arms dealer. And the reason Elijah had fortified every inch of his pack's borders for the past six months.

The list could continue but he decided to stop.

“If it is one of them,” Elijah said coldly, “just made this personal.”

Hunter Creek Condominiums

“I’m not doing it, Cronus!” Valerie shouted, standing in the middle of her stepfather’s opulent living room, rage burning behind her eyes. “You can’t sell me off like property. I’m not part of your weapons deal.”

Cronus took a slow sip of whiskey, lounging in his silk robe like the villain he was.

“Fitz Mugler is powerful and he wants you. Marrying him secures a lifelong alliance.”

“I’m not your bargaining chip!”

“No,” he sneered, setting down his glass. “You’re a mistake. A freak. Like your mother. Like your father. Like your brother. Like every filthy wolf in your bloodline.”

Valerie froze.

“You never loved her,” she said, voice trembling.

He stood. “I married her because I thought I could break the freak out of the family name while securing her fortune. Instead, I got you.”

The slap came fast. Hard. Her cheek stung. But Cronus wasn’t done. He hit her again. Fists this time. Knuckles.

Brutal.

She dropped to her knees, ribs screaming in pain, blood filling her mouth.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” he hissed, kicking her down. “You think being a freak wolf lawyer makes you powerful? You’re still a mutant. Still a cursed half-breed. You’re nothing without me.”

Her vision blurred.

But her wolf had had enough.

A guttural growl echoed inside her skull. Power surged from her core, snapping bone and shifting

muscle. Her body convulsed—and then shifted.

Claws. Fangs. Silver fur.

Valerie’s wolf erupted with wild, primal strength, shattering a glass door and launching her into the night.

She didn’t look back.

She just ran.

Highway – Lower Hunter Creek Trail Bridge, Aspen

Elijah hadn’t planned to drive tonight. But his wolf was restless. Agitated.

Something was pulling him—so he took his Aston Martin DBX S, let the road clear his mind.

Then he saw her.

A body. Lying half-curled by the curb, trembling. Naked. Beaten. Bleeding.

He slammed the brakes, leapt from the car, and crouched beside her.

The moment he touched her shoulder—The bond hit him.

Like lightning, like fate his wolf snarled to life. Mate.

Pain shot through his ribs—not his, but hers.

He could feel it. Ached with it. She whimpered, unconscious, her skin pale, lips cracked.

She was shifter. Not from his pack. But unmistakably tied to him.

He didn’t waste time.

He wrapped her in his jacket, lifted her into the passenger seat, and turned the car toward Crimsonhowl territory.

He didn’t even know her name. But he already knew he’d kill for her.

Crimsonhowl Pack House – Medical Wing

“She’s stable,” the pack doctor said. “Healing well. Accelerated cell repair. But emotionally… I can’t say.”

Elijah stood by her bedside, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. Every breath soothed something raw inside him.

“She’s my mate,” he said quietly

The doctor blinked in surprise at his alpha confession. “Are you sure, sir?”

“I felt it the second I touched her.”

“Then the bond will guide her back. Just give her time.”

And as if on cue, her lashes fluttered.

Valerie opened her eyes, confused, dazed. Pain flashed behind her gaze. She tried to sit up—winced.

Elijah stepped closer.

Their eyes met.

And the world shifted.

The pull was instant. Soul to soul. Blood to blood.

He felt her recognition. The fear, the pain, the connection.

“Where… where am I?” she whispered.

“You’re safe,” he said gently. “You’re with me now.”

She looked at him. Really looked.

And for the first time since her life had shattered hours ago— Valerie Voltaire felt hope.

Hi everyone!

Well, this story has being in my head for a couple of months by now, so I wanted to give it a shot in this platform to publish it and even if it doesn’t get well received I want her to be in here just ti remind me that by leaving the fears away, behind a screen or so my dreams and thoughts and creativity can see some light.

I still be doing some scheduling on to what days I’ll do the publishing but for now, Monday nights will work fine so I can be able to work on the next chapters I’ve written to polish them and get em’ ready to post.

See you next week.

D. M.