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In the eternally dark and war-torn city of Eldemire, the sun is a forgotten myth, swallowed by the relentless war between vampires and werewolves. The city lives under the chokehold of ancient bloodlines and secret pacts, where power isn't inherited it's carved in blood. Magic is outlawed, the streets whisper with the curses of the dead, and only monsters reign. In this world where survival is a privilege, Lyra is less than nothing. Born of a vampire mother who vanished without a trace and a werewolf father she never knew, Lyra is a hybrid a forbidden existence. Shunned by both factions, hunted by all, she survives as a shadow: stealing, running, and fighting to remain unseen. Her blood is considered cursed, her life unwanted. Raised in the slums of Eldemire, she has only ever known betrayal, pain, and silence. But everything changes the night she infiltrates the forbidden ruins of the Crimson Vault-a place said to be cursed by the gods and sealed by death. Her only intention is to steal something valuable enough to buy a new identity and escape Eldemire forever. Instead, she finds it. The Crimson Pact. An ancient dagger, glowing faintly with runes etched in blood and flame, calls to her. It doesn't just choose her it binds to her, fusing with her soul and burning visions into her mind. Memories that are not hers. Screams from another life. The Pact awakens something buried in her blood, and suddenly, Lyra is no longer invisible. With the relic in her possession, she becomes the most wanted girl in Eldemire. Two powerful factions begin to hunt her down: the vampire nobility, led by the cold, calculating Lord Kael, and the werewolf clans, ruled by the brutal and impulsive Prince Ruvan. Each wants the Crimson Pact for their own ends. Each believes controlling Lyra is the key to ending the war. But the Pact has other plans. Kael, the Vampire Lord, is a being of ancient magic and manipulative charm. He promises Lyra protection, power, and a throne beside his if she submits. His touch is like frost, his voice laced with riddles, and his intentions buried beneath centuries of secrets. Yet, he sees something in her others don't. Not a girl. Not a threat. A queen. Ruvan, the Werewolf Prince, is fury and fire. He wants the Pact destroyed, and he doesn't trust Lyra not with her vampire blood, not with her silence. But the more he hunts her, the more he begins to see past the mask she wears. Her rage matches his. Her pain mirrors his. And when she saves his life, everything changes. Caught between the two heirs, Lyra begins to uncover the truth of what the Crimson Pact really is: not a weapon, but a prison. Inside it is the soul of the first hybrid a being so powerful they nearly tore the world apart. And Lyra's awakening magic, the voices she hears, and the burning in her bones are signs that she is more than a girl with cursed blood. She is a vessel. As the war around her escalates, Lyra is forced to make impossible choices. The city whispers her name in fear and awe. The Pact continues to feed her visions of a past soaked in blood and a future on fire. And while Kael and Ruvan fight for control, Lyra begins to write her own legend. She is not a pawn. She is not a prophecy. She is the beginning of the end. And when Eldemire finally burns, it will be in the shadow of the Crimson Pact. As Lyra navigates assassins, cursed courtships, shifting loyalties, and her own fragmented identity, she learns the truth: monsters are not born. They are made. And she was made to shatter empires. The deeper she descends into the mysteries of the Pact, the more she unravels secrets buried for centuries: about her parents, the true origin of hybrids, and a forgotten pact that chained gods in blood. The final war isn't just between vampire and werewolf. It's between freedom and fate. Every decision Lyra makes echoes with consequence. Every stolen kiss could be betrayal. Every heartbeat could be the last. Will she save Eldemire? Or doom it? "Shadows of the Crimson Pact" is a dark fantasy romance with sharp claws, sharper kisses, and a heroine born to destroy the world or save it. Featuring an intense love triangle, ancient magic, soul-binding relics, and a city on the edge of ruin, this story blends brutal politics, forbidden love, and high-stakes power in a tale destined for obsession. Because Lyra doesn't bow. She burns and from the ashes, something awakens-older than blood, deeper than memory. Not a pawn. Not a monster. A reckoning in human form. Let the vampires fear .Let the wolves run .Eldemire was built on bones. She's here to turn them into fire. She will wear blood like armor and sorrow like silk. She will rise from ruin, cloaked in the ghosts of her past and the fury of her future. And when the last chain breaks, the world will finally understand what it means to be chosen by the crimson pact This story is a thrilling blend of dark fantasy, romance, and high-stakes action, with a heroine who is fierce as she
Chapter 1 The Relic in The Vault
Eldemire was a city built on bones.
Its streets coiled like veins through the carcass of an empire long forgotten, humming with the remnants of ancient magics and unspoken curses. No sun rose over Eldemire. It hadn't for centuries. Instead, the sky remained a permanent bruise, a purple-black smear that bled moonlight and rain.
Lyra ran but
She didn't stop.
Not when the night watch bells rang out across the city.
Not when the silver hounds howled two streets away.
And not when her heartbeat began to stutter with the echo of magic-old, hungry, and pulling her forward.
The Vault was closed.
She could feel it.
She wasn't like the others who prowled the city's underbelly. She wasn't noble, or chosen, or powerful. She was just a half-breed-neither wolf nor vampire, neither shadow nor flame. Her blood was mud, her past a ruin. She had nothing.
Except the key.
And a plan to steal the Crimson Pact.
The Cathedral Vault was carved into the ribs of the Old Temple-a place older than Eldermire itself. It crouched at the heart of the city like a buried god, wrapped in black stone and cursed hymns. The door was a jagged circle of obsidian inscribed with runes that pulsed like veins.
Lyra dropped from the roof onto the rear balcony, landing in a crouch.
She waited.
Silence.
She reached into her coat, fingers closing around a shard of moonsteel etched with sigils. The key. Not the original, but close enough. It had cost her three months of planning, a betrayal, and the last friend she trusted. Worth it.
She pressed the shard to the lock and whispered, "Blood remembers."
The door shuddered.
The runes flared red.
And then it opened.
Inside, the air was thick and cold, like she'd stepped into someone else's lungs. Statues lined the narrow corridor-hooded things with outstretched hands and hollow eyes. She moved between them silently, her fingers brushing the hilt of her blade. Just in case.
The Vault room was circular, sunken, and empty-except for the dagger floating above the altar at its center.
The Crimson Pact.
It was smaller than she imagined. Sleek. Curved. Its blade shimmered darkly, a liquid crimson edge that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. The hilt was wrapped in something pale and slick-was it... skin?
Lyra swallowed.
She stepped forward.
Her fingers brushed the blade-and the world vanished.
She wasn't in the Vault anymore.
She was falling, tumbling through smoke and fire and whispers. Voices echoed through her skull-some ancient, some hers.
Blood to bind. Bone to seal. Soul to rule.
Pain exploded behind her eyes.
Something entered her. Not a presence, not a being-an awareness. It wrapped around her bones like a second skeleton, curled under her skin, stitched itself to her breath.
The Pact had chosen her.
No. Claimed her.
She screamed as she hit the floor.
The Vault was still there. The statues, the altar, the cold. But now the dagger lay in her hand-no longer floating, no longer passive. It had slithered into her grip like a serpent coming home.
The air shifted.
Boots on stone.
Lyra's heart seized.
She turned-and came face-to-face with the last person she wanted to see.
Tall. Silver eyes. Wolf blood.
Prince Kael.
He stared at her like she'd just killed his god.
"You don't know what you've done," he growled, stepping forward, the light catching on the clawed rings he wore across his knuckles.
"I do," Lyra whispered, lifting the blade. "I ended your war."
His eyes narrowed. "You started another."
She ran.
Again.
This time, Kael didn't chase-he lunged.
They crashed through the Vault's side door, metal and flesh and fury colliding in a blur of fists and growls. Lyra slashed at him with the blade, but he caught her wrist, twisted, and slammed her against the wall.
His breath was hot against her ear.
"You smell like blood and betrayal."
"Good," she hissed, driving her knee into his ribs.
He stumbled. Just enough.
She slipped free, vaulted over a railing, and vanished into the fog of Eldemire once more.
The city swallowed her whole.
She ran through the under layers, the echo chambers beneath the market, the sewers where old vampires slept in brine and bone. Her body burned, but the dagger was silent now-resting against her spine like a dormant heart.
She didn't stop until she reached her safehouse.
An attic above a crumbling bookshop, warded with wolfsbane and deadman's ash.
She locked the door, collapsed against the wall, and stared at the dagger.
It stared back.
And then-
A voice. Inside her.
"Now we begin."
That night, she didn't sleep.
She dreamt.
Of fire and fangs.
Of a vampire lord with eyes like winter.
Of Kael's hands around her throat-and his lips against her skin.
Of herself, crowned in blood.
And the city is burning.
Always burning.
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Chapter 1 The Relic in The Vault
16/06/2025
Chapter 2 Marked by Crimson
16/06/2025
Chapter 3 The Vampire Lord's Bargain
16/06/2025
Chapter 4 Blood and Moonlight
16/06/2025
Chapter 5 Whispers Beneath the Throne
16/06/2025
Chapter 6 The Vampire Lord's Temptation
16/06/2025
Chapter 7 The Werewolf Prince's Hunt
16/06/2025
Chapter 8 Blood Between Beasts and Kings
16/06/2025