Crimson Veil (Book I)

The Invitation

The city of Valoria never truly slept. Its skyscrapers, illuminated by a million lights, pierced the night sky, casting long shadows over the streets below. People hurried along the sidewalks, caught in the pulse of the city—each one unaware of the ancient power that hummed beneath their feet.

Elena Ravenwood, however, was not so naive. She may have been a brilliant journalist by day, but by night, her world was filled with whispers and secrets she couldn't ignore. Her instincts had led her into some dark corners of the city, but none quite like tonight.

Elena adjusted her leather jacket as she walked towards a crumbling warehouse at the edge of the East District. A mysterious invitation had appeared in her mailbox that morning—no name, no return address. Just a time and location. Most would ignore such a thing, and dismiss it as a prank, but Elena's curiosity had gotten the better of her. It always did.

Her dark hair, tied into a sleek ponytail, swayed with each step as she approached the warehouse doors. The sounds of the city faded behind her, leaving only the quiet rustle of the wind. She hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder. No one was watching, or so it seemed. Her heart raced, but she couldn't turn back now. She pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside.

The air was thick with a strange energy, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw them—figures cloaked in shadow, gathered in a circle. At the centre stood a tall man, his face obscured by the hood of his dark coat. The moment she entered, all eyes turned to her. Elena's pulse quickened, but she squared her shoulders and moved forward. She had no idea what she was walking into, but she would not show fear.

The man at the centre of the circle lowered his hood, revealing a face she recognized immediately. Lucien Blackthorne—wealthy CEO, enigmatic, and known for his ruthless business dealings. But what the public didn't know, what Elena had been trying to prove for months, was that Lucien wasn't just powerful in the boardroom. He held sway over something far older and far darker.

"Elena Ravenwood," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I've been expecting you."

Her breath caught. How did he know her name? She was good at staying off the radar, but clearly, Lucien was better. He moved toward her, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. The room seemed to darken, the air growing heavy with an unseen force. Elena's skin tingled with the sensation, a pull deep inside her that she didn't understand. It felt familiar, yet terrifying.

"What is this place?" she asked, keeping her voice steady despite the unease growing in her chest.

Lucien smiled, a slow, predatory grin. "This, my dear, is where power begins."

Before she could ask another question, the doors slammed shut behind her. Elena turned, her hand instinctively reaching for the handle, but it was locked. She was trapped.

The figures surrounding her began to chant softly, a low murmur in a language she didn't recognize. Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned back to Lucien, who was now standing dangerously close. He reached out, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she shivered at the touch.

"You're more special than you know, Elena," he whispered. "There's a reason you were brought here tonight. A reason your bloodline has been hidden for so long."

Elena's head spun. Bloodline? What the hell was he talking about? She opened her mouth to demand answers, but the room shifted again, the energy growing stronger, swirling around her like a storm.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath her feet trembled. Magic—dark, ancient, and raw—rippled through the air. Elena's knees buckled, and she gasped as a surge of power coursed through her body, igniting something deep within her she had never felt before.