A Hundred Summers Book Novels & Stories

Yet somehow… my mind still drifted toward a stubborn eighteen-year-old girl with pink bandages and reckless eyes. Ava. Even after three days away from her, she still found a way into my thoughts like she belonged there. And that was the real problem. I exhaled sharply and grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table, pouring another glass. Outside, Pasadena glittered beneath the night sky. Beautiful. But inside the hotel suite, I already knew the truth. This summer was becoming dangerous in ways I never expected.

Then my phone, on silent in my blazer pocket, started vibrating with the energy of someone who had been told no phones and had decided that did not apply to them. I shifted slightly and angled the screen just enough to read it under the desk. Tyler, in our group chat: *SUMMER WINTERS.* *SUMMER ELISE WINTERS.* *You have exactly thirty seconds to explain yourself before I combust.* Then Ruby: *I HEARD. I WAS IN MATHS AND I HEARD.* *SUMMER. MY GIRL. MY QUEEN. MY ENTIRE REASON FOR BEING AT THIS SCHOOL.* Then Tyler again: *I'm actually upset that I missed it I hate myself*

--- The summer came, and with it, the longest day. Solenne had finished the second volume—the story of the school, of Winter's keepership, of Iriel and Kaelen and Ash. She had written about the gold flowers spreading to every province, about the watcher's attention reaching the sea, about the fifth bloom at the relay site.

"There is this man that comes here lately, he wants to buy this place and obviously doesn't understand no for an answer.” "If you have any problem just tell me, I can ask my dad for a favor." You would think Summer is just another rich daddy girl but she is really sweet. "Thank you, Summer but I have it under control." "Hey did you get me that book we talked about?" Summer asked. "Oh yes, let me run upstairs and grab it." I ran upstairs to get the book and as I was returning I saw from the stairs a man talking with Summer. Something about him was so familiar to me so I slowly descended the stairs and listened to their conversation.

Not anymore. My name is Justina Summers. I am a seventeen-year-old senior and am from the Full Moon Pack. Ordinary wolves shift at sixteen, but I haven't shifted yet. I am worried I never will because I will be eighteen in four months. The closer a werewolf gets to eighteen without shifting, the less of a chance they have of ever getting a wolf. A knock on my door takes me out of my thoughts, and my Aunt Fiona walks inside and immediately hugs me. "I heard the news from Alpha Xavier. Are you okay?" Aunt Fiona

"Take her to the broken walk-in freezer and let her reflect on her actions." When the servants grabbed me, I didn’t even struggle. Yvonne trailed behind with a victorious smile. "See, Zoe? You were once their pride. Now they all hate you. One word from me, and you’re locked up like a stray dog. Since you didn’t manage to kill yourself after a hundred attempts, maybe this time, I’ll help. They’ll only love me now." As the door slammed shut,the broken walk-in freezer suddenly resumed working wich freezing air hit my skin like knives. I curled into a ball and started shivering uncontrollably.

She dropped down to her knees in front of her so they were at the same level, but there was nothing soft about the look on her face. “What gave you the right to do something like this?” Amelia asked, her voice controlled but firm. “Do you even understand what you’ve invited into this place? You are too young to be making decisions like this.” Summer shifted under her gaze, clearly nervous now, and I could see her hands fidgeting slightly. “The Satyre came to me,” Summer said, her voice quieter now. “She said she could help. She said I could see mommy again and she could heal Uncle Cane.”

I growled, crouching low, "I'll rip that book out of your hands and burn it with you." "You can't even touch me, Alpha." Xander opened the Ledger. The pages began to turn on their own, a blurred storm of parchment and ink, "You see, in the new history I’m writing, you never made it to this mill. You never even left the pack house. You never even fell in love with Darius.” He slammed the book shut. Suddenly, the world around me began to blur. The sound of the saws faded into a dull hum, and the honey-coloured wood of the mill started to grey and rot before my eyes. The heat vanished, replaced by a biting, supernatural cold.

The clearing looked different now. It had been a place of warmth once. Of quiet moonlight and aching promises, of soft lips and racing hearts. Now it felt… hollow. Not empty—never that—but expectant. As if the earth itself was waiting for what would be spilled upon it next. Blood. Magic. Memory. Love. Maybe all of it. I stepped into the grass, my boots brushing against early summer wildflowers that had no idea they were growing atop ancient bones. Nyx stirred in my chest—uneasy. Alert.

“You can look up there. Maybe it’s there.” *** The attic was colder than I had expected. The air was thick with dust, the scent of old wood and dust lingered. Mara coughed softly, waving a hand through the haze. We worked in silence, opening different boxes and shifting through stacked photo frames of weddings, pack events and festivals. Elder Summers’ past stared up at us in frozen faces. “I don’t see anything that dates back to that time,” Mara said after a while, her tone frustrated. “Just a lot of old memories and people who probably all hate each other now.”