Cherry Blossom Winter Novels & Stories

It was forbidden ground, the den of the mad wolf Axel. ... This day brought the worst blizzard of the season. It was also the date carved into Axel's bones. It was his birthday and the anniversary of Seraphina's death. An old courier knelt trembling outside the tent. "Alpha... This is a package a lady left with us ten years ago. She paid ten times the normal fee and specified it be delivered to you today." Axel emerged from the tent. Ten years of weathering had streaked his temples with white, but his eyes remained as lifeless as they had been a decade ago.

At dinner, my mom hit me with, "Tristan, why didn't you bring Chloe along? "We're not getting any younger, and you guys live so far away. Who knows how many more times we'll get to see Chloe?" I felt a lump in my throat and just kept my head down, focusing on my food to keep the tears at bay. "Mom, Chloe is off traveling with Sheila. We'll bring her by to see you guys for New Year's." No sooner had I said that than my phone started buzzing. It was Sheila. I stepped outside to take the call.

"Just telling you what I see." Near the end of the hunt, he stops in front of a decorative rose bush. White petals edged in pale pink, frosted with artificial snow. He plucks one and holds it out to me. "A winter rose," he says. "In Argentina, we call them rosa de escarcha. They only bloom in the cold. People think they're fragile because they look delicate, but they survive things that would kill ordinary flowers." His eyes hold mine. "Reminds me of someone. The most beautiful woman I know."

Brady Meath shoved away from the desk in his small office in the public library and stood in front of the window facing Puritan Street. Pedestrians walked past and cars drove by. Cherry blossoms were in full bloom and buds beginning to open on the magnolia trees. The grass was finally turning a nice shade of green after a long winter. But the calming, familiar sights didn't appease his restless mind or abate the itch under his skin.

The morning of the wedding rose in gold — not with noise or chaos, but with a quiet reverence that felt almost sacred. Winter had softened its edges, giving way to the gentleness of early spring. The fields surrounding Willow Creek Ranch shimmered with dew; the air was crisp yet kind, carrying the faint scent of blooming wildflowers. Cherry blossoms fluttered from the trees, their petals drifting like slow snow, while birds filled the pines with soft songs. Over the lake, a thin mist curled and lifted as the sun began to rise.

“I want to work out what these mean.” “Well, there’s only one thing to do with a seed, really, isn’t there?” She pointed out. “We’ll have to plant it.” * * * We snuck out into the woods. Rhiannon kept staring at the falling snow like it was personally victimising her. I didn’t get it. Since the spell for sunshine, we’d not seen so much as a glimpse of blossom on any of the trees – and yet Rhiannon seemed convinced that the Eternal Winter had been ending.

It flustered everyone from the mere thought of finding the most compatible scent in this gathering. If outsiders would see this, no one would associate it with the ruthless and crude Blood Claws Pack. Beyond the rattling doors that were slowly opening before the eligible unmated ladies of the Blood Claws Pack, a woman who barely finished the celebration of her eighteenth summer solstice stared at the Cherry Blossom trees below her. The knot lodged deep between her perfectly carved brows worsened upon hearing the sound of the gongs that would signal that the Welcoming Ceremony, which had been canceled a week ago, would finally commence.

I never doubted for even a second that the two of them would always be there for me. Now as I stand on the same edge, just six months later, I am without them both. Wilder, because of a horrible twist of fate, was forever taken from me. Wyatt, though, he is gone from me and it's my own damn fault. Over the last two week, ever since Thanksgiving, it's been colder in my house than the December wind outside. I look down at the light dusting of snow, that is so rare in Alabama and I could almost believe it's a sign from Wilder. “You thinking about jumping?”

Running was my time to unplug from the world and clear my head. I crossed the park and leaned on a bench to stretch my legs, noticing two policemen standing near a man setting up his food cart for the day. We New Yorkers were ready for spring after an ungodly cold winter with more snow than we’d had in decades. We relished even the hint of sunshine. A light breeze carried the floral scent of the cherry blossom trees that varied from pearly white to pale pink and deep magenta. With the harsh winter looming behind us, the blooming promised a bright, hopeful future.

She wasn’t getting what exactly was going on? Meaning, she thought she was dreaming. It was winter from where she came from? Then, where is this ? The beautiful pinkish-white petals of the cherry blossom were falling on her skin, lightly and softly. She was liking and loving each and every second in there. Suddenly, she found out the cut in her arms and it pained like the sting of a bee or an ant.