Henry Winter Novels & Stories

It is a trading company. Today I have the Winter. co and several affiliated companies all over the country. Several properties and factories, hotels, and stores. And the best part is no one can find out it’s me who owns them. The companies are owned by Kian and Alex Winter, but because they are minors I am their Guardian, but there is no trace of me when anyone looking into the company. I am simply an employee from the outside. My most trusted employees and my lawyers know of course how it is.

"No. You probably have a lot to do with what happened. I'll be fine. I'll distract myself." * * * Henry and I walk around outside, as he refuses to stay in and rest his ankle. He is the only bandaged one among us, for my head has healed to a point where a wrap is no longer needed. The grass is dry, and we travel through it on a random path to nowhere. Henry wanted to come outside and enjoy the last bit of fall before winter comes and coats the grass white with its harsh winds and ondings. Today, the weather is nice, not too cold, as if the sun has decided to shine one last time before night takes over.

“You can call me Gavril. Gavrill Hawthorne.” “Hawthorne? I thought Nolan's last name was Smith?” “He took his mom’s last name.” I nodded my head in realisation. I didn’t even know that. “My name is Winter. Winter Cooper.” He nodded. “You want some bread” he offered. I took the bread and bolted to my room to video-call my best friend, Sicily, to inform her about what had happened. My suitcase lay on my bed as I had begun to repack to go back home.

He didn't know that Hana had seen it all from behind. From behind Jackson, each fireball rushed forward and swallowed the entire whirlwind of wind that surrounded Henry. Henry's pathetically disheveled form appearing in front of Hana made her angry. Henry is ready to forego his future and his own life to protect her when she is in imminent danger of death. And Jackson is a mysterious person; he likes to go will go, and he likes to come will come.

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.

Dalton After I put Layla to bed, I return immediately to the shed. I look down at the dead man with a mix of pity and rage. He’s not much older than me. He was handsome, with blond hair and eyes that used to be blue. But now, they’ve started to decay into his skull. The skin is flayed from his fingers, revealing bone, but the rest of him is in surprisingly good shape considering how long he’s been here. I remember him. Henry, that was his name. Henry Swanson, from Mississippi, an architect apprentice who never made it back after traveling here to visit his girlfriend.

This, of course, didn't end up good. Henry had come downstairs to get the cake he had bought for his wife's birthday. Since it was almost midnight, he planned to take the cake, call Ryder and then go back to his bedroom to surprise his Michelle. Henry was sure Ryder was in her room to change her clothes and dry her hair, seeing that she looked like a drenched cat, shivering and looking sad and pitiful when she came back home. How could he know that not only she didn't go to her room at all, but she was also sitting melancholically alone in the kitchen in the dark?

"Ah, it's snow." Eric ignored the pain in his body, running barefoot down the bed and opening the window. The face is the cold of winter, the pure white snow falls down to form a large snow field. Eric was watching when a large hand-picked him up like a baby. Eric took advantage of Henry's neck to look at the snow. Henry looked at Eric's feet as white as snow, felt cold to the touch, frowned, closed the window, and carried Eric back to the bed, covered with blankets from beginning to end to warm Eric. Henry is reassured.

After getting Luke's approval with a glance, we sat down. Henry looked at me, "You seem familiar. Have we met before?" "A few times," I replied. I had encountered Henry a couple of times when out with Wendy, but she wasn't close to her father and never introduced us. "For someone so young to be Mr. Walker's assistant, you must be quite capable. My daughter is about your age, and she's very talented too! She's my pride and joy," Henry said, his eyes full of admiration. "Unfortunately, my daughter doesn't like being tied down, always preferring to carve her own path. She's quite well-known in Johnsonville. I wonder if Mr. Walker has heard of Wendy Smith?"

she whispered. “Pardon me?” “Nothing, I’m going back inside.” Henry watched her until she entered the tent. He heard every word she whispered, for some reason they bothered him, but he pushed the thought away. This was not the day for any distractions. He hurried to the next envoy. “Your Grace,” he called the Duke of the North, Luka Werner. He was from the small country of Aachen. “My apologies for my rudeness, my name is Henry from House Flock, may I have a word with you in private?”