Ms Winters Novels & Stories

The forest was alive with silver. Moonlight dripped through the bare branches like liquid frost, pooling on the ground in pale, shimmering sheets. The Winter Moon—the brightest, coldest full moon of the year—hung heavy above the Winterwood, casting everything in a ghostlike glow. Lyra Whitlock paused at the treeline, breath fogging in the crisp air. Her heartbeat thudded unevenly beneath her cloak. This was her last moment alone before the festival. Before the ceremony. Before the pact that would bind her life to a man she’d never met.

The neon red lights of the party pulsed like a rhythmic heartbeat, a sharp contrast to the biting chill of the Austin, Texas night. Inside the Riverside Duplex, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of pine, rain, and the underlying musk of the Austin Wolves hockey team. Kol Reyes adjusted the collar of his shirt, feeling exposed. His roommate, Valeria Cruz, had practically forced him into the outfit—a charcoal button-down that was tapered perfectly to his lean, athletic frame, paired with dark slacks and polished boots.

“I’m not going in anymore. It’s blazing hot outside. Holidays are approaching, but the weather’s still so hot.” “It’s Wiltspoon for you. It’s not even cold during winter, let alone fall. We used to find the four seasons here distinct, but it’s been getting warmer each year,” Jasmine said.

Winter came early this year. Already at the end of November Frost was above the fields behind the house. In the morning the windows were full of ice flowers, and each of the children suddenly developed a dramatic personal tragedy about how unfair school is in cold. Jonas claimed that his fingers would “freeze medically” if he Waste had to get out. Mira regularly hid under three blankets at the same time and explained that she would the winter just slept like a bear. And Kai continued to run outside without a jacket, which every time in the same fight with

Noah The private corridor that leads to our wing smells of cedar polish and the faint tang of expensive whisky. Winter is really hanging around this year, and while it’s always cold in the mountains, it usually stops snowing. Not this year. It started a few hours ago, and the storm is getting worse. I made it home just ahead of a complete white-out. My boots leave wet marks on the black marble which is going to piss off the Omegas, but I have bigger concerns than that. They will live. Hopefully.

My Fer, she is all I have left. I slump back in the seat, trying to see out the darkened windows of the car. Through the windscreen I can make out the mountains of the Wildlands looming black against the gold and magenta of the Wolf Moon sky. On either side of the car, the outlines of forest pines whoosh past in blurs of bristly bark and spiky spruce needles.

“Jasmine, don't you think it's funny, I guess today is a special day when witches and serial killers where born, worth a celebration.” “What did you just say?” I asked in fury. “Well, just saying…” she reached for a cup on the sink, filled it with water then poured it on my dress. “Oops.” My dress dripped with water and I just stood there mad as h*ll. “Personally I don't think witches deserve a birthday, especially ones who killed her mother.” I turned to her and slapped her on her cheek making her red. “Ah!” She exclaimed in pain then turned and grabbed my hair, I grabbed hers too, I had had enough.

Moon asked confused. "Weren't wolves created without humans? I can't imagine how Gaia might have turned out had the human half hadn't been released." Moon commented. "You must understand the importance of the part we all play in this. I have dealt with Chad and his Council long before I was your alpha. Winter was an old wolf, and I was his Luna. Chad’s wolves are different beasts in their own rights, they need to be reguarded with respect, or whoever the Council faces in physical or psychological combat will fall every time." she paused to sip her coffee.

She had no time to mourn. Amira forced herself to stand, wiping the tears and blood from her face. Her wound burned, but the pain anchored her. She turned toward the north, toward Winter Hollow — the home that had caged her, the place where this nightmare began. If the Council wanted her silenced, she’d give them a voice they couldn’t ignore.

she said, softly. “You should pack a bag,” I said, and she looked up at me. “Why?” she asked, with a frown. “Carl and Frank will be at Kiran’s house with Adara and the other women, while we take a road trip,” I said. “Where are you going?” she asked me. “We’re going to Anchorage,” I said.