Refugee Romane & Geschichten

Whatever their jobs really are or were, they have plenty of money. The refugees climb out of the vehicles. Even though they’ve been free for six weeks now, they still wear shell-shocked, wary expressions. I catch their strange, mixed scents—a jumble of animals, nothing that makes sense. It’s just like the misfit shifters from California. Alpha Green asked those three to come up to Wolf Ridge and meet the bus, so these new refugees will have shifter’s who have been through what they have to advocate for them and help build trust. “We’re going to provide escort to Arizona,” Rafe tells me. “Make sure you arrive safe.” I shake his h

The city watched them go in uneasy silence. At the northern gate, refugees continued to arrive—not in waves, but in steady, grinding trickles. Each family carried less than the last. Lena walked among them without escort, stopping to listen, to ask names, to touch shoulders when words failed. She took in every story—the dry wells, the cracked soil, the neighbors who stayed behind because they couldn’t walk anymore. A boy no older than ten tugged at her sleeve. “Are we safe now?” he asked. Lena crouched to his level. The question cut deeper than any accusation.

Maya's heart hammered against her ribs. "They're coming," she rasped, her voice betraying her growing panic. A trapdoor above them creaked open, a shaft of harsh light momentarily blinding them. A gruff voice boomed down, laced with suspicion. "What do we have here?" Maya's mind raced. They were discovered. There was no fighting their way out, not in this confined space. A desperate plan formed in her head. "We're refugees," she called back, her voice trembling slightly but firm. "Fleeing the conflict in the Eastern Territories. We paid Finn for passage."

Owen patted Joan on the shoulder just as Nathan did to him to strengthen him when he was feeling vulnerable and doubting himself. "Never mind, forget it! You'd better help me build a tent over there! Looks like the number of refugees is increasing." "Yes, sir!" *

It rang immediately. “Hello, thank you for calling Refuge. Bev Miller speaking.” The person on the other end of the line released what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Ms. Miller, you are just the person I wanted to speak with,” a woman said. “How can I help you?” Bev asked, her senses instantly alert. Her mind raced through all of the possible scenarios. If the woman needed employment, Bev wouldn’t be able to get her in for an appointment for another day or two. If it was something more serious, like she needed emergency accommodations, they had one apartment opening up the next day. Refuge had just had a large donation of food and toiletries the day before, so they were good in that area to

Ezra whispered as he stood close enough. “Do you need anything?” He asked in a calm voice, pulling Ezra closer and ignoring the stares of the Alphas that watched them. Ezra nodded, biting down on his lips with nervousness. Alpha Cage slowly lifted his hands, brushing his thumb against the underside of his lips and pulling it from between his teeth. “Tell me” he ordered and Ezra spoke. “I want to help the refugees” he kept his voice low enough that only Alpha Cage could hear. “Help them?” His eyes narrowed.

When we exited the tent, I was shocked by the amount of people. The camp was chaos—healers running like ants, moving from body to body, patching up sickly figures. People too thin to stand were being fed, their eyes hollow. Children cried, clinging to whatever adult was nearby. All halfbreeds. “What the hell?” I asked. “There’s about 270 people here at the moment,” the soldier said. “All refugees that escaped from some place in the north. Some of them claim to be from Derry. And so far we’ve matched twenty people to missing persons reports.”

At that time, they had no choice but to flee and escape the dangerous warzone and seek help from others, taking shelter in other countries was their only choice at that time. For decades and centuries, they and the next generation live good lives, but the tag of Refugee never left their forehead, it was never removed and got imprinted permanently on their fate and lives. But who would have thought that a day would arrive when they would no longer have any home to call theirs and their lives would come at risk?

he paused, looked at me and my brother, and then asked me. “Can you tell me what the numbers on your tags mean?” “Yes sir. It means that my brother and I are the 46th and 45th refugees allowed into the North on the 7th of October, 2020.” “Wonderful!” Sir Cornel said, and I believe I heard his wolf growl excitedly. I tried to keep my composure and not allow the praise to get into my head. Because the reality remained that, I was just a refugee seeker and at the mercy of these people. I had to be careful.

"Refugees, by the sound of it." Refugees. The word sent a chill through me, and I immediately thought back to what we’d overheard near the borders. Families displaced, lives uprooted—all because of the chaos at the castle. Before I could say more, Kane broke into a jog towards the place. His silence worried me, and I quickly followed.