Shelter Novels & Stories

The sign out front read: “The Story House: Sanctuary.” Skye blinked. “What is this?” River handed her a key. “It’s yours. Well—ours. This will be the first shelter specifically for survivors of trauma and youth homelessness using the Story House model. Books, therapy, art, food, safety. A place to land and begin again.” She stared at the building, heart aching in the best way. “You bought this?” she whispered. “Don’t ask how,” he smirked. “Just say yes.”

The survivors’ shelter wasn’t far from the military base—a short walk through a narrow, barricaded road lined with barbed wire and overturned vehicles. The shelter itself was a repurposed office building, its glass windows replaced with sheets of metal and its entrances fortified with makeshift barriers. The military base, just a few hundred meters away, was visible from the shelter’s rooftop.

I ask, not wanting to tussle with anything that can bite. Marcus shakes his head as we move closer. There’s no way he’s keeping a dog in that shelter. The roof is half gone, the wood is splintering and rotting away, and the water bowl sitting out looks like Mother Nature is the only one filling it. The rust-colored liquid shimmers in the morning sun as we move past.

But here's the thing. What's a shelter? Ethan Brooks scratches his head and regrets that he hasn't watched more episodes of Wilderness Survival! But it's all in the mind of the beholder. Shelter, isn't that what it's all about, shelter from the wind and rain? One's shelter must depend on that rock wall, which itself is considered a shelter from the wind, and to keep out the rain, it must be built on a sloping surface for easy drainage. Ethan Brooks had a quick idea in his head of a herringbone-shaped nest with his back against a rock

I have to find shelter first. The darkness was suffocating, but then, faintly, through the trees, I saw a glimmer of light. My heart leaped as I cautiously approached, praying it wasn’t a trap. What I found instead was a small, dilapidated hunting shack, nearly swallowed by the forest. Its wooden walls were warped, the roof sagging in places, but it was shelter. For now, it was enough.

He shows me four bedrooms, two more normal space-bathrooms, a study, a cool high-tech kitchen, an office, a sunroom, and a second living room that he calls a den. "So if the suns never set...how do the animals sleep," I ask curiously, and he smiles. "Prey animals rotate their sleep amongst their herds or families. Predators use camouflage to conceal themselves before sleeping. As for us, if we are having problems with the bright skies, we have window shades. But we were born here. Night and darkness are foreign to us. But I have had the best shades installed on our bedroom windows, so you will be able to rest comfortably, "Terrax explains, and I nod as I begin to twitch nervously.

The low groan that leaves his lips sends a hot wave of need straight through me. The tips of my fingers drift over the ink that brands his skin. It begins on the right side of his ribcage before wrapping around his back. The shield is divided into four sections of red and black color. A large golden lion stands on its hind legs in the middle. On top of the shield sits a golden crown. The detail is gorgeous and intricate.

“Although the beta knows of a few of them, only the Alpha knows about all the security hideouts of the pack and the Alpha is certain he never learnt of this one.” I asked a few more questions and learnt that the place was fully insulated. It was sturdy and they’d stocked it with two weeks worth of food when the first threat to the pack came. The tree above the shelter was artificial and blended well with the other trees so we would not be caught. I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my head on the iron walls behind me. Then I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer to the goddess to protect my mate and my pack. “We just have to stay here, right?” I asked Mela

He seemed to like children; he could even calm a crying baby. The shelter house is made of stacked forest wood, and the roof is made of woven coconut leaves and rice stalks. I stepped into my house, which is located at the very end and is the smallest. There's nothing special about my house—only a small mattress and a blanket from Theo. There is no furniture because I can't afford anything. I can eat twice a day; I'm delighted. I lay down on my bed, which feels comfortable. My eyes blinked as I saw the night sky through the hole in the roof. Tomorrow, I will fix the broken webbing before the rain comes.

"May I ask what it is you want to use the site for? Mr Bech here wasn't very forthcoming." I sit back in my chair, hands clasped, legs splayed. "Bech was doing as I asked him. I don't want it splashed everywhere until and unless we make some forward progress." Conners' brows rise. "Sounds intriguing." "I want to open a shelter home. There are so many in need of safety now, children from abusive backgrounds, women in need of refuge, both sexes and all ages from war zones. My aim is to set up an organisation where these people can find a safe harbour until they can take control of their own lives again."