Snowed In Catherine Walsh Novels & Stories

WRITER'S POV Catherina felt a lot of pain. As she struggled to stand up to go to out of the attic, she unknowingly teleported to the front of their house. She lay there almost lifeless. The sky had started rumbling. There was thunder and lightning. The day now looked as if it was night because darkness took all over. All the calm volcanoes had already started shaking. A serious tornado had come up. The ground started shaking due to earthquake...

I blinked rapidly, my vision blurring with pain and cold. “Wake up, freak,” the guard barked. I coughed and twisted, my body screaming in protest as I curled into myself. Every part of me burned—my cheek, my chest, my knees. My hunger gnawed at me worse now, turning into something almost animal. “Get up,” Kelly ordered. “Or you’ll regret it.” I laughed. It was a broken sound, dry and cracked. “I already do.” She knelt beside me again, this time her smile was gone. “Do you know what happens to wolves who refuse to obey, Rachael?” she whispered, her voice smooth as poison. “They get put down.”

the woman whispered, stepping closer until Ophelia could see the deep lines of grief etched into her face. “It’s a map. Catherine found a ledger inside this mountain... a ledger that proved the Yates fortune didn’t start with hard work. It started with a theft from the Sterlings that should have started a war.” The woman reached into her coat and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. It looked identical to the one Ophelia used for her designs. “Catherine was the first Architect,” the woman said, her voice breaking. “She wasn’t just a geologist. She was the one who designed the security for the Yates vaults. She knew every secret, every back door, and every lie. And when she tried to take t

The vial slipped from her fingers, but Jane caught it before it hit the ground. I looked at the doorway. General Miller was there, her sniper rifle still smoking. Catherine looked down at the hole in her fur coat. She looked at me, her eyes wide with shock. Then, without a word, she tipped backward. She fell through the broken window, vanishing into the white abyss of the North Pole. The room went silent. Bryan walked over to me, his hand resting on my shoulder. He was bleeding, and he looked like he was about to collapse, but he smiled.

Then into razor-sharp icicles. The puddles on the ground flash-froze, cracking the pavement. Jack felt a hand on his shoulder. It was cold. Colder than the liquid nitrogen. He turned. Catherine was standing. She wasn't supported by anyone. She was floating an inch off the ground, her bare feet hovering over the ice. Her hospital gown fluttered in a wind that swirled only around her. Her head was down. Her hair, usually blonde, was turning white from the roots, frosting over with diamond dust.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. The snow fell in large, soft flakes in a silence that felt vast and grand. We walked side by side beneath the streetlights, the thick snow crunching underfoot. "Are you cold?" Amelia asked me. "No." I shook my head. Inside, my heart was warm. Suddenly, Amelia stopped and turned to face me. "Charlie," she said seriously, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you." I looked at her. Snowflakes fell on her hair, eyelashes, and shoulders. Her eyes sparkled, like they were filled with starlight.

Climbing into it, she wrapped the duvet around her. Catherine watched her, worried about her but she had to remind herself that as a wolf, it would be difficult for to catch a cold. She sighed and packed her medicines and with one more glance at her, she left the room. As soon as the door closed, Aliyah let go of the water-works.

It hurt as if someone had hit her head with a hammer. Something strange has happened. Catherine just realized immediately and opened her eyes. The old butler still patiently called her up in an act of almost helplessness, he said: "Miss Catherine, you shall be late if you can't wake up now. You have a plan with Mister Jake Everton to go out today. This evening, you must attend a party at The Watterson’s party. Mister John Watterson - your cousin is getting married and he wants you to attend his glorious private party.” "Yo-you, uncle Harry? Is that you?"

Catherine’s P.O.V I finally scrambled off Hunter, my heart still hammering from the rush of adrenaline and shock. But suddenly, another thought crossed my mind. Why was Hunter here in the first place? “What… what were you doing here?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. My hands trembled slightly as I took a step back, keeping my distance. Hunter got up slowly, one hand brushing against the snow-covered ground as if it had left a bruise, wincing faintly. “I… I saw someone in trouble,” he said quietly, his voice calm but steady. “And I came to help.”

Instead of me, the wolf hit Felix. “Felix! Oh My, God!” I don’t know what to do anymore. Felix fell from the peak of the stairs to the ground. His head even made a sound. I rushed downstairs. I should help Felix. I should fight the wolves. The other wolf jump onto me but I kicked him straight in the eye. I rushed to help Felix and aid him. I tried to reach for the knife but the wolf hit me again with its paw. “Catherine!” Mom screamed upstairs. She rushed to help us. A dagger on her hand, which I didn’t know she has inside her room. She straddled and attacked the dark gray wolf that I hit in the eye.