Star Wars: The Cold War Novels & Stories

Lily, Aaron, and Clara walked briskly down the sterile, cold hallways of the hospital, their footsteps echoing, at the end of the corridor, where Zared’s parents and Aaron’s parents were standing together, faces etched with grief. The moment they approached, Lily saw Zared’s mother, her tear-streaked face crumpling further. “He’s already been moved,” Zared’s father said, his voice hoarse. “To the freezer. They’re preparing him for the funeral.”

When the first symbol touched my skin, a sharp cold burst into my bloodstream. I gasped loudly. “Cold—Grayson—” “I’m here,” he growled, his hands gripping me harder. “Stay focused on my voice.” But more symbols followed, each one burning colder than the last. They sank beneath my skin like ice shards, spreading through my veins until my fingertips numbed. “It feels—too much,” I said through clenched teeth. “Too cold—like something’s freezing me from the inside.” “That is the point,” Hamish said calmly. “Solven burns with ancient fire. To restrain him, you must counter him with winter.”

She w⁠as addin‌g the final strokes to a new pie⁠ce—a stark, beautif⁠u‌l, and utterly desola‌te cityscape, viewed from a g‌reat,‌ impa⁠ssa⁠ble distance. Th⁠e cold war had its fir⁠st casualty: the fragile, unnamed thing that had begun to grow between them. It wa‌s frozen solid, pr‍eserved in‍ a block of i⁠ce of the‌ir own maki‍ng. And neith‌er of t⁠hem knew how, or if, it could ever‌ be thawed.

Ethan was still clinging to him. Still alive. Still shaking. The Beta looked toward Grayson. "We need answers." Grayson nodded. "Yeah." His eyes drifted toward Frank. The older wolf looked exhausted. There was nowhere left to run. No secrets left to hide. Not anymore. Mason noticed too. The old Alpha turned slowly. "Inside." Nobody argued. The war room filled within minutes. Mason. Savannah. Grayson. Frank. Damon. Ethan. Harper. Vanessa. Everyone.

After that night, the cold war officially began. Normally, even if I pushed him away, Hudson would inevitably gravitate back to me. Even if he just glanced my way, he would subtly maneuver himself to keep me in his line of sight. But now, he treated me with the cold, ruthless efficiency of a stranger. Even when handing out rations, he didn't spare me a second glance. Things were going exactly as I had planned, but I didn't feel relieved at all.

January 2005 It was a cold January night. The winter wind was blowing throughout the valley village of Ravenna. The nine-year-old Rowan was lying in her bed in her family’s cottage. The window by her bed was closed tight, but she could still feel the freezing wind creeping in and gnawing at her beneath her blankets. This hardly bothered her, however, as she had lived through many winters just like this one in her young life. In fact, Rowan often found the cold to be rather soothing, as it helped her to drift off to sleep, but she was having trouble closing her eyes tonight.

Whatever was bothering her had to be something serious because he hardly ever saw her like this. ''Its Martins.'' she finally said. Upon hearing that name, Remus stilled. That was so not what he was expecting to hear. There had been a cold war between them both for as long as long she could remember and she knew that the only way it could end was when either of them killed the other. It had gotten to that point and it sure as hell wasn't going to end. ''You're worried because we haven't heard anything about him right?'' Remus asked.

Even calm, even-tempered Roel wants him dead. “Maybe you just don’t have the full story. Maybe you just don’t know their motivations," I insist, desperately looking for anything redeemable left in me. I can't have turned my back on everyone I love for a member of a rebellion. Roel grabs my shoulder in a surprisingly tight grip. He forces me to face him, his eyes darkening. “I warn you, Avila. Do not question me on this," he growls. “Seriously? Roel, you're scaring me," I grit out, grimacing as his grip only tightens. I've never seen him like this, so panicked and angry.

I felt the warmth of a lone tear escape my eye and leaving its trail all the way to my hairline as my eyes wavered and my eyelids closed when the last breath left my mouth. To be continued…. *Dear reader. If you have enjoyed reading The cold one - part 1, feel free to leave a review or rating with your thoughts, and thank you for choosing to read my book. Be sure to find out what happens in The cold one’s part 2 - The hunters rise.

I woke up the next day feeling cold. Marco poured a bucket of cold water on me. "Aren't you supposed to be awake by now?" He asked. I lifted my body and tried to stand up. "What do you want?" I asked and he held my wrist and pressed it. I winced in pain before he released it. "You have a package to deliver for me." He eyed me. "Why can't he send it to DHL?" I asked myself. "What package?" I asked and i got a slap in the face.