Tristan Winters Novels & Stories

Preslie simply giggled. "You can't smash him," I frowned even more if that's possible. "Why not? You chose the other guy." Preslie grinned. I didn't think any of us knew what we were saying. I narrowed my eyes, "Orion is a good guy." "Yes but Dallas is totally in-love with you." Preslie leaned back on the couch and flipped through N*****x until she landed on Frozen which she played. "Come on! First Camp Rock, now Frozen. What is this? The sixth grade?" Ocean fumed as she continued throwing pillows around, no longer even sure what she was looking for.

The thick, suffocating high-altitude weight of the Northern Citadel had completely left my chest; the low-frequency atmospheric pressure of this valley, combined with midnight’s calibration ritual, had left my Phoenix core humming with a steady, peaceful warmth. For the first time in days, the silver-white glass cramps inside my ribs were completely gone. "They look beautiful when they aren't hidden behind an iron wall of military guards, Elena," a smooth, velvety voice murmured from the shadow of a massive weeping willow. I didn't flinch. My newly amplified hyper-hearing had tracked his elegant, rhythmic footsteps from fifty yards away. Tristan stepped onto the stone path, his long platinum

Tristan snapped, raising his voice a few decibels for the warning. “I don’t give a damn shit, Tristan!” I raised my voice as the fire crackled deeper. Its heat becoming almost unbearable, the once caressing flames, was now the whips of hot leather, a desperate plea to consume the earth I stood on. “I don’t think you understand, Jisoo. She has lost her wings, and she’s dying, there’s truly nothing I can do!” Tristan tried to reason, well-knowing of the rising heat of the wildfire within me.

“Where do you plan to go after this?” Silence followed, only to be filled by the crackling woods of the fireplace. Kael was sitting on the chair at the end of the table, looking at Tristan who had stood near the windows. “Back to my village,” Tristan replied shortly, gazing at the snowfall outside. Kael stared at the young man for a moment, then he nodded. He was dressed on his white long-sleeved garment, his chest and abdomen completely wrapped up with linen, covering the severe burn he had from his previous encounter with Lucas.

Frankie’s facial expression turned deadly serious. Tristan pushed the nerves aside. “What’s that?” “I want a hot shower. I miss those.” She watched Tristan's face light up like a Christmas tree. “I think I can manage that condition. You shower, I’ll make us some food.” ©COPYRIGHT 2025/T.MURPHY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

He absolutely refused to let anything filthy dirty Trista's eyes ever again. Time flew by, and before they knew it, it was deep winter. With only a week left before the New Year's bell, a North American cold front swept through Los Angeles, blanketing the ancient territories in a vast layer of frost and snow. And it was exactly at this point that Cassian received concrete news of Trista's return. Ironthorn Group Headquarters. The CEO's Office. Wynn clicked in on her stilettos, pushing the door open with an undeniable urgency. "Cassian, Trista's flight lands tonight! Have you actually booked the welcome-home dinner yet? Don't blame me for not reminding you."

"Maisie was too sweet. WildRose was too intense. MidnightConfidant was too rational. They were all versions of you shaped around whatever I wanted at the time." He lifted his head and looked at me intently. "But the person I love is Serena Hayes, the real Serena who gets pissed off, cries, and tells me I'm a piece of trash. That said, I'm breaking up with all of them." I froze. "What?" Tristan's fingers moved across the screen. "Goodbye, Maisie." He deleted the account. "Goodbye, WildRose." Another account was deleted. "Goodbye, ChaosPixie."

Not that never caused trouble in mafia works, they always kept a plan b because of her. Tristan starred to work under Wilson Corporation as a regional CEO and under his control, a new sector had been added to the Wilson business and that was robotics. Even that turned out to be the third best selling sectors in the company abd he worked whole heartedly to make it possible. And also the rumor about haunter faded away soon when he resigned the organisation. Timber continued his works and left the organisation as well.

I explained causing her eyes to go wide "Oh thank god I haven't done acid since senior year of college." She stated seeming relieved "So you actually have done acid?" I questioned surprised that it wasn't just a drunk idea She nodded "I used to but as I said I haven't in a long time." "Do you remember getting mad at me because I said you didn't strike me as the wild girl type?" I questioned with a chuckle She laughed and rolled her eyes "No I don't, but piece of advice when dealing with drunk Alice, don't say she ain't wild cuz she is. Alice Winters is just a boring statistics teacher but Wild Winters is a fucking riot!"

Adrian whispered, his eyes fixed on a graining camera feed. I looked at the screen. Tristan was standing near a rusted pier, his coat collar turned up against the biting wind. He looked isolated, a small figure against the massive machinery of the docks. Marcus appeared a moment later, stepping out from behind a stack of crates. He looked haggid, his usual composure replaced by a twitchy, paranoid energy. "Did you bring it?" Marcus’s voice crackled through the hidden mic on Tristan’s lapel. "I have the drive," Tristan said, his voice remarkably steady. "But I want to know who else is on the payroll, Marcus. I'm not handing over the keys to the Wolfe kingdom if I don't know who’s holding the