Tristan Winters Novels & Stories

Tonight, I was finally going to meet Tristan Hayes, the man who had dared to entertain my fiancée, the man they called Titan. Dmitri, his loyal, if somewhat brutish, heart, had finally delivered. He slid the file across my desk earlier, a thin dossier containing the details of the ghost who haunted my waking thoughts. Tristan Hayes. Surgeon, Stripper. Apparently, possessed of a physique that could make a saint forget his vows. Ironic, considering the vows my fiancee apparently forgot. The rage had been building for weeks, simmering just below the surface, threatening to boil over. But now, I had a focus, a release valve for the pressure.

Tristan said. Billy as been Tristan's friend since they were young and he became his personal assistant when he started his company ten years ago. Billy was the only person that knew Tristan's face. Tristan and Billy had another friend named Ethan, he is the owner of Lamwills Entertainment where Tristan and Billy often spend their free time. Not even Ethan knows that Tristan was the owner of Grayson. Tristan decided not to tell Ethan because he was known to have a big mouth. "Do you want me to find out more about her?" Billy asked Tristan.

His presence was not loud, but it demanded silence. When his gaze finally found us, he took a slow step forward. “So this,” he said, voice deep, smooth, carrying easily over the sound of the rain, “is the Red Fang Pack.” I did not move. “It is.” He studied me, his expression unreadable. “I am Tristan and I’ve heard much of you in recent moons,” he said, walking slowly along the yard. “Whispers reach even the crown, about a pack reborn, a war fought between shadows, and a lady who stands where most men have fallen.”

“Instinct.” He scratched at his eyes, and I noticed the shadows beneath them. “Didn’t you sleep?” “My axe disappears if I fall asleep,” he replied, “and you were cold.” I should’ve felt terrible, but instead, a surge of warmth filled my center at the kindness. “Thank you.” Tristan shrugged. “Be glad you weren’t born in the Northern region. You wouldn’t survive your first winter with how you react to the cold.” I couldn’t argue with it, choosing instead to throw my pack over my shoulders. “Let’s climb.”

He works too hard. [Year Eight. Axel wants to make me the Luna no matter what, but the elders threatened to kill themselves if he did... Never mind. Being by his side is enough.] [Last Month. A she-wolf named Vanessa showed up. She's his fated mate. I'm a little jealous... but I trust Axel. He told me his heart belongs only to me. Just like my heart is completely his…] Ten years. No matter which old notebook he opened, it was always the same. Seraphina's world was pitifully small, with room for only him.

Bright cars raced through impossible tracks while explosions and engine sounds blasted from the speakers. “I’ve never actually played a video game before.” Tristan stared at me like I’d confessed to never seeing the sun. “You’re serious?” I laughed quietly. “My aunt and uncle weren’t exactly the fun type.” A grin spread slowly across his face. “Okay, that’s actually tragic.” Tristan was different from his brothers, he was youthful and hadn’t fully hardened yet. Though the gun casually resting beside him on the couch definitely ruined part of the innocent image. He pulled the headphones off completely, revealing hopelessly messy curls that looked like he hadn’t brushed them once all day.

The same cold, calculating fury. He closed the door behind him. “Professor Voss,” he said, voice low and venomous. “You look like shit. Still trying to run, I see.” I scrambled back against the pillows, heart slamming. “You. How did you find me? Why are you here?” Tristan laughed, a cold, mean sound that sent chills down my spine. “Because the game isn’t over. I’ve been waiting five years. Watching you crumble. Watching you lose everything. And now I’m here to finish it.”

"God, you do sound like a pom, you've definitely been here too long," Tristan teases over the way I unintentionally pronounced yoghurt in a British accent. "Have not! Although the winters here are chilly, I miss our summer Christmases." "That's okay, I'm here to keep you warm." I bite my lip, loving how close he is to me. "So, what are you doing all the way out here?" He smirks at me, his gaze full of warmth. "I think you have an idea, no?"

Tristan rolled his hands into fists, trying to hold his anger, so he continued to listen. “What made me realize it was Terrowin’s doing is that the way your mother and sister got killed was the same way I killed Terrowin’s wife. And that became the turning point in my life. I asked myself … what have I done? How did it all end up to this? I thought that they had already got you captured or killed, so I decided to escape this country. Then years later, I found a woman who brought life into my empty and miserable heart once again … after our wedding, I knew I had to work for our needs and for my son … and so I joined the dragon hunters.”

"Because her husband has just returned from his mission in the North. Master Tristan is back." The moment the name left her lips, my heart clenched so tightly it felt like it was being squeezed by a fist of ice. The air left my lungs. Tristan. He was the Alpha of the WinterStone Pack, Mira’s husband, and the man I had secretly, deeply loved for years. He promised to me that even without the true bond, he’d convince my father for her marriage.