Where Winter Meets Summer Novels & Stories

she replies, smiling. Oh, wow, that went better than I thought it would, “Promise? You aren’t just saying that?” I question, “Promise. We are on the same page.” She answers. I instantly relaxed, knowing we were thinking the same, for now, but there was a chance my recent thoughts would reappear, but I will just continue to fight them for the rest of our time because after the summer, we go back to our lives and possibly not see each other. “What do you want to do today?” I ask, “Or do you want to write some more?” I added.

My front seat allows me to watch the scenery outside; a simple joy I didn’t realize how much I missed. Although, so far, all I’ve seen of Dema Mortem is vast forests. We’ve been following the same small, winding road for days now. Early yesterday the lush greenery turned to a frozen winter wonderland, and the wagons slowed ever so slightly as the horses had to cut a path through deep snow drifts. The sun is high in the sky and the air is pleasantly cool, which, considering how far north we are, probably means we’re fast approaching the hottest day of the summer, which also happens to be my birthday.

As winter deepened, the Echoes found themselves filled with anticipation for their upcoming Winter Festival, an idea born from their desire to celebrate the season and foster community spirit. With each passing day, they worked diligently to plan an event that would honor the Whispering Woods and invite others to share in their love for nature. One crisp morning, Jace gathered his friends in the clearing. The air was filled with the scent of pine and the excitement of fresh snow underfoot. “I can’t believe the festival is just a week away! We need to finalize our plans,” he said, his enthusiasm infectious.

For the first time, Sieghal set foot again in his hometown, Shira—a small fishing town in North Yorkshire, England. It's not precisely sprawling but beautiful enough to be remembered as a place full of charm. Shira is this quaint little town nestled among cliffs and tall hills, flanked by a few mountains and rolling hills. Shira's sunsets are top-notch, the best anyone could find anywhere. It should be a perfect place to unwind from all life's chaos. Yet, for Sieghal, Shira is the last place he wants to be.

At the cabin, Xander and Isabella discovered a new rhythm as the chilly hold of winter gradually gave way to the warmth of spring. The melting snow uncovered bright flowers, green grass, and the fresh smell of the earth coming back to life. The cold, quiet mornings transformed into lively scenes filled with soft laughter, the inviting smell of coffee brewing, and the cheerful birds singing outside the window.

I followed the other wolves to the developing neighbourhood. I got there and found a beta she-wolf engaged in battle with four betas. What the hell is going on here? I sniffed the air for her scent Summer was here. “Stay away from me…” her voice was far and pained. I followed her scent to a finished two-story house. The front door was broken in. Alpha Blake had his hand around Summer’s neck. Her feet dangled off the ground as she struggled to breathe. Not my mate! “E-Ezra,” Summer rasped.

We can have men search the city, but she is more likely to go north or so along the river,’ I reply. I remember Kaiya and her friend Amina spending a lot of time along the river on their day off, especially during the summer months, but Autumn has been creeping in and it nears winter. The river is far too cold to swim in at this time of year, even for werewolves and her wolf is either dead or very weak. I still wouldn’t put it past her to follow the river or to jump in if she felt desperate. What desperation would drive her to leap? What will I do if I find her? What will I do if I don’t?

He thought about the winter between-time inside and the summer between-time outside, the community centre holding both. He thought about the between-time bench as the section's summer — the way the Farrow platform gave the December light and the south edge gave the June sun and the section held both. He thought about the community centre holding the between-time in every season, the bench for the warm months and the weight-bearing room for the cold. He thought: she has drawn the section's summer.

“You’re right though—this place is awful in the winter. But come summer, it becomes everyone’s idea of paradise.” Jeanne offered a slight smile, stepping beside him. “Everyone loves the ocean. During the summer, the coast becomes the most longed-for escape.” “That’s true,” Hector agreed. They stepped outside, the crunch of thin ice beneath their shoes a crisp reminder of the lingering cold. He led her to the car, opening the passenger door with a familiarity that was beginning to feel... natural. Before she could protest, he was already fastening her seatbelt, his fingers brushing against her coat.

she answered, "But we have tourists in the summer and winter months. In summer, they come for nature walks and treks. The scenery is something, is it not?" I nodded, even though I really hadn't taken much notice. Our own pack lands were surrounded by similar surroundings, with the benefit of no humans. Taking my nod in agreement with her question, she continued, "In the winter, we attract the skiers. Our slopes are such that we can cater from beginners to advanced skiers."