Winter Novels & Stories

We walked to the arena. I felt something cold on my cheek. Kaya looked up to the sky. Tiny white snowflakes had begun to come down. Winter was officially here. Kaya mind linked me: "Will the snow stop, or will it just keep coming like it does in the North? Once it starts, it never stops until the spring." I smiled at her. "No, it will stop and start and stop again. It does not snow every day."

She was an intruder in this frozen domain, an unwanted guest in a realm ruled by winter's wrath. With each step, the snow crunched beneath her sandals, sinking up to her knees. The wind relentlessly whipped at her clothing, biting through her layers and numbing her limbs. She struggled against the blizzard's assault, stumbling forward, her body weakened by the bitter cold, her muscles aching with fatigue.

65 In the midst of the soft whispers of falling snowflakes, I cautiously made my way beyond the grand doors of the snowy castle manor. The air was sharp and cold, and the floors beneath my boots were uniformly blanketed with snow. The entire world around me had transformed into a winter wonderland—so, this is the North. The castle's majestic turrets stood tall, resembling silent sentinels against the canvas of the pristine, snow-covered landscape.

AKIO'S POV The cold breeze blew and snows started dancing in the air. I shoved my hands in the pocket of my winter coat and blew a tired sigh. My breath was thick, noticeable in the cold temperature. I really hate being summon in places like this. I hate the cold. The winter season to be precise. The snow is a pain in the eyes. And the snow that covers each roof and road coloring it all white, always ticks me off.

In this life, it is said that there are only two choices: to use or to be used, to save or to be saved. Regardless, there was one thing I had to do - survive! “Don’t fool me! I know your schemes and what you are playing behind my back!” Rage boiled in his veins. “You may have my surname, but you’re still nothing, Scarlette Scott. Don’t forget that.” How could someone display such blatant disrespect and arrogance? Ha! This man believed he could brand anyone with his pride! But not me! Not me, Storm Scoville! I will make sure your arrogant behavior is humbled and put in its rightful place!

Lila Montgomery has loved the cold Adrian Hale since they were children, but her feelings remained a silent secret. When his world crumbles after his lover walks out, Lila seizes her chance to heal his heart. Proposing a marriage of convenience, she makes him a promise: she’ll do whatever it takes to win his love. Surprisingly, Adrian agrees, and for a fleeting moment, Lila believes her dream is within reach. As he begins to show glimpses of care and affection, her hope blossoms. But just as she starts to imagine a future together, Adrian’s ex-lover returns, reigniting old flames. And with that, he asks for a divorce. Heartbroken but determined to protect her dignity, Lila agre

A crescent moon nestled in faintly clouded glass, with three tiny snowflake crystals dangling from the edge like frozen stars. She reached out, fingers hovering just above it, heart tightening. WinterMoon. Her home. Or… the home she left behind. The sound of the crowd softened behind her. The music faded. That charm—that moment—was WinterMoon. The night skies. The quiet hush of snowfall on the hills. The scent of pine and frost and something wild. It was the silence of the woods and the hum of belonging. Her throat tightened. The warmth she’d felt only moments ago didn’t vanish—but it dimmed. The edges of it curled in on themsel

His beard was trimmed, his hair was slicked back, and although he was utilizing a silver-topped cane, he looked ten years younger than the man I’d seen last night. “Minus, good morning. You okay? You’ve got a goofy look on your face.” “To be honest, I expected you to be wearing a Santa suit, face down in a puddle of whatever the fuck I saw in that punchbowl,” I said, motioning toward the kitchen. “Jägenogg. It’s one of Warthog’s holiday traditions.” “It smells like a fucking chemical weapon,” I said. “No wonder you have cancer.” Cutter laughed. “I don’t drink that shit! You think I’m crazy?”

Shooting the Breeze The photoshoot had been scheduled for midsummer and the weather outside was beastly, but because the ads needed to look like they had been taken in the fall or winter, Helen and Alexander’s wardrobe selections were extreme. Alexander was stuck wearing a dark gray sweater and a Matrix-style ankle-length overcoat while Helen was wearing thigh-high black suede boots. Trevor kept on talking about texture, so she was wearing a tweed skirt, an exceptionally shiny cream blouse, as well as an overcoat that wasn’t completely unlike Alexander’s. Trevor had seen the shots of Helen wearing the scarf and decided they needed one as a prop as well. It was

God fucking damn it! The weather only got worse as she plowed through the drifts. Her vision was reduced to a blanket of white outside of her limbs. She finally glanced back, unable to make out any sign of the beast behind her. Any slight hope his absence caused died when an off-key humming of “Paint it Black” came to her with the next freezing blast of wind.