Winter Novels Novels & Stories

Vandamonth Imperial Palace A loud howl echoed from the deep forest, a wolf pack moving in one pace. The snow fell heavily, covering the ground and tree leaves. Children residing in the village covered themselves up, their breath cold. At night they would comfort themselves in their mother's bosom, listening to stories, sitting by the pot of boiling soup, where they received warmth. There were few birds in the air, some preparing themselves for the winter; as day passed, the snow became heavier, raining on Vandamonth nonstop.

They’d essentially had the room turned into a fireplace, surrounding us with enough brick and mortar to contain the blaze to that section. I don’t remember much from the days that followed. Only that three days later, I’d woken up to birds chirping, the sun shining brilliantly, and gorgeously bright flowers blooming—in the middle of winter—way too soon for their appearance. Within a day the biting sting of Vetur had returned with a vengeance so bitter I’d known I’d offended its current host. A fact evidenced by the frost covered grounds, lack of plants and chirping birds, and the urge to burrow beneath several layers and hibernate. I’d felt the need to call and apologize to the Vetur because

I never doubted for even a second that the two of them would always be there for me. Now as I stand on the same edge, just six months later, I am without them both. Wilder, because of a horrible twist of fate, was forever taken from me. Wyatt, though, he is gone from me and it's my own damn fault. Over the last two week, ever since Thanksgiving, it's been colder in my house than the December wind outside. I look down at the light dusting of snow, that is so rare in Alabama and I could almost believe it's a sign from Wilder. “You thinking about jumping?”

Andro has to fight to stay by his mate's side and fight off the new enemy waging a war against his family; his mafia family while protecting his identity as a vampire. CHAPTER ONE Annika’s POV In the chant of the black night, the stars were the choir, they were nights singing in an unusual pattern, singing a tone of death. Few minutes past ten, the once-cleared skies had transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black as the night laid down in a blanket of darkness.

Martina's POV " War ? In winter?" I shouted aggressively sitting down on my throne. While Loren sat beside me and tried to calm me down because I was fucking irritated. War in winter is always harsh on werewolves. Now that I think of it, king Alexander Volkov was waiting for winter to arrive so that he can have a chance to defeat the werewolves. Winter can last for five years, and vampires are okay with winter. In summer their skin burn and they can't afford to walk out of their coven's houses. Even the king Alexander Volkov hides all five years of summer in his dark palace.

Burn this place to the ground. The witch sensed the change. Her face twisted, and with a single motion she struck me. Darkness swallowed me again, but this time it was not cold. At its core I saw Rowan’s eyes, dark, yearning, and protective, and I understood that a frozen heart does not mean death. It means the strength to survive even the longest winter. Outside, beyond the mouth of the cave, the first snowstorm began, and it was not called by the witch. Rowan was coming, and with him came a vengeance that would stain the northern snow red.

Christmas was the reading of the book. This Christmas, Don's book was a novel—Norwegian, which was not a coincidence, a novel by the same writer whose essays were in the Norway reading programme. The novel was called The Dark Year, and it was about a man who spent a winter alone in a cabin in the far north of Norway, experiencing the full darkness for the first time. Don had been saving it since September, when he had finished the essays. He had placed it on the shelf above his desk, the designated holding place for the Christmas book, and had not opened it once.

I was no better than anyone else at the table, and neither was anyone else. Rolph chuckled in disbelief. "Is that right?" Elias nodded. "Yes, but I don't like to brag." Elias leaned forward. "So, tell us about yours and Kalyssa's people." "Well, we were descended from the Vikings," Rolph began. "There were witches and wizards among us on the ships. But when we arrived, we encountered wolf-shifters indigenous to Alaska. Soon, our people found Mates among the people, and the Witch-Wolf Hybrid Shifters emerged." He took a sip of his wine. "I am the Alpha of The Winterborn Pack and from a long line of Royals, as well. I wanted to take a Mate of Royal blood, as well. When I heard of Kalyssa, I kn

And now from argument to the happiness- the youngsters have decided to go for a trip to celebrate their togetherness as well as have some family time between their daily work load. The elders in both the houses were hell bend on making the earning men have a break and give some time to their wives and taking the note of that- the planner decided to take it in his hand. Nishant happily booked the trip to Norway just the way he wanted it to be. A small road trip in the campervans, Chilling pleasure at the islands and a visit to witness the most celestial heavenly and paradisiacal sight of the Northern lights- his dreams. And a few days stay at finland aswell.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Chris carrying Winter. She was completely gathered in his arms, a blanket wrapped around her. As they passed Gavin, the smell of alcohol came heavily off them. “What time is it?” Without checking his phone, Gavin answered, “Two-thirty.” Chris gave a quiet hum and carried Winter toward Crescent Lake. The island was warm year-round. Flowers bloomed, withered, and bloomed again, season after season. Mist had risen across the island, and pale purple flowers bloomed through the haze, making everything look almost unreal.