Winter Soldier Zola の小説・ストーリー

Zael says right outside the tent. Willow laughs but quickly stops when she see the frown on my face. “What?” she shrugs. “I think he’s funny.” “Come in, Zael.” Zael unzips the tent and comes inside, shaking the snow off. “Fuck, it’s cold.” Willow hands him a towel and sits next to me, shivering and shaking like one of Adare's toys. I pull her against me and put my arms around her. “You know you can’t handle the cold,” I say.

An obsidian stone is inside my seal, and the guards fall over themselves to let us inside once they know who I am. The wall is ridiculously tall, made of thick, reinforced steel. I crane my neck back, move my hair back to see it all. The portly guard pulls a lever, and a portion of it lowers. Clunky and groaning, the ice flys out, the gate forcing its way open. The gate lowers completely, warm water slowly trickles out, and the inside of Estate Eclipse is steaming. I grab onto Dante and he helps me past the blocks of ice until we cross the other side of the gate.

Driven by pure instinct as a doctor, I rushed over and immediately began performing CPR on him, but he suddenly grabbed my hand. I shouted in panic, “Let go! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” His eyes were unfocused, as if covered by a thin layer of fog, a sign that his consciousness was slipping away. “Summer.” He murmured my name softly, then pulled open his coat. Inside, carefully protected against his chest, was a perfectly preserved Skyspire snow lotus. “The lotus repairs damaged heart channels. You’ll get better. You won’t have to suffer anymore.” John’s obsession stunned all the people that were present on that moment.

POV: Amira Cross The cold cut deeper than any blade. It chewed through the flesh on my feet, gnawed at the bones in my fingers, and sank into my lungs like a death sentence. Snow whispered around me like ghosts laughing, while blood—mine—streaked the white beneath me in crimson trails. I didn’t know how many days I had been walking rather did I know where I was going. I just knew I couldn’t stop. Not until I collapsed or disappeared.

**Zara/Reika** The memory came with a bell, it's ring deafening my ears as the fog in my head cleared up slowly. The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow, so much snow that they reached my knees when I wadded through them. Hanging from the trees were colourful lanterns which were painted with different types of wolves. I remember this. It was many years ago. On the day of the winter solstice. The day I met Kaid as a kid.

Together. Hands tight, muscles seizing, bodies bucking. Their hips jerked through it like their brains were still trying to climb into Lior’s body, like the fantasy wouldn’t let them go until it wrung every drop from them. Meanwhile in the kitchen, Mrs. Finch raised an eyebrow as powdered sugar whooshed across the table. “Zara Anderson, that’s not a sprinkle. That’s an avalanche.” Zara beamed proudly, cheeks dusted in white. “It’s snow! For the winter theme.”

Zara’s POV Saturday dawned cold and bright, frost silvering the grass beyond my dorm window. I woke up shivering under thin covers, my breath fogging in the dim dawn light. Wolf sports day. Great. The entire academy was buzzing about it all week, but all I cared about was calling Aunt May. My mind burned with questions — about Mira Blackwood, about the journal hidden under my pillow, about why my name kept popping up in places it didn’t belong.

“I love you. I’m not leaving you to fight alone.” My throat closed. Zander shifted again,wolf, massive, silver. “We move. Now.” We ran back into the fight. Hybrids lunged. I tore through one, claws in its gut, teeth in its throat. Winter beside me, frost exploding from her hands, freezing a rogue mid-leap. Zander took another, ripping it apart. We fought side by side,blood, snarls, magic. Winter chanted,low, steady, foreign words rolling off her tongue, curling in the air, frost and lightning answering them:

“The terrain was difficult. The interference from the Sterlings and the Cross network was ....” “The terrain?” Lord Zima interrupted, letting out a dark, mocking bark of laughter. Zima was the youngest of the four, dressed in a suit that cost more than a small hospital. “You are a Volkov, Viktor. Your people were born in the snow. You don't get to blame the terrain for letting a bleeding woman and a nanny outrun a tactical unit with night optics.” “It wasn't just a woman,” Viktor said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. “It was Evelina Prokofiev.”

As soon as Hazel left, Zoe, my wolf, suddenly spoke up. She called out my name, “Lola.” “Zoe, are you all right? You have been very quiet.” “I don’t know why, but ever since I found out that you were pregnant, I have become very tired, and I keep falling asleep. I woke up today because of this painting.”