Winter Soldier Zola の小説・ストーリー

"Florence's sudden collapse might be a flare-up of an old condition or something like a stroke. We can't take it lightly. Sheila, please make sure to ask the doctor about her condition later. I'm leaving now." With that, Winter hurried away, as if terrified of running into the Strouds. … By the time Winter got home, the cold wind had dried her soaked clothes. She forced herself to shower before curling up under the blankets, her vision swimming with patches of darkness as her head pounded. She slept restlessly through the night. When she checked her temperature in the morning, it was 100.4°F.

His seductive looks and nature called women like moths around a flame. His head turned towards me after feeling my eyes on him.His lip tilted up from the effect he had on me .I brought my vampire forward,let him sense my aura. He did sense my vampire because he took a step back and his eyes grew wide. He may be the strongest vampire I had ever come across but Winter has the upper hand on him.Zander must have sensed the tension between us because he came between our staring match. I didn't have any other vampire but my wolf and vampire have . Winter hasn't stayed with other vampires before and was not familiar and my wolf simply hates vampires.

An older and experienced born omega was equal to a gamma so they became seen and referred to as that. I'd caught the bear's smell for the first time since he'd mentioned it, just when he stood up from the settee and announced its presence. Winter wouldn't have recognized and if she had she was sure to make a mental guess of what it was due to how horrible it was. It smelt like a complex mix of burning yet decomposing flesh. I rushed to the window to see, beside Poppa. *** "I'm guessing you don't have a wolf or do you?" I turned to Winter. Though I'd asked, my mind was already concluded on the subject. She didn't have a wolf. City-bred kids rarely did.

“What is?” Victoria gestured vaguely toward the Winters family. “You people.” “That narrows it down.” “The whole winter immunity thing,” she continued. “Meanwhile, Silas and I are over here pretending we’re not freezing to death while the rest of you apparently belong in snowstorms.” Silas, sitting near the cave entrance after shifting back, looked entirely unimpressed. “You complain when it’s warm too.” “That is unrelated.” Calix crossed his arms loosely. “You were complaining before we even left.”

, approaching 11 o'clock in 15 minutes. "Do you like the beach?" Mike looked at Zella, who was still busy enjoying her meal. "Not really; I almost died at the beach a few years ago." Zella drank the can of soda in her right hand. "What happened?" Mike was surprised to hear Zella say this. "Yeah, I don't know either. I've forgotten why you did it, but I drowned in ice water because of the winter weather." Zella remembered the first time she decided to join the secret agency. At first, she thought it would go smoothly, but it turned out that she was mentally slaughtered before she even met Audrey. Zella almost died because she was forced to swim in ice water, something she remembers very well.

Zara attended a winter festival held by a wealthy pack. Everything felt new and breathtaking. Crystal lights, the scent of wildflowers, laughter, and noble werewolves dressed in expensive clothes. Little Zara ran everywhere, too excited. Until a girl from an elite pack a spoiled Alpha’s daughter mocked her. A small argument turned into anger. And with one cruel shove, the girl pushed Zara into the pond. Cold water swallowed her small body. Zara couldn’t swim. She panicked, swallowed water, her nose burning, her chest on fire. The world turned dark and spun. She remembered kicking wildly, trying to survive, but her body grew heavier and heavier.

--- Solenne wrote the story of Winter's final days. She sat beside the stone bench, her notebook open, her pen moving across the page. The watcher showed her visions of Winter's life—the decades of tending graves, the quiet strength, the unwavering presence. She wrote about the grief Winter had carried, the hope she had nurtured, the love she had shared. "Winter was not a witness of the first generation," Solenne wrote. "She came after Clara, after Morwen, after Seren. But she carried their legacy as though it were her own. She kept the graves. She held the space. She stayed."

Silence returned, thick, heavy, and broken only by the howl of wind outside and the crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. It was snowing harder now, white sheets whipping against the tall windows, visibility down to nothing. The cold penetrated the stone walls, seeping into the room like a living thing, but it wasn’t cold enough. Nothing was cold enough. Not the blizzard. Not the ice in my veins. Not the centuries of discipline I’d spent building. Because the need still burned. Her. Zolani.

The Vale still smoldered. Ash drifted through the dawn air like snow, and beneath it the earth pulsed faintly—slow, wounded, alive. Zara stood at the heart of it, barefoot in the soot, her palms pressed to the ground as if listening for a heartbeat too deep for mortal ears. When she breathed, the wind followed. When she blinked, the shadows folded closer.

CHAPTER TWO POV: Zara She heard him before she saw him. The kitchen. Early. The sound of a pan hitting the stove and then his voice, low and rough the way it always was before he’d fully woken up, humming something she didn’t recognize. Zara lay in bed and stared at the ceiling and did not move. Outside the window, the world had disappeared. Completely. Overnight the snow had swallowed everything, the yard, the fence, the road, the neighbor’s red car that was usually visible from her window. Gone. Just white, unbroken and deep and still falling.