Winter Song Book Novels & Stories

It contained records of dragon razes and attacks, which were all divided by places where the hunters had spotted or slain the beasts in that year—not only villages and towns here in the Drava but also from the other countries. “Winterrun … Winterrun Village …” She muttered as she slid her finger on the first page, containing the list of specific places. In every second that passed, she grew excited, and at the same time, nervous. “Winterrun Vill—“ “WHO goes there?” the sudden voice of the old keeper had stopped Larice. “Dammit.” She winced, closing the book. She crouched and tried to pull herself back together; the next she crawled on the floor, passing through shelf after shelf. She could h

He left the room. A fierce winter covered the forests with heavy snow-clusters and icicles, and filled ravines to their edges with drifts, so that the whole land seemed a single white plain. Great, sudden storms came, in which men and herds were lost under the pall of snow; roads grew misleading and perilous. A lonely Jaweldur howled in the distance.

Sliding her hands up the sleeves of her oversized lamb’s wool sweater she hugged her tall, slender body against the chill both from the air and her thoughts. Leaning her head against the window pane, her dark green eyes peered at the blanket of frantic white snowflakes as they billowed toward barely visible outbuildings. The howling gales of winter echoed throughout the rolling Pennsylvania valley with a resemblance of a collective of musical instruments paying homage to old man winter while they shook the one-hundred-eighty-year-old house; rattling its windows with such force that one might expect the antique dwelling to be swept into the Land of Oz.

Six “Snowflakes dance in the winter air, A magical sight, beyond compare. Christmas lights, a twinkling gleam, Filling hearts with a festive dream.” In the distance, the sound of a choir singing hymns from the nearby church wafted in an echoing manner through the air. The choir's voices blended together into a soft, otherworldly hum that seemed to float through the air. The music was like a gentle breeze carrying the voices of angels, a comforting and uplifting sound.

" Jade smiled. His smile is so contagious because I smiled with him. I have no clue how the ranks work around here. I have never been into reading novels about wolves or vampires. That was all Winter. I love reading about romance. You know, princesses stuck in a tower waiting on her knight in shining armor. "So that makes you a wolf too?" I asked Winter in a low voice. Winter slightly nodded her head before looking down at her hands as though she was ashamed. "According to everyone, my wolf never came forth because I wasn't on the pack lands when I turned eighteen. But they believe that my wolf will come forth during the next full moon." Winter spoke up.

Elaine took a refreshing bath and slipped into clean pajamas, but her respite was short-lived. Stephen's arms ensnared her once more, his kisses reigniting with an intense heat. It was a long while before their fervor subsided. Feeling drained and sticky with sweat, Elaine was too weary and drowsy to consider another shower. She sat in a daze, her feet still not touching the floor. Suddenly, someone caught her wrist. A deep, chilling voice cut through the silence. "Where do you think you're going?"

Gemma let herself inhale deeply, savoring the moment, the delicate tension, the infinite possibilities. And somewhere, in the hum of the cicadas, the creak of the porch boards, and the gentle stir of the wind, Gemma whispered to her self, a quiet, reverent acknowledgment of what the night had become: “This is where the summer wind blows.”

Elyse's First-Person POV The wedding went off exactly as planned. Music swelled through the hall. I walked down the aisle in my custom wedding dress with two flower girls guiding me along. Petals and butterflies danced in the air, their delicate scent clinging to my veil, my shoulders, and my hands. As I neared the center of the stage, I saw Mom through the gap in my veil. She was nestled in Dad's arms, tears slowly streaming down her face.

Three months after the White Lady's departure Winter had settled over the territory, blanketing the forest in white. The pack house glowed with warm light, smoke curling from its chimneys. Inside, the wolves celebrated the solstice—a festival of lights, of family, of hope. Clara stood by the window, watching the snow fall. Alistair came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You've been quiet all evening," he said. "Just thinking." "About?"

Chapter 109: The winter had settled into the bones of the village, a deep and unrelenting chill that no fire seemed to fully chase away. The days were short, the sun a pale ghost that barely cleared the treeline before sinking back into the horizon, and the nights stretched on, endless and dark, filled with the sound of wind howling through the cracks in the walls. The wolves moved slowly, their bodies conserving energy, their voices muted, the laughter of the children replaced by the quiet hum of survival.