Winter Swan Novels & Stories

Her eyes were as innocent as a deer's, making me want to protect her. I would never forget how she had pulled at my sleeve with her eyes sparkling when we were out on the grasslands. "Nathalie, look at the great migration, isn't it amazing?" That dear Janet, just like that, was gone. Every time I thought of it, I could not help but cry.

Against the backdrop of the firs, she was as delicate and pristine, as deceptive and contradictory in this fugue as a swan’s feather. “What can she want?” Dianna whispered as we parted with our sleeping bags and rose to our feet. “Barry—oh heilige Scheisse.” As though her purpose had been fulfilled with our roused attention, the girl’s watch was finished. She was now walking toward us, the wind snatching at her hair, the scraps of clothing she wore, turning them to spectral, billowing flames. We were rendered immobile as the child placed one bare foot over the other in the shin-deep snow, leaving shifting impressions of her passage behind her. As she neared the shelter she stopped momentaril

Samantha A golden wolf walked up to me and spoke, "We need to return," and suddenly after it spoke, it turned to mist, and I was standing on the grounds of my pack settlement. On my left was a group of wolves led by a silver wolf. While on my right another group of wolves stood led by a bronze coloured wolf and a Silver wolf with bronze highlights. It was a standoff between both wolf groups. The environment was filled with burning houses and dead wolves. It was like a war zone. When I looked ahead, I saw my mother emerge from the smoke, she walked to me and changed to a silver wolf and spoke, "Selena Samantha Moonchild is time to return to your pack," Everything turned to mist.

851 AD The first snow of the winter was building on the horizon, casting out its tendrils of freezing winds to clear the way. Harvest was well and truly over and the men had returned from their hunting trips to now help with the final touches in securing the Pack's dens for the winter. The season could be cruel here but the wolves had learnt how to fare against the harsh conditions without the aid of the human settlement some fifteen kilometres to the south. But that was because the Northern Star pack had something that other packs didn't; their Luna was a witch.

She was hungry, tired, and alone, with nothing to keep her company but the sound of her own footsteps. She made her way down to the shore, her boots crunching in the snow, and as she drew closer, she saw that the lake was not yet frozen. The water was dark and still, reflecting the winter sky above. She could feel the cold emanating from it, but despite that, an urge came over her to wash the rotting food that had been thrown on her. With a deep breath, Sierra waded into the water, gasping as the icy chill enveloped her. She scrubbed her skin with her hands, shivering and teeth chattering, but the cold was invigorating in a way.

Flash back “ Commander Robins, I secured the target, obtained the answers we were looking for. I don’t think the target is of much use to us anymore. It looks as though he is touch and go. I had to use extreme measures to get the answers we sought. He was tight lipped for a while. The primary target is located in the middle of the Arctic, held up on one of the water rigs used for aquamarine sciences. He stated that the target has about 20 armed guards. 3 that follows him wherever he goes. We had schematics of the rig right here, sir.” I pointed at the spot on the map to where the rig was located and pulled out blueprints of the rig. Commander Robins and I then went over each possibility at p

Disbelief, shame, lust, mortification, fear, desire. Swan met his gaze and did not say a word. She stepped her legs a bit wider apart and rocked her hips toward him, so that he had a clear view of what her hand was doing. With the other, she tugged down the top of her dress and cupped a breast, gently teasing her nipple with thumb and forefinger. Kit's throat and mouth worked. He licked his lips and tried again to speak. Before he could, Swan shook her head silently at him.

(Aurora's POV) The Winter Moon Festival was approaching, but my heart held no celebration. For months now, Alexander had been gone without a trace. But today, the snow had finally lifted, and sunlight gleamed across the territory roads. My black SUV raced toward the borderlands of our territory. Snow-laden mountains and pine branches flashed pure white on either side. I pressed my face against the window, watching the landscape blur. Most of Silverstream Lake was frozen, the surface glittering like diamonds in the sunlight. But in places kissed by the sun's rays, golden ripples danced along the banks, breaking through the icy cover.

One clawed hand raised, black blade glinting, aimed for my throat. I twisted. Too slow. The blade descended. Then it stopped. Suspended in mid-air. The hybrid froze, body rigid, claws inches from my fur. I looked up. Winter. She stood twenty feet away, hair whipping in a wind that didn’t exist, hands raised, eyes glowing like twin storms, silver lightning crackling inside them. Frost spread from her feet in jagged patterns across the grass. The air around her shimmered, cold, sharp, alive. She chanted, low, ancient words I didn’t understand. Her voice echoed, layered, like a hundred women speaking at once.

And somehow, that tiny fissure was more dangerous, more terrifying, and more hope filled than the solid, impenetrable glacier had ever been. “Spirits of the mountain,” Jax breathed, finally moving. He walked over to the crashed sconce, nudging it with his boot as if to confirm it was real. “I think I need a drink. A very, very large drink.” He looked at Winter, his expression a mixture of awe and terror. “Do you have any idea what you just did?” Winter shook her head, still trembling. “I ...I don’t know. I just.. I saw it falling.”