Winter Wof Novels & Stories

"Weren't you the one who came after me first?" "Yeah, I thought I was dealing with a man. Turns out I picked up a wolf in sheep's clothing." Zach couldn't help but chuckle. As he laughed, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Winter, how about letting me be your pet? I'll make you happy, make you laugh, and keep you company. We can be just like before—" "Just give up," Winter cut him off coldly. "Even pets might go crazy and bite their owners. I value my life."

"So small I convinced myself they couldn't possibly matter to the security of the pack!" "They mattered," Rowan said plainly. "...Yes," the old wolf choked out. Sabrina leaned forward another inch, her eyes narrowing. "When did Winter's name first appear in your instructions?" The old wolf froze entirely. He clearly hadn't expected the question to pivot so directly to her. His eyes darted nervously toward Derrick, who stood like a silent shadow behind us, and then back to me. "...Forty-three days ago," he admitted softly. The exact day before Winter had arrived at the palace for the mating ceremony.

Yikes, that's never a good sign. I look back at the man, almost expecting him not to be there, as I’m pretty sure I hit my head hard. He gives me another drool worthy smile, something a certain someone seemed incapable of doing. When he speaks, I almost melt at his deep soothing voice that wraps around me like a melody, the hairs on the back of my neck sticking up. My wolf even notices I can feel her trying to press forward to see what the fuss is about. She lets out a warning growl in my head before I shove her back down. She needs to calm down. I’m just looking at the guy were not getting married. “I’m Winter,” he says and I feel I almost purr in response.

I mind-linked with Winter. Winter had a black wolf with a warrior mark over his head. A crescent moon pierced by a sharp spear. The warrior wolves were born with those marks. His eyes radiated fury. Baine saw death. Winter resisted his urge to kill. “Winter, you want a feast?” Moon enquired Winter’s wolf. He preferred to be called Winter too. They had the same names. The wolf Winter nodded. “I prefer to have it cooled, alpha.” Wolf Winter expressed his mind. Moon smiled. I smiled.

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

Enthusiasm and courage are the words Nolan uses to describe Windy. Nolan smiled and nodded, "Then I'll hunt in the northeast." The two split up and ran in the chosen direction. But they never expected Ezra's enemies to have entered the forest long ago. The leader of the assassin group is a Wolf with a pretty special fur. It has a reddish brown coat that is different from the rest of the species. Next to it was a wolf with jet-black fur similar to Ezra. But if you look closely, you will see the difference between the two.

Soon, old scandals resurfaced, banks withdrew loans, partners abandoned ship, and reporters besieged the mansion. Kirk updated me. "Richard blames it all on Olive, saying she colluded with outsiders to drain the company. Liam and Neal have cut ties with the Winters and are being hunted by Richard's enemies." I paused on a page—an equity certificate for a biotech company my mother owned. In my past life, Richard had obsessed over it but couldn't unlock its technological secrets. I closed the file. "Time to let him know what it feels like to lose everything." Three days later, the Winters Group declared bankruptcy.

Then, he patiently showed me how to correct it. Another time, Raven tried to humiliate me in front of everyone, calling me a loser no one wanted after Grayson dumped me. Kane happened to walk by at that moment. He paused and casually remarked, "Ms. Slater deserves someone better." At his words, Raven's face turned livid, and Grayson's expression hardened instantly. Those were just small moments, though. What truly shocked everyone was what happened during the Winter Hunt. The Winter Hunt was one of the grandest annual events among the northern packs. Every young werewolf participated in a three-day hunting competition across the frozen plains.

"A ball? As in... dancing? With people? And shoes?" "The Winter Ball is the cornerstone of Ridge tradition," Fenris explained, looking remarkably untroubled as he sipped his tea. He reached over and gently wiped a smudge of jam from the tip of Elara’s nose. "It’s when we celebrate the first hard frost. Every member of the pack attends in their finest human attire. We eat, we drink, and we prove that we can stand upright for more than four hours without scratching our ears."

I ask as I pull off a piece of pancake and pop it into my mouth; Flora doesn’t say anything until I’ve eaten two pancakes and several pieces of apple and orange. “The Winter Wolves are the closest thing we have to royalty. They don’t sit on thrones or wear crowns but their bloodline can be traced back to when shifters first settled in America. The stories say they came from cold climates which is why their wolves are always snow white and why they settled in Alaska, apparently, if a Winter Wolf leaves the Pack and they don’t meet their fated mate, they are drawn back to Alaska like some kind of magical pull.” Flora flattens out her skirt while speaking so she completely misses the way I drop