Wren Surviving Summer Novels & Stories

"Summer is a guest, and we should treat her with respect. Don't underestimate her just because she's a werewolf." Elias caught the hint of defensiveness in Coleman's tone. "Respect? Sure. But isn't it dangerous to allow someone like her into our world? It's not just about respect; it's about survival." The room fell silent as their conversation drew the attention of others nearby, eyes darting between the trio. Summer, sitting in the corner, felt the weight of their stares as she tried to appear invisible. She could sense the shift in the atmosphere, the tension thickening like a storm cloud.

He shook his head knowing I was just trying to ruffle his feathers. We get in the car and immediately we're on our way. The drive didn't take long maybe an hour and a half, we pull into the Blue Ridge Pack, everything is beautifully decorated for tonight's festivities. It's every Alpha's pride to pass his pack to his heir, so I'm sure Alpha Derrick is beaming tonight passing the torch to his son Colton. I think it's time for Justice and myself to start a family, we agreed to wait awhile after our mating, but I think we're ready. We ourselves need to secure an heir for our pack, I'll talk soon with Justice. We meet many and speak with other Alpha's and Luna's. I see one of my best friends Lun

His grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Summer, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.” I looked down and saw the new scar on his wrist. It was deeper than the last one. “Dr. Summer!” The neighbors tried to pry his hand away, but it wouldn’t budge. His eyes fluttered open in a daze, with frozen moisture at their corners. No one could tell whether it was melted snow or tears. By then, everyone could tell that he and I were far from strangers. “Summer…”

But Wren was alive against Ben’s shoulder. The villagers were alive on the old throne road. Briar Glen had not burned. Not tonight. A blue light drifted toward Wren and hovered near her cheek. She opened her eyes sleepily. “Annie?” she whispered. My body went cold. The light pulsed. Wren reached for it. I caught her hand. “Do you know that name?” She nodded. “That was my sister.” The old throne road went silent. Ben looked at me. I looked at Cassian.

He leans in as she passes, and his voice is just loud enough for everyone to hear: “This changes nothing. The Moon’s mistake will be corrected, one way or another.” Wren doesn’t flinch. She turns her head, looks Soren up and down, and says, “I survived being torn apart once. I can do it again.” The words aren’t loud, but they land like a knife in the gut. Soren hisses something back, but Wren’s already walking away, bare feet padding silent over the cold stone. The councilors left behind immediately reform into clusters, the low buzz of their plotting starting up as if the whole meeting was a commercial break in the war.

Miro circled, watching for danger. Wren sat with the burned girl, wrapping her arm in a wet cloth. "What's your name?" Wren asked. "Sasha." "I'm Wren. I was in a prison too. A long time ago." Sasha looked at her. "Did someone come for you?" Wren looked at me. "Yes," she said. "Someone came." I turned away. The guilt was a stone in my chest. We sailed south, away from the fire, away from the bodies, away from Vane.

"Adam's father—he's with Adam?" "Of course. And I'm sure they'll be starving by the time all of this is over with." My eyes follow her as she stands. "What if something bad happens? What if they really have to fight?" "Then I'm sure they'll be even more hungry. Come. Yuke is staying safe at home, so we will have to fend for ourselves in the kitchen." As I trail behind her, I ask, "Aren't you worried?" "No. Such feelings left me many years ago, Wrenley."

One of Rell's hands went down under three of them, screaming the cold-scream, and the man next to him froze, because the man next to him was Wren. She didn't freeze long. Wren grabbed a brand and waded in and burned the dead off a man she had every reason to let die, and dragged him back to the fire by his collar, and the two of them lay there in the dirt breathing at each other like they'd forgotten they were supposed to be killing each other. The hand lived. He lost the arm the cold had been in. We didn't save the next one. A girl of Rell's, young, got pulled out past the firelight and the cold had all of her before we could reach the spot. I marked where she went down so we could see to h

They left the ruined foundation on the third morning. Nine wolves now — two more had arrived in the days before departure, drawn by the same borderland telegraph that had brought the others. A young male named Cade, seventeen and freshly exiled, still carrying the particular hollowness of someone who hadn't yet decided whether surviving was worth the effort. And an older female, grey-muzzled and deliberate, who introduced herself as Wren and offered no explanation for her presence beyond: "I heard there was something being built. I know how to build things."

The only refuge he found to escape that fear, even for a moment, was in the middle of the ocean, swimming as far as he could, even though there were still limits he had to obey. Day by day, he swam through time, and the sight of fishermen at sea became familiar during his stay in Shira. No one knew when this place turned into a fishing town. Shira had so many types of fish, with an abundance so great that even tossing a line with a crumb of bread could catch a fat, hefty fish. It was a blessed spot ever since the Dylan family took over the land. It was monotonous and unchanging as the years passed and the seasons shifted. That's what Helbert thought about his whole life, believing he'd end u