Winter's Mourn 소설 & 이야기

Wind moved quieter here, softer somehow, while shadows stretched longer between the trees. That was when Celeste saw it again. Movement. White. Gone too quickly to fully process. Her breath caught softly. Farther between the trees white fur disappeared behind another ridge. Gone in an instant. She blinked once. Only snow. Something inside her tightened painfully. Like homesickness for something she couldn’t remember. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t know how. What exactly would she tell them? I think I saw a wolf nobody else noticed? Instead, she stayed quiet, but the feeling followed.

The soft hush of winter’s breath filtered through the barely open window. Snowflakes gathered along the sill, delicate and silent, like mourners gathering in reverence. Rhea sat beside the bed, her hand resting over the withered fingers of the only woman who had ever given her unconditional love—her mother.

He eventually let his hand fall. "I've caught you." The wind swept away the tent. In that eternal winter, the tyrant's nightmare finally ended.

Her tone was sweet, but her golden eyes gleamed with fear. Rowan hesitated, his voice low. “No. Dorian said… Mira’s been dead for three winters.” “Dead?” Voss’s brow furrowed. “Impossible. She’s hiding, trying to guilt us. You know how dramatic she was.” He didn’t answer. The silence pressed between them like fog before a storm. Voss sighed, feigning sympathy. “That must be it. Mira’s still angry over what happened three years ago. If she refuses to help, then fine—maybe I should turn myself in to the Elders.”

Dad's fingers trembled as he tried to open it, but he kept missing the button. Finally, Uncle Arnold reached over with a shaky hand and tapped it for him. The image was taken under the harsh light of a flashlight. The background was a stark landscape of white snow and black rock. Curled up in the snowdrift was a livid, purple-blue figure. His thin windbreaker was torn to shreds, exposing a gaunt, bony back beneath. The person's face was buried in the snow, his expression impossible to make out. But his hand—raised high, frozen mid-air—was clenched around a half sheet of blood-stained paper in a death grip.

*** Winters estate Mr. Winters stared at the news, his hand gripping his head as an overwhelming sadness consumed him. He couldn’t remember the last time a piece of news had affected him like this—was it when his wife died? His fingers pressed into his temples. He had lost his most trusted person. He had lost his son’s wife. And now, he didn’t even know how to face his son when he woke up. He turned with exhaustion. “Bring them back,” he ordered. “We should have a proper burial for them.”

His sincerity and remorse were palpable, and it was evident that he grappled with the consequences of his past actions. "I apologise for the things I said at the council. And I wish I could take it all back. But I was overwhelmed. I really apologise, and I am glad she is with you. You will be able to give her the things I couldn't. Do for her what I couldn't and protect her better than I could," Brandon expressed, laying bare his remorse and acknowledging the reality of Winter's happiness lying with me. His words resonated with genuine pain, and it was evident that losing Winter had left an indelible mark on him.

"How… How could this be…?" Seeing her anguish, Nurse Faith quickly tried to comfort her. "Chief, it's alright. You have to let him go…" "Yes, I have to let him go…" Winter's eyes turned blank as she laughed miserably. "Could you do the same if you killed the one you love the most? Can you?" Nurse Faith felt pained as she looked into those empty eyes too—she had never seen such despair, misery, and endless helplessness in Winter's eyes. Nurse Faith tried to say something but eventually breathed a long sigh as she had no words that could comfort Winter. "It's not your fault, chief."

“Zayn MacQuoid, you can’t be this selfish! I’m working hard right now. I can’t have kids!” I compromised to quell her anger. I valued her career, but she resigned so that she could take care of Charles and Caleb better. Besides, she used the money I had saved for retirement for Caleb’s wedding. My leg hurt terribly during that winter, but I was too poor to see a doctor. Moreover, the temperature at home was freezing. It made me shiver. I tried calling Layla for money, but she hung up on me repeatedly. I could not hold on since I was old. In the end, I froze to death.