Karen White Books Novels & Stories

For them, I could pretend to be just a useless, weak Omega. Nobody knew my real truth. They just saw a poor girl in oversized clothes. They didn't know that underneath the dirt and the drab dye I used to stain my hair, I was the last surviving White Wolf. “Hide it, Aisha,” my mother’s dying words always echoed in my mind. “If the Luna ever sees your white fur, she will kill you out of jealousy. Stay small. Stay hidden.” So, I stayed small. Even when Luna Mabel treated me like dirt under her expensive shoes.

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“You have something to tell me, Harlon?” “Nope. You’re in because you’re in. Not because of my daughter.” The cryptic message was easily understood. Dad wanted the bear shifters to join the war against the hunters, but they were hesitant. “It makes a difference.” “Why?” I asked. “Tips the scales. Whoever possesses the white wolf is fated to win.” Boomer looked at me skeptically. “You have ebony hair.” “Yes.” “The opposite of white. The color of our hair matches our fur.” I hadn’t thought about the correlation, but he was right. Even the grey wolves had similar colors in human hair.

karma. I swept my hair back into a respectable bun and set off quickly down the corridor, the red lining of my cloak swishing dramatically as I headed towards Alpha Romanov’s suite. Despite everything I didn't want to let him down, White Forest was my pack and true home now and Fyre was completely loyal to our Alpha. I knocked firmly and waited for his gruff “enter”, feeling like a child once more. I was the first to arrive though and instantly felt foolish. “I’m sorry it is just me, I do not know where Bram is presently?”

He looked at her for confirmation, and she nodded. Karen was the only Black woman. She was petite and ebony brown with long black hair that ran past her shoulders. It looked like her own and not a weave. She was dressed in a nice black suit with a sequined blouse. Her skirt was cut way above the knee, and she had on heels that would have caused me to break both ankles, my shins, and my knees! "I'm ... or ... I was Johan's International Affairs Coordinator." "Karen speaks five languages fluently."

Only Karen had nowhere to go. She found a secluded corner and undressed. Then she changed into a short and walked back to the bus stop. If she got lucky, she would get a shelter and food the next morning. A few minutes later, a white Sedan pulled off, and an Afro-American pushed his head from the wheels. “Waiting for someone?” Karen smiled seductively and walked to the car. “Waiting for you, hon.” He pushed the door of the car open. “Hop in for a ride.”