Still White Veils Novels & Stories

But then I see it — a white mask staring from the trees. The same mask Silvio wore when he founded The Veil. He’s alive. And now he knows we are too.

With a heart drumming with joy, I reached out to the file and opened it. I retrieved a white paper inside and stared at it , my gaze scanning on it, grasping the content. The smile on my face faltered, replaced with a deep frown. “Divorce agreement?" I looked up, my brow knotted as confusion flashed in my eyes. Maverick nodded gently and said. “Just like you see. Sign it. I'm quitting the marriage." He simply said, his words hanging in the air. It was as if everything around me froze.

Long silk ribbons, pristine white tablecloths, white flowers, and even pearls can be found around the house. It honestly makes me want to gag. The only source of color comes from people’s clothes, but even then, many of them have dressed themselves to go along with the white theme. My eyes land on the trio that I’m here for. My father and Harper wear matching black outfits whereas Lily wears a white ballgown with a train that looks reminiscent of a bride’s veil. I roll my eyes. Could they be more obvious with their intention? Is everyone eating out of the hand of the Silvertail Pack now? It’s laughable, really!

She stood near the entrance, greeting guests with a poised smile, dressed in an off-white gown so intricately designed it could have easily been mistaken for a bridal dress. Not ivory. Not champagne. Off-white. Close enough. Too close. Cameras flashed around her as she turned gracefully, allowing photographers to capture every angle. “Mrs. Ashford, over here—” “One more, please—” “Beautiful—just perfect—” Janet didn’t refuse. She basked in it. Welcomed it. Owned it. Across the hall, Silea stood still as the stylists made final adjustments to her veil. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror.

"Vincent! If you drive away now, we'll never be husband and wife!" But he left anyway, not looking back. Grace had always loved seeing him in white, so he threw aside the black suit I had sewn for him with my own hands and changed into white. A year later, Vincent returned. By then, my belly was swollen with life, and I was holding onto another man while hosting a baby shower. And the man wore the black suit Vincent had thrown away. Vincent went mad, claiming he was my husband, but no one believed him. ...

I was trying really hard not to cry and was failing terribly. I move to the stepping stool right in front of the mirror. While Nora and Kim are wowing over the look, my eyes are glued to myself in the mirror. It’s beautiful. Not the casual type of beautiful. The type of beautiful that Bentley Brown described in the room my grandma died last Christmas Eve. “It comes with a custom-made veil,” the designer chimes, getting the veil and putting my hair into an updo to get it in. The veil is a thin, stainlessly white and long net, far broader than my dress, flowing behind me. I grab the edges of the veil to adjust it slightly so that it could be seen more from the front while actively suppressing

My insides recoiled, then became something else… warmer. Maeve Holloway stepped into the yard as if she’d never left, melting snow sliding off her boots and windblown hair pinned back into a braid across one shoulder. She wore her old Runebound battle leathers under a wool coat that had certainly seen better decades, and those eyes of hers locked onto mine like someone drawing a leash tight. “I swear to gods if you say I look worn out,” she said and tossed her gloves onto the bench.

Diana's POV The heavy iron bolt within my door didn't just snap this time; it remained withdrawn, a hollow silence that felt more like a summons to an execution than a gesture of freedom. "The Alpha is waiting," a guard’s voice rasped from the shadows of the hallway. I smoothed the skirts of the charcoal-colored silk gown Silas had left for me—a somber, high-collared garment of heavy weave that made me feel as though I were already draped in mourning. I did not reach for the lace veil. The rule was absolute: he dwelt in the dark. A veil would only make me a blind target in this kingdom of ghosts.

"A very bold presence." But when he asked about me, the crew simply exchanged wide, breathless smiles. They were so haunted by the story I had told with my eyes that words failed them. Blake, in his arrogance, took their silence for disappointment. He assumed Riley had devoured me. The stylists brought out two ceremonial robes—one of midnight silk, one of pure white cloud-fleece. They were meant to represent sister-wolves of the same pack. The head stylist gestured to me for the white, knowing the lunar light suited my spirit. But Riley lunged forward, snatching the white silk for herself.

“I don’t have anything appropriate for being kidnapped into a billionaire meeting.” Violet’s jaw tightened. “There are clothes in the dressing room.” “Of course there are,” I muttered. She stepped closer, voice lowering. “Don’t embarrass him.” I leaned in, smiling sweetly. “Don’t tempt me.” Violet held my gaze for a second longer, then turned and left. I dressed in the least “wife-like” outfit I could find—black slacks, a white blouse, hair pulled back. Not because I wanted to look nice. Because I refused to be underestimated.