The Lady In White Story Novels & Stories

Though the mark on my face suppressed most of my vampire strength, dealing with someone like her—baring teeth and claws—was no more difficult than teasing a cat. I stepped slightly to the left and, in passing, extended my foot just enough to trip her. Lily fell to the ground in an almost theatrical fashion, utterly disheveled. The crowd’s expressions shifted from shock to amusement; some even raised their phones to take pictures. I heard someone whisper, “Oh my God, does she even know who Lily is? She’s Mr. Norefax’s woman—Ethan’s stepmother!” “If Ethan finds out, she’s finished.” “At this point, not even God could save her.”

I felt the heat flowing through my blood like a second heartbeat. I opened my eyes. She was above me. Her hair wasn't dark anymore. It was glowing white, brighter than anything I'd seen before. Floating around her shoulders like sunlight on water. Her skin shimmered with power so ancient I could feel it pressing against my chest. A White Witch. I had heard stories. Legends. Women so beautiful they could make kings forget their own names. Women so dangerous entire armies had been raised to hunt them. The stories didn't do her justice. "Elara," I said.

She was just a piece of rubbish to her eyes, meant to be thrown into the trash bin again. Rhella walked away in tears. No one had loved her. No one had cared for her. She walked, not caring where her feet would bring her. She was in the middle of the road of nowhere when a car’s honk interrupted her thoughts. “Are you okay?” A woman in a lab coat greeted her. “You seemed hurt, Miss…” She jerked her head, and saw a beautiful and kind face. “I am Dr. Fiona White,” the woman introduced. “Perhaps you need a ride?”

Jasmine groaned and woke up… she lazily saw Draco who was still sleeping soundly with his one leg and hand on her body, seeing which Jasmine flushed with shyness, she quickly freed herself from his embrace and went to answer door only to see a young lady around height of Jasmine 5 feet 2 inch wearing pure white gown and with pure pearl white hair standing outside their house, her pale skin and blue eyes were complimenting her entire look. “Yes?” Jasmine questioned her with raised eyebrow. “I am here for Draco….” Lady with white hair said and turned her head to look above Jasmine shoulder from where she saw Draco sleeping peaceful on floor.

Back then, I never understood what I did wrong, why I was always the one getting blamed. However, I got it. It was not about right or wrong. It was just that I was not the one they cared about. … Liliana was there to pick out a wedding dress with Walter. They were engaged for five years then. Harriet, worried I would be hurt, gave me a look. I just smiled. Why would someone who's been through the wringer still dream about a fairytale ending? I watched them head out, but then Liliana turned around.

The beautiful woman's skirt accidentally rode up, revealing her white panties. I crouched beside her and boldly reached out one hand. The moment I touched her thigh, a soft sensation spread through my palm. It was incredibly smooth. Her black stockings were silky, her thigh was very bouncy, and the fleshy part near the top felt especially good to touch. The woman, feeling something strange near the top of her thigh, murmured drowsily, "Brent Poole? Have you come back?"

Vael began, “they told the tale of a woman who appeared from nowhere, wandering out of a snowstorm with nothing but the clothes on her back. No one knew her name, no one knew her past. But wherever she went, the wind seemed to howl louder, the nights grew longer… and people began to disappear.” My fingers dug into the wood of the bed frame. “They called her The White Witch,” he went on, “for her pale skin, her shiny hair the colour of winter glass… and the trail of ruin she left behind. Villages burned. Men who wronged her were found frozen solid, their eyes wide open in terror.” His gaze never left mine. “The story says she was cursed,” he tilted his head, “-or perhaps blessed, by something

"You're a pretty good cultivator. You've just faced the wrong opponent." The lady sighed deeply, then closed her eyes. "Just kill me." However, after some time passed, the lady did not feel anything. She slowly opened her eyes. She could see Wilbur facing the lake once more, with his hands behind his back. The lady frowned, struggling to stand up and look at Wilbur. "What are you trying to do? If you're going to take advantage of me, I'll just kill myself. You're not going to get the chance to have your way."

While Logan wondered what patient they were talking about, the servant turned and walked out of the room, coming back a few seconds later with none other than the white wolf they had rescued. Aella was dressed in a simple white slip-on dress that reached her ankles. Her feet were bare and her hair had been let down so it flowed down her back and shoulders in lush black waves. Her brown eyes were big and staring around the room in wonder as she took in the number of male wolves sitting around the table. The whole room had gone silent as the men in the seats watched her with awe and amazement. They had sincerely never seen any she-wolf as stunning as her.

Long before Lady Francesca came to Feledencia, he already knew who she was. She was the rumored scandalous lady of the Feledencia dukedom. In fact, she had rode his horse Rodnie once during his last visit here, without permission. The intriguing part was, she was on her ballgown outfit, making everyone looked at her as she gets passed them. He planned mentioned about it when they horseback ride to mountains, which unfortunately didn’t happen. Seeing his master confused, the footman excused themselves from the duchess with a polite farewell. Dynirho couldn’t come to resist and simply walked away alongside his men.