The White Death Novels & Stories

They were beings of incredible power and kindness, who had only sought to live in harmony with others. As I flipped through the pages, I found more references to their downfall. The text spoke of how the white wolves' refusal to fight back had sealed their fate. They had believed in peace and harmony, not in violence and conquest. This made their extermination all the more tragic. They had been betrayed by those they had welcomed and trusted. A particularly poignant passage described the last stand of the white wolves. Surrounded and outnumbered, they had faced their attackers with dignity, choosing to protect their young and the most vulnerable among them rather than fight. It was a heartbr

Instead of the usual heat I felt, I could now feel a very fierce cold. Thankfully, I was not alone. i never even knew that I had back up, and this wasn’t even about Alex or the Africans. From the depths of my already dying and suffocating soul, the mighty and powerful legacy of my ancestors, the White Wolves emerged with full speed. This was just like a significance of goodness and purity in this forbidden river of darkness and death, of pain, agony and damnation. I had thought this was the end, I had thought I would die under water, but this was far from being over.

“Shh… It’s okay, granny. It’s okay. I’m sorry that scared you.” ~ Meanwhile, Heidi paces the living room while biting subconsciously at her nails. She scrolls through the internet, searching for anything that could help, since she doesn’t have a number to call. One of the news headlines catches her attention, so she accesses the link and peruses the article. (It’s Black Saturday today, as an explosion claims the lives of White Group’s Chairman, Griffin White, and his husband, Tad White, at the White Braevalle Mansion in the early hours of December twenty-eight.

The world had descended into chaos, and every day felt like a struggle to keep hope alive. The fever was spreading faster than anyone had anticipated, and the infected were becoming more aggressive. Entire cities were falling one by one. The streets were empty save for those who had already been overtaken by the virus, their grotesque, zombie-like forms stumbling mindlessly through what remained of civilization. It felt like the end was drawing near, and even the most optimistic people were beginning to lose faith.

My voice grew even more ethereal as I said, "Wendy's a mother. Why didn't she stop you when you had Zane go out and buy that dress? "Why couldn't it wait until the next day? It was so dark and cold that night. Zane must have been terrified when he died. Even during his last moments, he'd clutched that white dress so tightly, hoping you would praise him." "Enough!" Louis shouted, his voice trembling. Consumed by guilt, he slammed his fist against his own head.

In my state of utter depletion, I forced myself to believe that everything crazy about tonight—from the solid chest that appeared in front of the truck to the wolf ears in the mirror—was nothing more than a toxic hallucination. On the borderline between consciousness and coma, I faintly felt the warmth of Nanny’s hand as she pulled up the blanket for me. The room sank into a quiet darkness, but amidst the rumbling thunder outside the window, a whispering voice, trembling and laced with dread, slipped into my fracturing subconscious: "The late Madame's seal... has finally broken. The legendary White Wolf bloodline can no longer be hidden..." The sharp creak of the medical kit being tightly gr

I was living for revenge. I waited until midnight, when the pack village was completely asleep and the patrols were focused on the outer borders. I couldn't leave my brothers here like this. I carried them, one by one, into the deep woods behind our cabin, near the hidden clearing where our parents were buried. I didn't have a shovel. I didn't have any tools. But I didn't need them. As the last surviving White Wolf, a royal lineage of pure power, there was a hidden, monstrous strength buried deep inside me. I fell to my knees in front of my parents' old, overgrown graves and began to dig into the earth with my bare hands.

Unfolding the rough paper under the dim candlelight, my breath completely seized inside my throat, as I read the content of the letter: "THE WHITE WOLF, CHILD OF PERDITION, SHALL BE KILLED BEFORE HE DESTROYS OUR WORLD."

Golden eyes turned south, toward where the Frostmoon Pack lay. That meek, timid Ella had died on the coronation altar. The one standing here now was the real me. The legend of the white wolf started tonight.

"There are stories. Most of them sound impossible. Entire settlements erased. Entire bloodlines gone. Villages burned by white fire." Several elders exchanged uneasy glances. "What is white fire?" Sienna asked. The elder turned toward her. "No one knows. That's what made it terrifying. Wolves survive ordinary fire. We heal. We regenerate. But white fire consumed everything." His voice lowered. "My grandfather said survivors described it as moonlight burning. Wolves turned to ash before they could shift. Entire territories vanished overnight. No bodies remained." The silence that followed was absolute. Then Everett finally spoke. "I've never heard any of this."