White Bird Book Novels & Stories

"How did you know it's that big though? I mean, how did you explore it if it's that big? Are there planes or horses?" "Hahaha, no, it was none of those. There were horses too — gorgeous, with beautiful hair, and noble-looking; however, we mainly used Winter Cranes, large majestic birds with two angelic colors, either a shade of pure white or as black as obsidian. They were extremely beautiful and talkative. Did I mention they can sing? Their voices are as heavenly as you could picture, enough to make musicians lose their profession. When they sing, the birds gathered, and the horses stopped neighing. Butterflies laid around them." "Such a beautiful scene."

“I will have the little birds name, so I can break it’s hollow bones.” “The bird is dead,” Brax interrupts, a few of the wolves backing away from him, having seen my brother kill for less. But the three of us know, Brax is just as safe as I am. “Ripped her heart out myself.” “Good… good…” Talon claps his hands before stalking toward us. “Three mates, I’m told. Lucky bastard.” He walks past Brax and I, stalking toward Rhett. I shake my head at Rhett, warning him to stand down as my brother appraises him like a man in a super market trying to pick out fruit. “Mhm. Solid bones. Nice teeth. I approve.”

“Come look at this.” I wrapped the blanket tighter and joined him. Outside, in the glow of the lantern light spilling through the glass, a small white rabbit hopped through the deep snow near the cabin wall. It paused, ears twitching, then dug at something under the drift. “Just a rabbit,” Ethan said, voice warm with relief. He set the poker down and turned to me. “Scared the hell out of us over a damn bunny.” I laughed, the sound was shaky. “I thought someone followed us up here. Ryan or… I don’t know.”

After I got it I pulled out a chair and sat in front of the table near it by the window. "Deceptive," I read in the written title of the book, I opened it in turn and what popped up to me was a picture of a large creature that was half human and wolf, its body full of feathers. “He has no death, to this day he is still alive, trying to save the woman he first loved and wants to be with for life,” I read here. There was some spark that flowed through my being. I wasted no more time and I opened the book, but my torn eyebrows met its pages, even if I looked over and over I could not read anything, until I got to the back of the book and there was I noticed a very small letter.

A shrill, high-pitched chatter among the ramblings and insults of my birds. Jangling the bangles on my right arm I send out a gentle vibration across the ground and towards them, my eyes remaining tight shut as I visualise among them the single bird which dares to encroach upon my brood without invitation. Cutting through black feathers, raven claws, leaves, and beaks, my mind's eye comes to rest on a surprising sight. A white as snow raven with blood red eyes and a beak the colour of ivory, standing proud in the centre of my flying hierarchy; the little bold ingrate.

Unfortunately, they left empty-handed. However, these two groups of people were not aware that every word and action was seen by a large, snow-white bird in the sky above them. Once the two groups of people left with nothing, the giant bird whistled in the air. Then, it flapped its wings and flew across the sky as fast as lightning, moving toward the distance. An hour later, the giant snow-white bird arrived at a remote foot of a mountain in Darnley Valley. There was a wilted tree growing in the area covered with snow, and it appeared lonely.

Pawn Clara got confused. "Pecan Zorro yew," Bishop Eloise repeated the bird's name with a laugh. Pawn Clara went a little closer and started looking carefully at the bird. It was a white bird about 8 feet tall, with red eyes that looked like two red pearls on white clouds. It was very beautiful to look at. Her heart skipped a beat when it turned to her and flapped its wings. The feathers were as soft as down, and so shiny she could see her reflection in them.

Pawn Clara got confused. "Pecan Zorro yew," Bishop Eloise repeated the bird's name with a laugh. Pawn Clara went a little closer and started looking carefully at the bird. It was a white bird about 8 feet tall, with red eyes that looked like two red pearls on white clouds. It was very beautiful to look at. Her heart skipped a beat when it turned to her and flapped its wings. The feathers were as soft as down, and so shiny she could see her reflection in them.

Neither option comforted me, but being the White Wolf wasn't about comfort. I would have to speak with Axton first to hear what he has to say about it. His perspective had a way of grounding me, even when I didn't want to admit it. Once I got home, I grabbed the books Axton had brought me and carefully went through them one after another. The pages were old and smelled faintly like dust and pine, probably a result of being kept in the library for decades. I read slowly at first, scanning for anything that caught my attention, then faster when the information became repetitive.

Confusion riddled my features, "My wings aren't white or fully gold to rule." "You were born to rule," Zora squared her shoulders and lifted her chin in the air, "that's why you were willing to give up everything for your people. Keep your wings hidden. No one's seen what they look like. When the time comes for you to take your place, all they will see is a set of white wings that emerged from your mating bond." "You can't be honestly suggesting what I think you are," I stared at her flabbergasted. "I am," holding her hands out—palms facing up, a blinding white light flashed into existence before vanishing just as quickly. In its place, lying on her palms, sat the second half of the book. Zo