White City A Novel Novels & Stories

He was right. Shadow Pack's territory sat deep within mist-covered mountains. Along its cliffs grew a rare herb that only bloomed under a full moon. Its glowing blue roots had powerful healing and calming effects for wolves -an herb nearly impossible to find outside our lands. Inside me, my wolf, Liliane, stirred. "You're no longer the Omega who used to flinch at an Alpha's growl. Go back. If anyone who once hurt you tries again—I'll tear them apart." She was right. I wasn't that weak Omega anymore. I didn't even know how to define my current rank. My Liliane was a Whit Wolf-a rare wolf beyond the pack's rarchy.

Sooner or later the whereabouts of Bryce would be exposed. Now he has no choice but to agree. "Yes, yes, but where is White City? Is it really safe?" Bache still has concerns. Why hasn't he heard of White City? Mrs. Atwell, "..." "White City is a small place. Since I recommend it to you, it is absolutely safe. If you don't believe me, I can't help it." Mrs. Atwell would hang up the phone. Bache said hurriedly, "Okay, will I send Bryce to you tomorrow?"

No one to hear me scream. The men moved closer, spreading out to cut off any escape route. Not that there was one. My heart hammered against my ribs. This was it. This was how Maddison Whiter's story ended, not in the society pages announcing my wedding to Jude Morrow, but as a body discovered behind some forgotten warehouse in the industrial district.

No daylight, no damn ventilation, just me, four walls, and the lingering scent of piss and betrayal. I wasn’t chained up like some criminal. No, they wanted me alive enough to bleed slowly. I clenched my jaw, as my thoughts drifted somewhere else with blood crusted at the corner of my mouth, the metallic taste making me growl. The only thing ringing in my head louder than the news broadcast was one word: Alessia and The White Book. That file was my damn insurance policy and my last resort to destroy everything that existed in the Mafia Family. A powerful ledger so vile, so goddamn explosive it would make the FBI piss their pants and make the Mafia run for cover.

suspiciously at Conrod. Conrod looked down in embarrassment. He stood for a couple of seconds and, unable to bear the ridiculous situation, headed away from this place. The black surface of the polished boots was already covered with a thin layer of dust, it was getting hotter outside. Conrod strolls slowly through the cozy streets of the old part of the city, if you do not go too deep into the slums, this is a very nice place with good architecture. A painfully familiar ringing tone sounds, Conrod picks up his cell phone. The black surface of the polished boots was already covered with a thin layer of dust, it was getting hotter outside. Conrod strolls slowly through the cozy streets of th

I can’t let Aiden win this challenge. As I planned all the different strategies I could use against Aiden, I was interrupted by someone. “Are you Josette Vanderbilt?” the person asked. The person was clearly a student from our school. “Yes, who’s asking?” I questioned. “Ms White requested your presence,” he answered. “She is in the East Wing, the first door on the left,” he continued. “Oh, okay. Thank you, I will be on my way.” I nodded my head at him and went.

She hoped it wouldn’t come to that; she needed to get on her way before President Violet called requesting to know what was taking so long. Stepping onto the bridge, White kept her head up, despite the movement of the bridge moving left to right, up and down, with the river, swollen from the recent rains. She listened carefully to the footsteps behind her. Some of them sounded uneasy. Then, a bit of a shout and a splash. She turned to glance over her shoulder. One of the women meant to accompany her to the end of the bridge and wait there, Mother Fox, splashed into the water on the left side of the river. Mother White paused, took a deep breath, and kept walking. She’d fallen on the side of

Orlando’s blood barrier washed from me when I lifted my face to the sky, taking all of my warmth that had been trapped underneath it. As the rain began to burrow into my bones and freeze me, White’s family had huddled underneath a lavish glass and wooden house built on the top of a hill. The front half of the house was supported by wooden beams, which they watched me silently from. I approached the mass to huddle amongst it, but White let out a snarl. When I froze, she tucked her head against her noticeably swollen middle, and watched me with her rainbow eyes. “It’s cold” I whimpered.

“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.

Who knows, but right now, I’m enjoying my life. As I sit on the couch and crack open a bottle of beer, I turn on the television. As I flip through a few channels, I come across the nightly news. This should be fun, let’s have a watch. “New York City is in mourning tonight with the death of William White. Mr. White was shot down leaving his apartment building a little while ago. The police are reaching out to the general public for any knowledge of this heinous act of violence.” Wow, that was by far the best news piece that one of my unalivings got.