White Emperor Novels & Stories

"The Emperor who fought the Divine Dragon alone in Grisaia and tamed it. He's not just a powerful man but an immortal born from a Goddess's blood." Upon hearing the information about the Emperor, Finesia wasn't able to think straight. There's no way that the Leonardo she met is the Emperor himself, it's impossible. "Is there any other information about him? Like his eyes... yes, his eyes! What's the color of it?" Finesia asked remembering the sparkling color of azure eyes of the man she met. "It's like a color of an ocean-" Jeneva wasn't able to finished her words when Finesia slammed the table, she looks exhilarated as she grabbed Jeneva's hands while her eyes were sparkling.

"Okay!" Meanwhile, Long Chen, who had destroyed the black skin of the three-eyed creature, was holding his golden dragon spear. The white light trembled when it saw the golden dragon spear in Long Chen's hand. It was a spear it knew very well, and it had been a long time since it had seen that weapon. "D-Dragon Emperor? Are you the Dragon Emperor?" The white light asked Long Chen. "I am not the Dragon Emperor! I am me, don't confuse me with the Dragon Emperor you know!" Long Chen replied seriously, staring at the white light.

Silent at first, then with increasing intensity of anger, embarrassment, and pent-up pain, he bursts into tears. Seventeen-year-old Emal is the youngest pup of Alpha Marcus, ruler of the White Fur Pack and the Alpha King of Alacia. Unlike other werewolves in the pack, Emal has never showed any significant powers, except for an unusually heightened sense of smell—something he has kept secret, fearing the disgrace it would bring. In a kingdom where strength determines status, his lack of abilities is seen as a taboo. Despite this, his father has named him the future Alpha, against all odd –mockery and skepticism.

He was born to be the king of his people. I frowned. I stared at every picture of him. He was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He was holding a fish rod standing near the water pond. He was looking so cute but his face wasn't giving any expression. He must be eight years old in it. I moved to the second picture. My heart picked a race. He was holding a samurai sword. It was hard to pluck my gaze from his beautiful face. He wasn't smiling, not even for show. I slithered forward in hope of getting his smiling picture.

Levi finally uttered, offering Wyatt an apologetic smile. "There are many white wolves." Hank laughed, shaking his head, like this information was of no use, but like Wyatt, I knew that was not the case. "No, there are many white furred wolves, but few actual white wolves, who descend from Selene, with powers like Emmy's. In fact, there is only one alive at the moment. And that is:" "Emmy." I nodded, my eyes closing as I yet again took a deep breath counting to five before I let it out.

“You have something to tell me, Harlon?” “Nope. You’re in because you’re in. Not because of my daughter.” The cryptic message was easily understood. Dad wanted the bear shifters to join the war against the hunters, but they were hesitant. “It makes a difference.” “Why?” I asked. “Tips the scales. Whoever possesses the white wolf is fated to win.” Boomer looked at me skeptically. “You have ebony hair.” “Yes.” “The opposite of white. The color of our hair matches our fur.” I hadn’t thought about the correlation, but he was right. Even the grey wolves had similar colors in human hair.

Now I must say my life is a mess since dad flew away they treated me differently they show their true colors, this mansion is full of traitors granddad and dad are right they are only nice to me because my granddad and dad is always there to protect me. Not until I meet him, his cold and emotionless dark blue eyes, his stern, serious and cold baritone voice, and his dangerous aura that may make you fall on your feet. But I didn’t get scared on him I just smiled at him. He has a Greek god well sculpted face those dark blue eyes of him are so beautiful even though it has no emotions on it he has a well tall build figure towering me. He is No other than the EMPEROR of business world, Zhane Zach

I blinked my eyes hard, trying to see any resemblance between the Emperor and Dante. Dante looked like he was personally sculpted by the god of beauty, but his father seemed to have been trolled by the same god. The Emperor's nose was fat, round, and reddish; his salty grey beard was longer than my hair. A sparkling gold crown with a huge ruby in the centre adorned his mass of dry grey hair. Next, I studied his clothes. He was wearing a red cloak, black silk tunic and trousers, with gold armour and red leather boots.

The room spiraled into chaos as the arguing grew fiercer. "ENOUGH!" A voice rose over the noise. Instantly, there was silence as a woman in white robes approached the Empress's large bed. She was clean and pale, her skin seeming somehow translucent. But that was nothing compared to her eyes. Her irises, instead of being brown or blue, were colorless. More than that—they seemed to have a life of their own. A strange light swirled and shone between the black ring around the iris and the pupil, as if a storm were constantly brewing. It was mesmerizing. Even the Empress fell still between birth pains to take note of this strange character. "All of you, OUT," the woman in white ordered, "except y

He was part of an ancient family of a race of galactic emperors, called Lehmann Fuchs. For twenty-six generations, they had exuded that sensation of cold sweat in which they feared their power and their influence throughout the universe. When they used to acquire so much that just before the time turned, she was always praised, like now. At that hour, she was taken to her chambers, the undead and muscular king, handsome and gallant. In which that opulent and exquisite environment was beautiful and majestic, with ornaments and inscriptions, magic circles,