White Nights Novels & Stories

Mira’s P.O.V. The white feather lay between us like a silent ultimatum. It didn’t scream the way the black one did. It didn’t have to. Black was death. White was worse. Because white meant choice. And choices… could rot you from the inside out.

One document led to another, and then another, until we found references I'd either overlooked or dismissed the first time. And our findings revealed something I would have never expected. The White Wolves possessed a strange power to enter a deep sleep that resembled death, a state they could remain in for decades and even centuries. “That's new,” Theo said, looking at me. I dragged a hand slowly through my hair as the full weight of what we'd just uncovered finally settled over me. “Fuck.” For several long moments, I couldn't bring myself to move. My mind was already racing, trying to make sense of a discovery that had just turned everything upside down.

Lara recalled the cluster of security men converging on the helipad, blurred glimpses of an incredibly large white villa, and heat that only increased the nonstop pounding behind her temples. Jet lag had finally caught up with her. A rueful grimace slanted her face as she gingerly slid out of bed to gratefully appreciate that the ground beneath her feet was no longer rocking. It was dark outside. Locating the bedside light, Lara glanced at her watch. “8 pm… Are you kidding me?” The housekeeper, at least Lara assumed the warm, matronly woman who had come to her assistance was the housekeeper, had been a merciful savior. She had taken charge, banishing Christophe and helping Lara to bed.

The white haze was fur. One soldier’s helm had rolled off him. He’d probably undone his chin strap and been lazy as he rode in the night. It cost him dearly as a falling white furred paw sent him to see if there were any gods out there or not. The helm of the other soldier didn’t help him, though, as the beast used both hands to slap either side of his head and render the Legion short one more man. Once the clubbing blows of the ivory beast pulped each soldier’s head, the fright on two legs turned to look in August’s direction. August came to understand why he couldn’t act. When the blue eyes of the creature focused on him, pupils growing smaller, August tore his look from that scene back to

Two white wolves look out at their family–the family they built–as their children and grandchildren open their eyes again, taking a breath, then another, then… another. And as morning dawns, and the stars fade completely, a great white light is the last thing I see before I submit to the darkness thrumming through my body. Two white wolves say goodbye, and join their ranks among the last of the fading stars. Cole squeezes my hand.

The dead wolves, mutilated and killed His dead mother's body, found close to the forest The white wolf, found unconscious close to the border Her crescent tattoo. What if all of these random events were somehow connected?

Lacey's POV: I have been at the beautiful pond for about an hour. While I am laying down by the pond enjoying the peace and quiet, all of a sudden my senses are alerted when I hear a twig snap in the woods around me. I look around but see nothing but something is telling me someone is watching me, I decide its better for me to head back to the pack house. it's rare to see a white wolf and I don't need any extra attention, it's bad enough I am the pack slave, everyone thinks I'm an omega low level wolf, everyone thinks I am trash, but nobody knows I'm of the Alpha blood line. my birthday is in a week, and I plan on leaving when I turn 18, and nobody can stop me.

The sky did not close. Even after Morrow disappeared into the clouds, the crack in the sky stayed there glowing, shaking, spreading like broken glass. Maria and Elias stood outside the ruined Archive, dust and wind swirling around them. “It’s not a storm,” Elias said quietly. Maria shook her head. “It’s her.” Far above them, light flashed again. Not red like Helios. Not dark like Nyx. White. Blinding white. Then everything went quiet. Too quiet.

By the time I got back to the packhouse, it was already after dark and I went into the living room where Lucas, Jude and Aria were watching the News. I wasn’t wrong about the riots. Cities all over the country were going up in flames. They were actually filming humans being attacked and killed by vampires. I was watching Lucas as he was fixated on the TV and I could see how intensely he was watching the TV. But it was now sunrise, and the vampires were running from the scenes of these riots. Running back to their hideouts so they didn’t burn in the sun. That was the only reprieve that we were going to have at the moment.

What's a little fun that I can't have? “I'm specifically looking…” he paused as he opened a page in a book and then turned it to me. "For the White Wolf.” The page had a picture of a white wolf in it sitting under a huge moon. This was supposed to be alarming to me, but I wasn't bothered. This might prove Axton's theory of humans wanting more after finding little. Maybe they were the ones that carried the bodies of those lycans, and now they're back for more. But somehow I disagreed with that thought. What if this guy has read some books and done a little research, and now he wants to discover one for himself? That also makes sense.