All Chapters of SILVER IN THE SHADOWS: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Nights were never silent since the war.Stone carried every sound the murmur of sentries, the scrape of boots, the low groans of wind pushing against old shutters. But in the corner chamber Ryker had claimed for them, the noise faded to something softer, almost like a lullaby.They lay tangled together on the narrow cot, armor discarded in a heap that smelled of iron and ash. A single candle guttered at the bedside, throwing their shadows tall against the wall.For once, Trixie was not wrapped in the commander’s mantle. She lay with her back pressed to Ryker’s chest, his arm curled over her, hand spread warm and protective across her stomach. The gesture might have seemed possessive, but it wasn’t , he was guarding both of them with nothing more than his palm.“You’re awake” she murmured, half-drowsy.“I don’t sleep much when you’re this close” he said, his voice roughened by fatigue but threaded with affection. “Feels like wasting time I’ll never get back.”Her lips curved faintly, tho

The keep’s hall had not seen banners since before the war. Tonight, they hung again — deep crimson and silver, the colors of Trixie’s line. Torches burned steady against the stone walls, their light flickering across faces both weary and hopeful.Only a select few were gathered. Captains. Elders. Friends who had bled beside her and lived to see dawn. Lana stood near the front, her walking staff carved with fresh runes of blessing. Droco, broad-shouldered and scarred, leaned against a pillar with his arms folded, his dark eyes softening only when they flicked toward Trixie.At the far end of the hall, Trixie stepped forward. She wore no armor, only a long cloak clasped at her throat, its folds falling open as she reached the dais. Ryker walked at her side, steady, silent, his hand briefly brushing hers before dropping away.The room hushed.Trixie rested both palms against the carved oak table before her, her voice carrying clear in the hall.“You followed me through fire,” she began. “Th

Trisha’s lips pressed into a thin line. For a heartbeat it looked as if she might lash back,but instead she drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders and stepped back toward the door.“You’ve made yourself clear,” she said coldly. Her eyes flicked once, briefly, to Trixie’s rounded belly and then away. “I won’t disturb your… peace.”Trixie didn’t move. Her face was carved from stone, but inside her chest her heart thudded with the ache of old wounds reopened. She let the silence be her only reply.Trisha turned on her heel, her boots echoing down the corridor until the sound faded.Trixie stood in the torchlight, the flames painting her reflection across the chamber walls. For a moment, the memories threatened to pull her under — her father’s stern face, Trisha’s easy smile at his side, her own hunger for approval that never came. But then, faint and steady, another sound reached her.Laughter.The laughter of her pack, carrying through the stone walls. The thrum of a drum, the howl o

The sun was warm on North Creek that morning, though spring still carried a chill in its breath. Thin clouds drifted across the sky, and the river sang louder now that the ice had melted.Grass pushed through old paths, and children’s laughter carried farther than the echo of weapons ever had.In the heart of the keep, Trixie sat in the open courtyard with Ryker at her side. Her belly was round and heavy now, the child inside restless. Each movement was a reminder that time was running short. She placed her hand across the curve of her stomach and closed her eyes, breathing through the weight of it.“You’re staring again,” she said softly.Ryker chuckled. “I’m guarding.”“You’ve been guarding me since the first week.”“And I’ll keep guarding until I’m dust.” His hand found hers, fingers lacing tight. “The pup is restless today?”She nodded. “Stronger than yesterday. I think they want out already.”He smiled, though there was worry behind his eyes. Ryker was not afraid of blood, of war,

TRIXIEThere was no pain.That was the first thing I noticed. The fire in my body was gone. The weight, the tearing, the screams — gone.I opened my eyes, but the world around me was not the pack house. It was white, endless. No walls. No floor. Just light that felt soft on my skin.I stood, though I did not remember standing. My hands were steady. My body whole. My chest light.And then I heard her voice.“Little flame.”I turned, and my heart stopped.My mother was there. Her dark hair fell down her shoulders the way it did when I was a child. Her eyes were warm, the same shade as mine. She wore the same smile I thought I had forgotten.“Mother…” My voice shook. I could not believe it. I had dreamed of her so many nights, but this was no dream. She was here.She opened her arms, and I ran into them. Her embrace was strong, warm, and real. My chest broke open, and I cried into her shoulder.“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered.“I know,” she said softly, stroking my hair. “I’ve been watc