All Chapters of Silver Oath : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The cavern walls narrowed as Kaelen and Elira slipped back into the forest. Dawn had not yet broken, but the sky was pale with the promise of it. The world felt suspended—too quiet, too still.Kaelen’s body throbbed with exhaustion, yet his veins still burned faintly with embers. Each breath reminded him of the vision: flames devouring the world, his own reflection staring back.Elira moved ahead, silent as a shadow, her dagger ready. She didn’t look back, but her words reached him all the same.“They’ll be hunting us still. Vampires never abandon a trail.”“And Faelar?” Kaelen asked.Her shoulders tightened. “Faelar is bound by oath to Serenya. If she lives, he’ll fight on. But his hatred for you…” She exhaled slowly. “That is older than this war.”Kaelen fell silent, knowing she spoke truth. Faelar’s arrow haunted him almost as much as his vision.They pressed deeper into the woods, where the trees grew tall and twisted, their bark scarred with claw marks. The air shifted—heavy, pun

The clearing erupted with movement as Lyra barked orders to her pack. Wolves shifted, bodies stretching and tearing into hulking forms of muscle and fur. The air filled with the crack of bones reshaping, the scent of musk and blood, the tremble of earth beneath clawed paws.Kaelen’s heart raced. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but he held fast beside Elira. Her dagger gleamed in her hand, her eyes sharp with purpose. She looked like the calm at the heart of a storm, though he could see the strain in the tight set of her jaw.“They’ll strike before the moon rises higher,” she whispered. “They always hunt in shadow.”Kaelen swallowed hard, his hands trembling as the fire stirred within him. He thought of Lyra’s words—curse wrapped in flesh—and of the vision of himself burning the world to ash. If he unleashed the fire now, would he be saving them… or proving her right?A sound cut through the night. Not the howl of wolves, but a hiss. Long, drawn-out, hungry. The trees seemed to

Sleep came for Kaelen like a thief, dragging him under despite the turmoil in his chest. The fire in his veins had quieted after the battle, but his mind was far from peace. Exhaustion claimed him where he lay on the outskirts of the Crescent Fang’s camp, Elira keeping her silent watch nearby.But sleep did not grant rest.The dream returned.He stood again in a place that wasn’t real—a vast hall of stone and fire, its ceiling lost to shadow. Braziers burned without fuel, their flames white instead of gold. The air vibrated with power so ancient it felt older than the world itself.And then, he saw them.Figures cloaked in silver light, their faces indistinct, their eyes burning with knowledge and sorrow. Voices overlapped, weaving into a chant that was both prayer and curse. He couldn’t make out the words at first, only fragments, whispers slipping into his bones.“Blood of fire… born of betrayal…”“The Sundering… a wound unhealed…”Kaelen staggered forward, desperate to understand.

The night after the trial carried an uneasy calm. The Crescent Fang moved with quieter steps, their earlier growls softened into murmurs. Though some still glared at Kaelen as if his very presence threatened them, others nodded in grim acknowledgment. He had proven himself, at least for now.But peace was short-lived.Scouts returned at dusk, their fur bristling, blood streaking their coats. “They come,” one rasped, collapsing before the firelight. “Not raiding parties this time. A host. An army.”The clearing filled with snarls and alarmed voices. Wolves bristled, snapping at each other in fear. Elira’s expression turned grave, her hand tightening on her dagger. Lyra only smiled, a predator’s grin in the face of danger.“They grow desperate,” she said, her voice carrying above the noise. “Good. Let them. Tonight, we show the leeches that Crescent Fang does not break.”Kaelen stood among them, the fire inside him stirring like it sensed what was coming. He had proven control in a tria

The air was heavy with storm.Clouds hung low, black and swollen, as if the heavens themselves waited for blood to fall. The Crescent Fang gathered on the ridgeline, their eyes glinting with unease. News had spread: the vampires were moving again, not in scattered raiding packs, but in one great host—tens of thousands, pushing toward the valley where wolf and elf alike made their refuge.At the heart of the gathering stood Kaelen, his fire smoldering low, a constant ache under his skin. Elira was beside him, her presence steady, a tether to humanity he clung to. Lyra lingered nearby too, her smile too sharp, her eyes alight with a fever Kaelen did not trust.It was Faelar who stepped forward first, pale and cold as the moon. His wounds had healed, though his pride had not. “This is what comes of hesitation,” he said, his voice a hiss. “You play at control, at mercy. And now the leeches march unopposed, emboldened by your weakness.”Elira bristled. “He saved a child, Faelar. That is no