Novel & Cerita Dark Super Silver The Hedgehog

"I'm Tahr, of the royal silver dynasty." He squeezed a little too hard, but I managed to hold back a grimace. I looked to the other two boys and they were grinning too. Sarn assisted me up and we all shook hands. Laryn spoke after introductions were concluded. "So what's this bowing shit you keep speaking of? We're all dragons; we bow to no one." I realized he had no idea who I was. "The royal silver dragons are the mightiest dragons in all the realms."

It was unusually heavy. As I examined the ammunition, a chill ran down my spine. The bullets were encased in silver, with a hard lead core, custom-made to inflict maximum damage on creatures like me. Silver, the one thing that could weaken us, render us vulnerable. It was like a poison, a toxic metal that could seep into our veins and strip us of our strength, and it could lead to death if it struck out vitals.

He breathes next to my ear. I can smell the hot metal from here. The next minute I feel it searing pain on my skin by my lower back. I wail from the pain and my breath is gone. I see white. He then throws silver powder on my wound to prevent it from closing and healing. I scream louder it burns like hell, he just laughs at me. If it ever heals there will be a scar. I throw up from the pain and my tears are flowing down my face.

Why were they staring at me like that? One of the younger rogues stepped closer toward the bars weakly. His lips parted slightly. “…silver,” he whispered. The others went still. Liya suddenly awakened fully inside me. She was alert, and Focused. The rogue’s breathing quickened. Then abruptly, he dropped to his knees. The sound echoed harshly through the dungeon floor. Every guard tensed instantly. My breath caught. The rogue lowered his head deeply. “Silver Wolf,” he rasped hoarsely.

At that same moment— Miles away—Silverfang Pack remained completely unaware of the storm racing toward them. Inside the massive Silverfang estate, Alpha Carlo sat comfortably within his private hall surrounded by alcohol, advisers and guards. Laughter echoed lightly inside. Unlike BloodFall and Crestmoon—Silverfang was calm tonight. Carlo raised his goblet lazily. “To Ashbourne Academy.” Several advisers smirked knowingly. One of them chuckled. “If the ritual succeeded tonight and Darkson comes back, then Silverfang will finally have its terrifying heir.”

Thanks to shifter agility, I duck just in time. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “You, Jarek. You are my problem. Get the fuck out!” Silver screams and chunks a jewelry box at me. I duck again and the box collides with the wall behind me and jewelry flies everywhere. ‘Crazy bitch is trying to kill us.’ Silver glares at me and searches for something else to throw. While she’s distracted, I run up and catch her in a tight bear hug. ‘Don’t hurt her, Jarek.’

It was not glowing anymore, but the hilt of the dagger now changed from gold to a smoky silver color the same as my power. What just happened here?!

And if Gideon had created it, then the silver was the key. “Focus on the silver!” I called out, my voice cutting through the chaos. Zane didn’t hesitate, darting forward to test my theory. He grabbed a knife from his belt, the blade glinting faintly in the moonlight, and drove it into one of the pulsing veins on the creature’s arm. The effect was immediate. The creature let out a bone-chilling scream, its body convulsing as the silver seemed to ripple beneath its skin. It staggered, the glow in its eyes dimming for a moment before flaring back to life.

The rogue screamed as he lost control of his bike, crashing into the underbrush. Three down. Three to go! “Damn mutts!” one of the rogues spat, his voice venomous. He reached into his jacket, pulling something from it and I was instantly alarmed when I notice a glint of silver in it. Another silver gun?! “Hudson!” I screamed, alarmed. “Say goodbye, little girl,” he snarled, reaching for something at his side. A knife. A silver knife. “No!” I shouted, instinctively leaning back. Hudson didn’t hesitate. He jerked the bike sharply to the side, slamming into the rogue’s bike with enough force to send him careening off balance.

My wolf, growled low, his instincts rising to challenge the dominance pressing over us. Then the great black convoy broke through the mist. Horses cloaked in dark armor. Wolves, massive ones, flanked the carriages on either side. And at the center of it all, King Zed rode atop his obsidian wolf, his silver crown gleaming against his dark hair. His eyes, sharp, almost metallic green, swept over the gathered Alphas.