Elsie Silver Chestnut Springs Series Novels & Stories

“Gods, can you imagine him walking into Silverhide? The girls would murder each other just to get him to look in their direction. I’d beg my dad to let a guy like him pay my bride price.” I run my hand down my face, peeking at my empty plate through my fingers. “Silas is also just downright beautiful,” Chessie continues with dreamy, girlish goo-goo eyes that might actually make me go insane if she doesn’t stop. “Every day after training, he takes me for a walk around his grounds. He grows roses, Lexa, and when I mentioned how pretty they were, I found a vase of them in my bedroom when I went to bed that night–”

she said. “I don’t care. If there’s even a small chance this flower can help me then I need to find it.” Miss Elsie studied me for a long moment before finally walking to the back shelf. She returned with a thin, worn map. The edges were frayed, and the ink had faded in places. She pointed to a small, unmarked valley at the edge of the map, where the mountains curled around each other like protective arms. “Silver Hollow,” she said quietly. “But it’s not safe. The mist there is… strange. People say it whispers to you, tries to turn you back. And if your heart isn’t pure…” She trailed off, not finishing the thought.

She turned to me with a serious face. “What happened? One minute you’re here, the next minute you disappear. No message, no call. Nothing.” I took a deep breath. “I went to Silvercrest. There was no network there. They live like it’s the 1500s. No phones, no internet. Just wolves and weird rituals. They wanted us to bond.” Elsie looked at me like I just told her I went to Mars. “I was so worried. I thought something had happened to you.”

“So does fear.” Her smile goes brittle. “We’ll see,” she says, then melts into the trees. Her presence lingers for a moment, then slips away. Caleb lets out a slow breath. “She’s moving faster,” he says. “Whatever she’s planning, she’s not waiting.” I nod, feeling the silver inside me wake up, aware and ready. “Then I’m not waiting either.” Above us, the moon climbs higher, sharp and bright, almost like it’s watching. The crown isn’t just settling now.

~ Elvira ~ If you ever want to know what a hurricane feels like before it hits, you should visit the Silverblade kitchen on the morning of a Selection. By five in the morning, the air was already thick with the smell of roasting boar, rosemary, and honey-glazed hams. My feet were throbbing before the sun even cleared the trees. Every surface was covered in silver and golden plates, glasses, and enough baked bread to feed a city. "Move it, Elvira! Those spiced apples won't garnish themselves!" Silas barked, looking just as exhausted as I was, his apron was covered in flour, and he was juggling three different timers at once.

“Tell me you smell it too.” Eamon pulled his horse up short at the treeline, the animal’s breath pluming in pale streams that curled and vanished. The forest before them glowed faintly as if moonlight had sunk into the bark and decided to live there. Sienna slid from her saddle without answering. She didn’t need her captain’s nose to confirm what the air had already told her: silver had fallen here, and the ground was still remembering how to hold it.

The ridges open. The world exhales. Water spreads out to our left—dark, restless, alive. The safe house emerges ahead, half-sunk into stone and scrub pine, its outline deliberately forgettable. No lights. No markings. No witnesses. Elowen eases the vehicle forward, gravel crunching softly beneath the tires. I watch the tree line one last time. The water. The sky. And then I look at her. Alive. Awake. Unbroken. Still dangerous. Still wanted.

It wasn’t there. A woman stood in the doorway, watching me with eyes that seemed to shift color in the light: green, then gold, then somewhere in between. She was beautiful in an ethereal way, with long dark hair shot through with silver streaks despite looking no older than twenty five. She wore simple clothes (a dark green dress and boots) but carried herself with quiet confidence. “Who are you?” I demanded, my voice hoarse. “Where am I?” “My name is Elena Nightshade,” she said calmly, moving into the room with fluid grace. “And you’re in my home. You collapsed at the edge of my property three days ago.”

Bring her back to me. The spell culminated in its crescendo when the forest held its breath. Silver light cloaked Krishna and pulsed, taking on a faint green glow that flickered from deep within her chest. Her body arched, curving her back like a lightning jolt. Then she screamed.

Eyes turning gold and scales rising over his chest around the wounds. Servants arrived in her chamber. Finding her kneeling on the fur before the fire. Howling hysterically and clawing her eyelids. But despite her crazed ranting, there was only her. *** WaterRose, Meadowbrook, Grier Country Elsabet walked the corridor. Pausing when she saw a hooded figure coming down the long hall past the stairs, where the back entrances were. Moving uncomfortably and dragging a shoulder and head along the wall making a horrible grating sound.