Harry Potter Silver Trio Novels & Stories

"And now an extraordinary silver werewolf." His smile turned sly. "Why don’t you three team up... and retrieve the gemstone?"

I sniff. “Hmm,” I sigh. My focus returns to my phone which is stationed right in front of me. Aaron and his brothers are all kneeling on the floor, making some kind of incantation with the blood in their midst. They encircle it, holding hands with each other, then there are golden cups, four of them in their midst. A sudden question arises in my mind. “Why aren't they using the common silver one?” This is the model most elites use, hold seems quite royal and kind of a ceremonial item.

Until the corridor wrapped its arms around her like the mother who no longer could. She was eighteen when Trisha was named heir. They stood side by side on the dais, both cloaked in silver, though Trisha’s gleamed with golden thread and a sapphire brooch fastened above her heart. Trixie wore no sigil. Just fabric. Just form. Just a shadow beside a star. “Don’t be upset,” Trisha whispered behind her smile. “This was always going to be my path. You’re not... equipped for it.” Trixie kept her eyes forward.

Chapter 87. Lily had an expressionless look on her face as she walked over to the table where Mr. Silver was waiting for her. He was clad in a gray tuxedo and the pair of sunglasses he had on only managed to make him look so much hotter. Lily wondered why she had thought of going after Greg when there were even better men like Damien Silver out there. If someone like Ava could bag a man like him, she was worth his attention. Well, this was the best option for her to get him into her bed. She believed that the only reason he would want to see her right now would be to negotiate with her to drop the case against Ava.

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.”

Its form flickered young girl, elder matriarch, weaver of binding, shadow of a forgotten god. “You must let them hear again.” And then Siran woke. The spiral was still glowing beside her. But now, it hummed with new rhythm. And faintly, in the thread... she could hear others responding. Thanks for your patience. Here’s Chapter 23 of Silver Pact (approx. 2,500 words), continuing directly from the awakening of Liraeth’s legacy and the unfolding shift in the magical world:

She said holding Arthur’s gaze. He just stared at her without saying anything. She rolled her eyes and continued. “I am fine with Ronan.” Matt looked over to Arthur as he tensed up but remained quiet. Silver shifted, her voice finally breaking through the thick air. “We cannot just fight him like he’s another wolf, he has witch power, dark maigc. He’ll use anyone, anything, to get what he wants. If we’re not careful, more people will get hurt because of me.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, as she looked between Arthur and Matt.

The warmth of the flames seemed to beckon the past forth, and I began. "You see, Silver's history is a tapestry woven with tragedy and perseverance, a tale that echoes through the ages of our kind." I narrated the tale even as I looked for clues that could help me find Lilac, my mate. "Long ago, Silver's family belonged to a pack steeped in tradition, where the howls of the wolves harmonized with the whispers of the trees. They were devout worshippers of the Moon Goddess, their lives entwined with the celestial dance of night and sky. And at the heart of it all was Silver, half wolf, half witch. Born from an Alpha father and a witch mother; a beacon of devotion and purity, entrusted as the p

She’s still wearing the black t-shirt and jeans from this morning, but makeup plasters her face. Trex grunts and starts striding back and forth in my head. ‘I hate that shit. She doesn’t need it,’ Trex snarls and begins clawing at me to take over. ‘What the fuck’s going on with her eyes?’ He growls, and it’s then that I notice Silver’s orbs are a brilliant shade of Sapphire blue and aren’t changing hues.

I had to struggle to suppress a laugh. The Silver Myst was an urban legend, a pure silver wolf who showed up when things looked at their worst. He first appeared near four years ago, shortly after the war began, and has, supposedly, been seen numerous times since. It was always out of the corner of someone’s eye, or seen by a friend of a friend. Chris and the others were too old to believe in fairy tales.