Jordan Silver Novels & Stories

"I feel like you’re trying to intimidate a witness. Let’s look at the facts, Vane. The man who took the Silver Moonstone didn't use a drill. He didn't use explosives. He ripped the vault door off its hinges like it was made of wet cardboard." She pointed to the photo in her file—a grainy still of a massive, shadowy figure with eyes that reflected the camera's infrared light like a wolf’s. "That’s not human," she said firmly. "I’ve seen state-of-the-art tech, and I’ve seen bodybuilders on every steroid known to man. Nobody does that. Who is he?" Cillian turned his back to her, walking to the window. He looked out at the city, his hands clasped behind his back. "His name is Julian Blackwood. H

He was tall—easily 6'5"—with hair so dark it swallowed the light and features so sharp they looked sculpted from granite. The air around him shimmered with suppressed power, the kind that didn't need to be displayed to be understood. ​ As I approached the table with a tray of fresh bacon, keeping my gaze locked on the tablecloth, a sudden, almost physical force slammed into me. It wasn't Kael's power, but something deeper, a jolt that went straight to my core. The bacon grease sizzled, and I nearly dropped the heavy tray. ​ I flinched, my eyes snapping up just for a second, to locate the danger. ​ And I looked right into his eyes. ​ They were a piercing, crystalline silver—the color of the m

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She looks up. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "What did you do." _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> It is not a question. She already knows something is happening. Silver reads rooms the way I read sheet music, instinctively and ahead of the beat. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "My dad is in town," I say, unwinding my scarf with one hand. "He is a sports therapist. Olympic level. He has worked with half the national teams in the country and he is going to look at your knee today."

At that exact microsecond, Jordan feels like the entire hall is spinning gleefully around his head like a wild forest carousel. He parts his teeth, about to speak a smooth word to my white shirt, but Harvey Jupiter forcefully butts his heavy chest right into the middle of our circle. "You actually know Master Franklin's name, Jordan?" "Yeah." Jordan happily meets Harvey’s annoyed gaze, his voice dropping into a quiet, whispering frequency as he leans his head closer to his brother's shoulder. "He is the true silver-eyed goddess—the exact supreme warrior that my tongue told you guys about last moon. My claws are going to pursue his heart for my nest."

The faint scent of silver drifted from them, a trick he used to test a wolf's endurance against pain. Carla's confidence flickered. She swallowed hard but tried to mask it with a smirk. "You want us to fight?" "No," Alpha Archer said, his tone as sharp as flint. "Both of you will stand there to endure." The warriors fastened the chains lightly around our wrists, not enough to wound, but enough that the silver stung faintly where it touched skin. My pulse raced as the burn bit into me, searing and cold at once. I clenched my jaw, refusing to make a sound.

I was drawn to his voice but I struggled against it. I wasn’t a killer. I didn’t crave violence and blood and death. Did I? I whipped my head towards Jake. There must have been something in my eyes, something ominous, because Jake dropped his hand and recoiled. “This is who you really are,” Silver said. “Embrace it, Johnson. Embrace your true self. Stop struggling. Give in. I promise you won’t regret it.” Silver’s voice was steady and hypnotic. I found myself nodding along.

As tears flowed through his deep blue eyes, he folded his fingers and pulled his hand down. His messy hair was shining in the moonlight. Silver was rather short for a 15-year-old boy, 4 ft. 3 inches. He also had a distinct but small scar just above his left eyebrow. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a bird symbol on the back and grey pants. A black bracelet with a single glass-like white stone encircled his left wrist. His name was Silver, just like his hair.

Jordan replied, methodically undoing the buttons of his coat and rolling up his shirt sleeves. A piece of iron was heating up to a red glow nearby. Realizing what he was about to do, Neve's face drained of color. "Wait... don't do anything crazy! I've got money, loads of it. Let me go, and I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams!" She rambled on, listing off all the enticing offers she could think of. Jordan was unfazed, his grip steady on the tweezers as he lifted a sliver of metal. "Let's start with this," he said coolly.