Pure Silver Spoon Novels & Stories

"Don't move. Just open your mouth and swallow it." Ethan held the spoon out. A single, milky-white pearl sat in the center of the silver, dripping with honey. It didn't look like a gift. It looked like a marble. Noah sat back in the velvet chair, his hands gripping the edge of the mahogany table. The breakfast spread was massive—steaming bread, roasted meats, fruit sliced into perfect fans—but the air in the room felt thin. Cold. The morning sun hit the iron bars of the gallery cage, casting long, striped shadows across the white linen tablecloth.

I protested, "You're just skeptical of everything. You don't believe in romance, true love, horoscopes, personality tests, and all that because you refuse to believe in the good things in life." "Because there are none. At least, not permanent." "There's nothing permanent." I smacked his head playfully and continued, "Not everyone or everything will stay but isn't the memory of them that stayed back then is what's important?" Damon was dumbfounded for a while then he cleared his throat, changing the topic as he noticed the spoon I used, he asked, "What's with that spoon? Is it that special?" "Yeah, of course, I took it from Dylan's apartment. It's my beloved treasure." I boasted as I wiped t

Ferris smirked, watching from the rocking chair as Kael grabbed at his shirt. I picked Kael up to feed him. He fussed immediately. He started whimpering and swatting at the silver spoon. I tried to coax it to his lips, but the moment he grew irritated, the spoon’s stem turned molten and slumped in my hand. I dropped it with a yelp. “By the moon!” “That’s the fourth spoon he’s melted this week,” I said, eyes wide. “He needs his own kind of silver,” Ferris said, rising to his feet. “Or maybe… no silver at all.”

It was okay but I at least expected more. I picked up the serving spoon from the tray and was going to dish out the rice into Sapphire's bowl at first but this Duckling beat me to it, serving herself with her spoon. Each spoon of rice she took kept spilling some seeds of rice on the dinning table because the eating spoon was using to serve herself was too small to be used as a serving spoon but as stubborn as Sapphire was, she didn't stop when she saw the rice littering the dinning, she continued taking more spoons till she was okay with the portion on her plate.

Then walk towards the refrigerator, taking out a bottle of water. She turned to face Silver, who hasn't even spared her a single glance since she entered the kitchen, her fingers still curled around the spoon. “Did you really drive that far for just a cake?” Selena suddenly asked. Silver froze, her hand hung mid-air. And the spoon fell off from her hand, making a loud click against the marble floor. What’s going on?

“Are you joining me?” I glanced at the cutlery and took note of the silver I could smell in the air. I did not flinch, though the air felt warmer as I approached the table. My instincts were screaming a warning. This wasn’t the first time that I had encountered humans and their penchant for silver-colored cutlery, but it was the first time that a human had actual silver. These were not silver-plated or stainless steel but true silver. Why would a cop, living in such a modest house, have a need for true silver cutlery?

Just settled into himself, like he’d decided the exact amount of space he would occupy, and that was final. His eyes were silver. They moved across the room in a sweep that didn’t look like a sweep. They didn’t stop on me. I turned back to the front. The High Elder called the ceremony to order. The lights dropped except for the column of moonlight through the open ceiling—Blood Moon light, redder than ordinary and thick in a way that made the air feel different. Heavier. Like it was waiting. It moved slowly at first. I watched it find a pair across the room, a Delta male and a north-pack female, both going rigid before the gold thread pulled taut between them. The crowd made a soft sound. Th

The bowl, crafted from a polished silver metal, seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if it were imbued with a power of its own. Hannah's eyes gleamed with a deep understanding as she approached the table, her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air. The silence was palpable, punctuated only by the soft crackling of the candles. Her expression turned grave, her sharp eyes clouded with a mix of shock and concern. She paused, collecting her thoughts as she processed Sheila's revelation. “Kimberly Silversmith,” She repeated the ever familiar name in her mind as she lowered her head. And “what a small world,” she thought inwardly, letting out a small smile. If she was who she thought she

I twisted it slowly, listening to the solid clack of the tumblers falling into place. The lid was still heavy. I lifted it just enough to slip my head under the edge and peek inside. It was not filled with bottles or herbs. It was mostly empty, lined with dark velvet. In the center, sitting on the cushion, was a single, terrible thing. It wasn't a bottle of medication. It wasn't an anti-toxin powder. It was a metal object, small and deeply carved, nestled in a fold of silk. It pulsed faintly, even in the dim light. It was silver. Pure, shining, hateful silver. And it wasn't a relic he was wearing. It was a thing he kept close.

Being the show-off gentleman, her new husband pulled a chair next to him, and she sat on it, refusing to make another spectacle in front of the entire family. Every single thing on the dining table is silverware. The dinner plate is a giant silver plate with a napkin placed on top of the plate. Two types of forks were placed on the left side of the plate. Two types of knives and two kinds of spoons were placed on the right side of the plate. A big drinking glass is placed at the top right corner of her dinner plate. Anita was scared even to touch the glass, let alone drink from it. The entire silverware must cost more than her annual salary, if not more.