Pure Silver Spoon Novels & Stories

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.

Next, I added the wine glasses, their slender stems and delicate rims sparkling in the fading light. I sparkled with excitement as I arranged the silverware, the gentle clinking of the forks, knives, and spoons a soothing serenade to her senses. After taking a moment to admire the table's progress, the soft sheen of the silverware and the gentle gleam of the glasses a testament to her love of entertaining.

A carved wolf's head with a flute crosswise in its jaws. Eric sniffed the air. "Wolfsbane oil on the door handles." Malcolm's hand went to his concealed dagger. "He's expecting trouble." Before I could knock, the door creaked open. A wizened man with milky eyes stood framed in the gloom, his gnarled fingers curled around a blade made of... Silver. Real silver, not the alloy we used for weapons. Pure enough to kill with a scratch. "Jonas," Seraphina breathed.

Or what's left of it. The spoon is now bent in half like a soft clay. But it's not clay. It' a thick and strong silver. But Alpha Marius bent it without noticing. "Alpha Marius..." I quietly said. He lifts his eyes to mine. His jaw is tight and his emerald eyes are glowing with anger. But not at me or to himself. He is angry on what I just told him. "Alpha Marius..." I whispered again but slower this time. He doesn't say anything. Not right away. The spoon falls to the plate when he lets go of it. For a while, we just looked at one another.

Back in my bedroom, I locked the door. I opened a drawer and took out a small, ornate silver knife—a cruel irony, as Kael had given it to me three years ago as a "talisman" to "ward off dark spirits." The irony was suffocating. I went to my vanity and began removing every token Kael had ever given me. The wedding ring. Slice. The mate necklace. Slice. The Moon Goddess blessing bracelet. Slice. With each cut, a faint silver light emanated from the items as the pack magic of the mate bond dissipated.

He grabbed a shard of glass, ready to fight if he had to. “I am right here, Baker,” said a quiet voice. The Auditor stood at the shelf’s edge. He looked untouched by the fall—his black suit still crisp, not a wrinkle on him. In one hand, he held a tiny silver spoon. He scooped a taste from a jar swirling with green fog. “It’s a bit sour,” he said, tasting it. “Needs more heat. Maybe your planet will give me just the right flavor.” June took a step forward. Every move felt like wading through syrup. Her silver hand glowed dangerously red.

"Bon appétit, Clement." Phineas leaned back, his black diamond crown catching the flickering candlelight of the dining hall. Clement stared at the silver platter. His hands shook. Dirt was still caked under his fingernails from the slums, a sharp contrast to the embroidered white tablecloth. On the plate sat a small, heap of blue-tinted microchips, shimmering like cold glass.

The gentle, rhythmic clinking of a silver spoon against fine bone china was the only sound that dared to disturb the oppressive quiet of the formal dining room. Evelyn Vane sat perfectly poised at the head of the long mahogany table, her eyes half-closed as she savored a delicate sip of her hot Earl Grey tea. The morning sun, now fully risen, poured through the towering arched windows, illuminating the silver-plated serving domes, the baskets of warm, flaky croissants, and the pale, terrified faces of the family gathered around her.

A Shudder ran down my spine. She stood in front of a door and gestured for me to enter. The room was cozy with a four poster bed as the focal point. She made her way across the room and opened another door. It led into a bright bathroom where everything shined. There was an enormous tub big enough for eight people. A crystal chandelier was clearly the inspiration for the room. A huge stained glass window depicted a man beckoning a girl with a rose.

"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.