Red X Silver Novels & Stories

The Red Rave's car was armored, so the security decided to stay inside it and prepare to leave as soon as possible. The armor was not enough to calm Darren and Kath, who embraced each other and cried, terrified, living the materialization of the nightmare that had haunted them once. It also did not deter Timothy, who pounded the bodywork, hit the windows with the revolver, after firing two shots at the front window and discovering the protection.

I scream, but I don’t let go. Silver’s a soft metal. If these bars are pure, I might be able to bend them. But no. It’s just a silver coating over something harder. I can’t move them. With a final, furious scream, I shove away from the bars. “How’d that work out, young one?” Odin calls from the next cell over. “All Father, with all due respect, shut the fuck up. I don’t see you doing anything to get us out,” I snap, furious and nursing my scorched hands. My healing is sluggish here—still working, just not fast.

He raised his other arm up as he waved, showing the folded sleeve of his shirt and automatically, showing off his well built arms. Alex gulped as he called his name one more time. This time he was aggressively waving his arm, his tiny silver bracelet dangling as he did. On getting no response from him, Alex could see him huff and then fold his arms on his chest, colliding with the pendant of his silver necklace. God, he looked so good. His hair looked freshly washed, fragile and soft as the wind blew it, scattering strands all over his face. His blue eyes glistened as he stared, his lips twitching and pursing as he awaited a response from Alex.

Blood at her lip, hair loose, hand pressed to her ribs. But she stood up and she looked at Seraphina and her eyes.... Her eyes. For just a second....half a breath, barely long enough to be sure I'd seen it at all.....they flashed. Silver. Not gold. Not the red of an aggressive wolf. 'Silver.' A color I had seen exactly once in my life, in an old text in my father's library, next to a bloodline name I had been too young to understand. Then it was gone. Mira blinked. The color was back to normal. She looked almost as startled as everyone else.

Silver was laughing now, really laughing, her head thrown back, her hair flying. This was it. This was the version of her I wanted to see every day. I pressed the accelerator again. The car sped up. Then I saw it. The red light, it was close and fast. I hit the brakes. Nothing happened, it didn't halt. I hit them again. Harder. The pedal sank to the floor. The car kept moving. "Henry?" Silver's voice was different now. Scared. "I'm sure it's fine." "Henry, the light—"

Still full of fire. She flinched, and her whole body tensed. She breathed, trying to keep her voice steady, "Riven.... stabbed." Fin's eyes snapped to her abdomen where her hand was. The blood coming out was red... not silver. Jax looked down. His expression went slack. "Shit." In a matter of seconds, the red blood had turned black like ink. The light from the spring recoiled from it, twisting away like it knew the wound wasn't right.

“But something in you keeps pretending to be one.” “Careful,” I said. Her gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe that’s why it burned you.” I didn’t think. I crossed the space between us in two steps and grabbed her wrist — not hard, but enough to make her eyes flash. The Mark on her shoulder flared bright, searing red. A sharp, invisible pulse burst between us. Lights flickered. The power cut for half a second. Every system in the house screamed static through the walls — alarms flickering on, sensors tripping, cameras freezing.

Deep enough to make him weep. He stayed like that for a long time. At the ridge, the silence broke. Not violently. Not loudly. Just… differently. Siran stood. She didn’t speak. She didn’t raise her hands. But her presence shifted. And across the bloom’s inner ring, several spirals bloomed without light only color. Deep grey. Soft blue. Violet like old bruises healing beneath skin. Those gathered stepped back instinctively. “What is she doing?” someone whispered. “She’s calling it,” another answered.

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.

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.