Silas Beyblade Novels & Stories

I expected him to pull me into his arms and tell me I was the Sovereign he knew I could be. But he didn't come. Instead, a slow, methodical clapping echoed from the darkness behind us. I spun around, the last of my violet fire flickering on my fingertips. Standing on a moss-covered log was Silas. He looked as though he had just stepped out of a boardroom meeting. His suit was pristine, his white-gold eyes reflecting the dying sparks of the relay tower. In his hand, he held a small, silver device. "A truly magnificent display of raw power, Zora," Silas said, his voice smooth as silk and twice as deadly. "Your father was wrong. You aren't just an asset. You're a goddess in the making."

But I was sure this was one of those things I wouldn’t accept that opinion. “I can do that,” Dylan answered easily, “But you need to be careful.” “I will.” We stayed like that for a while in silence. Then Dylan stood and clapped my back. “I’ll send everything to you by this evening,” he said, then he left. I stayed in the same spot after Dylan left for a little while, then I walked to the window. I stared out of it. I couldn’t forget the main goal in all this. It wasn’t to get to know Reine, it wasn’t to know why she was in debt. It was because I needed to run the company I had been playing a role in since I was nine.

“Stay behind me.” The creature that emerges is nothing like the Veil’s shadows. It’s massive, its body a patchwork of scales and sinew, eyes burning with fractured light. It snarls, a sound that splits the air into dissonant echoes, and charges. “*Run!*” Ryland roars. But Silas doesn’t run. He steps forward, shadows erupting from his small frame like a storm. Selene’s light joins them, weaving into his darkness, and together they strike. The creature recoils, howling as their combined power tears through its hide.

She didn't want to hide anymore either. "When do we start?" I asked, my voice holding a steady edge that surprised even me. Silas’s lopsided smile returned, dark and deeply satisfied. "Right now." The private training ring situated beneath the northern watchtower was shielded from the biting wind, surrounded by high stone walls and floor covered in thick, packed sand. Silas had discarded his leather vest entirely, standing in the center of the ring in nothing but his trousers and boots. The sheer expanse of his chest, mapped with silver-white scars from ancient battles, was a testament to the brutal lineage of the Lycans.

I glare at him, my brows frowned. "She most certainly does. See I pretty much know everything about our students except her. She doesn't talk about her family and nobody at The Academy seems to know anything either. Even the information given to the school after she joined was vague...” He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes trained on me, “All the school knows about the Silent Student is that she comes from a rich family that possibly has connections to the chairman and that her name is Atlas Winters. She's practically a ghost at The Academy. Did you know that her age isn’t even in our system?"

Silas, never far from her side, positioned himself as a shield against his brother's relentless assault. "Chastity, behind you!" Silas's voice, a mix of urgency and concern, echoed in her mind through their mate bond. Reacting swiftly, she shifted, narrowly avoiding a strike aimed at her flank. Silas intercepted the blow, and the clash of vampire and Lycan power sent shockwaves through the battleground. Dylan, unyielding in his pursuit, taunted Silas between attacks. "Is this the life you've chosen, Silas? Playing guardian to a Lycan? The council was right to denounce you. You have become flimsy and sentimental.

"If so much as a fly enters that room without my mark, I will have your heads on the Citadel spikes." "Yes, Your Majesty," they barked in unison. Silas strode down the obsidian hallway, his mind a storm of fire and gold. He needed to bleed. He needed the Dragon-Madness to have an outlet before it consumed him. He made his way toward the Training Pits, the scent of sweat and iron calling to his beast. But he didn't make it to the pits. A shadow detached itself from the pillar near the library. It wasn't Lyra, and it wasn't a guard. It was Commander Kaelen, his face grimmer than usual.

This was not part of the plan. Silas's smug smile widened as he pulled out the hidden sacred blade and started walking toward Cole, causing a sense of panic to wash over me. Jesse instantly pulled me up to my feet, and as Silas pulled his blade back to attack, a thick puff of gray smog burst out of my body. My body almost collapsed to the ground from the sheer force of it, but when I calmed down and looked up, I saw Jesse already standing between Cole and Silas, using his strength to block Silas's wrist.

Lyra held a matching dagger, her face illuminated by the pulsating violet glow of the ritual circle. "Drop the blades!" I screamed. My voice was shredded by the wind, but the power behind it made the violet mist recoil. Beside me, Sage scrambled into a defensive position, her hands hovering over her utility belt, while I felt the heavy presence of the rest of the team fan out behind us. Silas didn't flinch. He didn't even look up at first. He merely tilted the blade, the tip grazing the hollow of Dante’s throat. A single bead of dark blood welled up, and I felt a sharp, stinging sympathetic pain in my own neck.