Silas Scratch Novels & Stories

Without thinking, I asked, “Where did you get that?” He looked down, following my gaze. His fingers brushed the scar. “Training accident. A long time ago.” He paused. “Before… everything.” Before me. Before the bond. Before his world tilted off its axis. The moment felt too intimate. Too quiet. I stood up, the chair scraping on the floor. The sound was loud in the silent room. “You’re better,” I stated, my voice returning to its cool, professional tone. The mediator. The stranger. “The susceptible period has passed?”

Jax scratched his chin. "So... we're becoming completely different people." Lucius nodded. "For one night." Silas reached for a fresh sheet of parchment. "Then let's decide who we are.”

The Bertram 46 looked like a glowing charcoal briquette sliding through a sea of black oil, its twin exhaust ports venting twin plumes of bright white heat into the gray rain. Silas watched the charcoal briquette move. He was forty-two years old, but his skin possessed the pale, translucent quality of a cave-dwelling organism—the result of a life spent entirely behind tinted, low-emissivity glass and beneath the artificial suns of surgical-grade lighting arrays. His hair was cropped so close to his skull that the pale contours of his bone structure were visible, revealing a long, jagged surgical scar that ran from behind his left ear down to the midpoint of his jawline. The scar was not from

I did the same to Erick and Jace before turning on the robots with the little remote in my hand The chrockroaches began crawling all over their bodies while they woke with a start, they started screaming trying to get the fake bugs of their bodies while I rolled in laughter "Whitney I know you're behind this just wait till I get you" Erick yelled from his room They rushed out of their rooms to see me laughing in the hallway "you better get this things off me" Stacey yelled I quickly turned roaches off and took them off my siblings, only for me to be tripped and sat on by my siblings "how does payback feel?" Stacey asked "Urgh 😡you woke me from my sleep" Erick growled while I squirmed tryi

I screamed. He was taken aback upon seeing me with no control. Mad. F*cking mad. Out of my sanity. I stepped forward as he stepped back. “You... you f*cking, Silva. You f*cking call me a f*cking bitch! I am no slut, nor a wh*re! I am just a bad f*cking bitch who beats men *sses and not f*cking and sucking and riding their f*cking d*cks!” I shout and threw the glass of wine towards him. The glass shattered as his blood drops. The broken glass cut his arms.

she sounded as if she had lost her memory before. “That was Kevin, my wolf,” Silas said, introducing Kevin to his mate. “So tell me something,” Silas was so excited that he just wanted all the answers to his questions. However, Tabitha couldn't stop noticing his groin. “Silas, wrong timing, I know but, it's weird, I'm aware. Can I touch your D?” She asked after gathering the courage to do so. Silas looked down at himself and smirked. “Of course, my little wolf,” he agreed and took her hand to bring it close to his groin.

"So, let's assume we manage to get this branch successfully. You know that Vampires can't touch it, right? A single cut or scratch from it could be dangerous. This means you will have to get it yourself, then track down the elders one by one and stab them to death, so everything goes back to normal. Is that how you plan to do it, Kerry?" "Stop mocking me, Silas. I know it's not going to be easy, but at least it's still a chance. If I don't take it, then I am probably going to regret it my whole life." Silas looked like he was going to say something rude, but he decided against it. Despite the apology, it still felt like we were both waking up on shattered glass. Our relationship would never

She had traded their only map, their only weapon, and their only chance of extraction for a few seconds of survival. Silas stood up, his legs wobbling, he walked to the crest of the nearest dune and stared out into the endless, undulating sea of sand. He didn't look like an executioner anymore; he looked like a man who had been hollowed out and put back together wrong. He reached up to touch the brand on his arm, his fingers tracing the outline of the serpent, and then he froze. He turned back to her, his face a mask of cold, unreadable stone.

Rafferty stepped back. Silas reached for the papers. He grabbed the stack with his bare hand, flipping through the pages to check the signatures. "You missed a page," Silas muttered. He pressed his thumb onto the bottom of the third sheet, rubbing the paper to separate it from the fourth. "Page twelve. Paragraph four." "I didn't miss anything." Silas stopped. He looked at his thumb. A faint, yellowish stain was spreading across the skin. He rubbed it against his index finger. "What is this?" Silas asked. His voice sounded thick. "The paper... it feels... greasy."

There was already a scab forming and I could vaguely see a silver outline. Without thinking, I brought my hand up and gingerly grazed the mark with the pads of my fingers. Silas stirred, a groan leaving the back of his throat. I bit back a laugh when his thoughts flooded my head. It was too early and he was too groggy for him to put up that mental block he always did. His thoughts ranged from wanting a repeat of what happened last night — sensual images floating in my head provoking me to give in — to thoughts of wanting me to heal and not hurt me which had me swooning.