Silhouette Knights Novels & Stories

And then, silence. A scream shattered the dusk. Not Ridge. Not Luna. Something inhuman. They came from the trees—figures cloaked in rot and shadows, twisted armor etched with claws and blood-writ glyphs. Hollow pack. Their stench struck first—metal turned sour, flesh long spoiled. Trisha moved before command was called. Her axe unslung in one motion, she veered left into the shadows where screams grew sharper. Serin roared, “West line! Fall to the crest!” even as Ridge archers loosed arrows overhead.

"You? You get a gold bar for burying a coffin. If your brother could do the job, wouldn't it be better? "You've laid to rest so many young souls, maybe it's your turn now." Mom's face twisted into something monstrous, her arms and legs jerking towards me like a puppet on strings. I sobbed and stumbled backward, "Mom, it's me, Silvia, what are you doing?" "The Haunts world is here. No one's going to make it out alive. I know how your blood calms the wind. Maybe if we drain it dry, they might spare us."

A long, low, haunting note that made the very air feel heavy. I looked up. Standing on the highest crag, silhouetted against the massive moon, was a rider. He was dressed in silver armor, his horse as white as snow. He held a long, curved blade that caught the moonlight. "The High Seat," Rowan whispered, his voice trembling. "That’s the First Knight. They didn't just send Silas. They sent the executioners." The rider raised his blade, pointing it directly at us. "Run," Killian growled.

"But a cloak is not a suit of armor. Can it withstand a blade? Can it hold its shape in a gale?" Silas, who had been standing on the battlements, didn't descend. He simply whistled, a sharp, piercing sound that cut through the courtyard. Kaelen, the wolf who had been the most rebellious of the "problem children," stepped forward. He wasn't wearing his usual scruffy tunic; he was wearing the very cloak Thorne had just insulted. "Draw your blade," Silas commanded, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Thorne blinked. "What?"

I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "The Shadowed Knights. They said they were stirring in the darkness." Lysander, who had been unusually quiet since arriving, suddenly straightened in his chair. "Did you say Shadowed Knights?" "You've heard of them?" Kael asked sharply. "Only in the oldest texts. Legends, really. Stories about a coalition of supernatural outcasts who rejected the traditional hierarchies." His usual dramatic flair was completely absent as he spoke. "They were supposedly wiped out centuries ago during the Great Purge."

he also nodded. "So who ever get succeeded to pin down other one...is the winner"... And shyam removed his jacket , now he was in his pathani kurta and salvar...looking like a scary man...I was a petite little girl but that doesn't mean that I can't beat him...I can and I will ...this is my chance to save everything ...to save Aarav...and I will save them.. For the future of .our both the gangs...I have to do this.

Forcing him to look into my eyes I softly said, " Do you know these knights ?" Perriere roamed his eyes around the prison, the sight of unconscious knights made him shiver in coldness. I know how scared of death Duke Perriere is. Just like Noah! " A...W-Who are they...?" Glaring at him I replied," They're royal knights of the Bliaviroth empire. Warriors of noble Shadowed pack who Noah sent as test subjects to vampires." " W-What do you mean...?" His face turned white as I increased my strength on his jaws. Perriere held my hand, trying to release my fingers off his face.

Silhouette Two I had never left my hometown. I had never had any reason to; after all there was everything I would ever need in it. A college, where I had gotten my degree, and a family business I had hoped to take control of one day. But things changed. And I didn’t know whether that change was going to become for the worst or for the better.

A baby wailed in a burning cradle until silence swallowed it whole. Three dozen Royal Knights—the finest warriors of the southern territory—arrived on griffin-back, blades drawn, magic flaring. They lasted seven minutes. Lightning struck their beasts from the sky. The witches toyed with them. Aldrian smashed through shields and bone like a demon from the pits of forgotten hells. One knight crawled, bloodied and sobbing, toward a broken scepter of communication—but his head was torn clean off before he reached it. The forest swallowed the screams, the smoke, the cries.

He and his brother, Buto Ireng, stopped their steps. "Call it that, but I won't be lenient with you." Joko Bedul grimaced, showing a row of canines. "I agree. We won't go easy on you either!" Buto Ireng hardened his right hand to become as hard as steel. He ran and swung his fist at Joko Bedul. The white lion deflected Buto Ireng's fist with his silver shield that was created right in front of Buto Ireng. Joko Bedul moved and jumped towards Buto Ireng. He bit Buto Ireng's neck until Buto Ireng screamed and fell backwards.