Silver Black Fox Novels & Stories

And I was done living like a secret. Done being protected into silence. If the world wanted to hunt the silver fox, it was going to learn something my mother’s bloodline had always known: Silver doesn’t break easily. And foxes? Foxes don’t stay caged.

These foxes didn’t do anything without a reason. “Your m-mate?” The shivering fox muttered to himself in the back. “Foxes don’t have mates.” The fattest fox on the left laughed the loudest. “A match made in heaven. The most feared Alpha in the unknown world and the Silver Fox.” Silver Fox echoed through my head. A collection of gasps ricocheted from my pack members as they took a step back in shock. My own deep growl emanating through the forest. “Do not accuse her of anything.” Aiden shouted at them.

My voice, now his, fills the room—rich, velvety, commanding. “Silver should be dominant.” Silence. Cassidy blinks, then glares. “Aries, if you’re going to hijack Delilah’s body, at least say hello first.” Aries chuckles through my lips. “Hello, little human.” Alma crosses her arms. “Why silver?” My lips curve into a smirk. “Silver is the color of the moon, the bond that ties mates. It represents strength, purity, and divine right. It will remind everyone that Delilah is not just a queen but the vessel of the strongest wolf to walk this earth.”

Damien rolled down his window at that threat. “Hello, friend,” he said smoothly, “That won’t be necessary today. We are on our way to Silver Tower, and I can make a quick call to sort this out.” Damien pulled a flat rectangular screen about the size of my hand from a concealed space next to him. “And, as I’m sure you know, silver only works on wolves from the South, not the North. It would sting and make us angry…” he trailed off.

It's so unnecessary, but whatever, I'll oblige his ego this once. "Looks like we didn't chase you off fully." The wolf is all jokes, huh? He chuckles like it's one, but we all know he isn't joking at all. I shrug. "I'm like a cat. I got nine lives." "Aren't you a fox though?" Misty asks. Yes, Capt. Obvious, I'm indeed a fox. My sarcastic remark is on the tip of my tongue when Maverick pierces me with a warning look. I swallow down those words regrettably. I take a deep breath like Maverick did and then I release it.

I see him immediately, kneeling on the floor with his head down. A tight leather with a long leash is wound around his neck, but apart from that, he is totally naked. I am taken aback by his appearance. He is an older, handsome silver fox. His hair is a mass of gorgeous white. His jaws are sharply defined and slightly stubbled. My guess? He’d be in his late fifties or early sixties yet he does not look it. He is broad-shouldered, well-muscled with rock-hard abs lining his belly which suggests he is a religious gym nut.

For a little while, it was just us and the forest. When Alexa finally slowed down, I noticed a lake ahead, its water so clear it looked like glass. “Wow, look at that,” I said through the mindlink, my voice soft with awe. Alexa padded closer, her paws silent on the soft earth, until we reached the edge of the lake. I caught her reflection in the water, and my breath hitched. She was a silver wolf, her fur shimmering like moonlight, with patches of white woven through it. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered, stunned. Silver and white wolves were rare—almost unheard of. I’d never seen one in person, and now here I was, staring at my own wolf. “We’re rare, Alexa. Did you know that?”

It wasn't steel; it was too bright, too cold, and its presence felt like a searing, impossible wrongness. I leaned closer, my mind instantly disconnecting from the corporate environment, the Board demands, and the Logan problem. This was different. This was Pack. With meticulous care, I pinched the tiny strand between my thumb and forefinger and extracted it. It was no more than an inch long, brittle, and intricately twisted to resemble a miniature, crude knot, a gift left precisely where my body would rest. Silver. Unmistakably. The corporate noise vanished, replaced by the primal silence of the wolf detecting a fatal threat. Silver was never accidental. It wasn't contamination. It was a ta

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.