Romans & histoires Silver Circlet

I look at my father's ancient silver crown, noticing a tiny, pulsating purple gem that has embedded itself into the central star-metal peak. The heirloom has rested upon the brow of every ruling alpha of the Crescent Moon Dominion for centuries, forged from sacred lunar metals and blessed with ancestral wards designed to protect our minds from foreign intrusion.

Vesper the dragon fluttered off Silas's shoulder, hovering two feet above the child's head, its starry wings glowing softly. Dominic and Clara reached out together, their hands joining over the Crown of the Sovereign Heir. Together, the Emperor and Empress picked up the glowing circlet, gently lowering it onto Prince Silas's dark curls. The moment the crown touched Silas's head, the four elemental gems on the circlet flared to life! THUUUUUUUUUUUUUM! Silas’s tri-blood core went into overdrive!

“Pure silver. Blessed. Where did you get that?” I looked down. On my middle finger, the silver ring Derek had given me on our first official date shone under the dressing room light. It was a simple ring, without stones, with an internal inscription that said “Protection.” He had bought it from a local artisan who told him the silver was “special,” that it had been blessed by someone. At the time, I thought it was romantic. Now I understood it was something else. “This is pure silver.” I stated, raising my hand. The red mark on Meizan’s fingers was getting darker. “You don’t like silver, do you?”

had never added up in this quest of his. “I think this is suitable for a princess of the Fae,” Rivyn’s mother decided, returning from another chamber, and setting a delicate golden circlet made to look like rose leaves and thorny vine upon the dresser surface. Diamonds glimmered like droplets of water intermittently upon the leaves.

At the center of her chest hangs a great silver ouroboros. It is my mark made of a serpent curving into a perfect circle with its jaws closing around its own tail. Tiny scales have been worked into the metal; the creature appears to be alive as blue firelight moves across it. My mark is much larger than an ordinary pendant, unmistakably possessive rather than simply decorative.

My grandfather called out, making me refocus my glare to the man who'd been suspiciously quiet for the past twenty minutes now—almost as if he was on the edge for making something go wrong. Or maybe perhaps he was now at the round table in the DaSilvers Mansion with his wife. “Ah, yes, Don Silver.” Salvatore finally responded, plastering a smile as he turned to scan the faces around, swallowing when he met my icy gaze. “About the wedding…we agree to your terms. All preparations have already been handed over to your organisers. The Morettis will just tighten the security with ours and invite my investors to make the connections bigger between our families.”

Aameris spoke almost in a whisper, but everyone in the room heard him. The three couples kissed, then turned to look at the crowd. Lindaat started to glow, and a crown appeared on her head. Twisted silver and bronze metals looking like a tree being held by silver roots. Around the crown, small diamonds rose, looking almost like trees. When she turned to look at Teleraamon, he had a circlet of the same silver and bronze on his head. Ailive gasped when a crown appeared on her head, with a solid silver band with sapphires around the edges that looked almost like tears. Dakkaath had a circlet of silver with a hint of bronze in it. Xylia smiled brightly at the two, then felt something on her head

A slender woman with sharp red eyes and long golden hair sat behind it. “Lita Master Hemo would like you to get this girl situated. She and the small child in her arms should be in the dining hall in twenty minutes.” Miles gestured to my brother. “I thought his name was Cadogen?” I said, a bit confused. Miles stiffened. He took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto his face. “Here in Veinland we use a person’s surname that is not acquainted with us personally. Master Hemo is this coven’s ruler. His family has ruled this coven since the treaty of silver sion.” I nodded, not really understanding.

I pulled it out– ‘A Feline’s Capabilities…The Cat as The Obsidian Circle’s Symbol” it read. It was a quick read. It simply explained what the symbol meant. I found it interesting. It wasn’t just used on rings alone, as I thought. There were other artifacts–pendants, medals based on rank. Even on canes, like that of Professor Pint. All made from pure silver, with that immaculate artistry of a cat curved beautifully, with a crystal embedded in it’s face, for eyes. ‘Deep sightedness” it was called in the booklet, a value of The Circle.

Elena cried out, stumbling back, a line of red welling on her forehead where a moonstone had cut her. Silas held the circlet in his fist, the metal biting into his palm. He looked at it with utter contempt, as if holding a venomous snake. “This,” he hissed, “is nothing. A piece of pretty trash for a pretty liar.” His eyes, glowing with a feral, golden light, burned into hers. “You are not my Luna. You will never be my Luna. You are a schemer in a stolen gown, and your only use to this pack is the air you waste.” He turned and hurled the circlet across the room. It struck the stone wall with a sharp, discordant clang, the moonstones shattering, the delicate vines bending. The sound was the de