Silver Claws Novels & Stories

I grabbed my helmet, my stick, and took a deep breath but as I moved toward the door, a shoulder suddenly slammed right into mine. Yasmine. She glared down at me with her face behind her helmet, “Don't mess this up, Trixie. If anything goes wrong out there, you know exactly whose fault it’s going to be.” I immediately shoved my shoulder right back into hers, hard enough to make her stumble a bit, and pulled my helmet over my head. “Watch where you're going, captain,” I muttered, marching past her. The moment I stepped out of the tunnel, the crowd and the lights hit me, completely overwhelming my senses. My head spun for a second as the volume of the roaring fans washed over me, and I got bum

The Luna’s First Command The silver dagger felt like ice against my throat. Claire’s smile was wide, her eyes glowing with a predatory light that shouldn't belong to a "perfect" Luna. "The silver-pits are a long walk, Claire," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You really want to get your expensive heels dirty on your first night?"

She clearly didn't expect Kelsey to actually make it to the finals. She shot a glance at the clerk, who was holding the dresses. "Hey, wrap these three dresses up for me." The clerk hesitated, but Mia snapped, "Did you not hear me? Wrap them up, do you even know who I am?" "Yes, Miss Marshman." The chandelier above flickered twice, and I caught a whiff of Mia's Bladeclaw Pack scent, juniper with a rusty undertone. As the Luna of Silver Moon, my bloodline made silver scales flicker at my fingertips, but I quickly let them fade before I touched the clerk's wrist.

She said pulling away. Standing up, I picked up a big fur coat and put it on. We live close to silver claw pack, it always snows here so we always have to bundle up to fight the cold. Silver claw sock is one of the 10 packs in lycara — the werewolf continent. Members of the pack are well known for their high enforcement and elite tracking skills.

Mord said, a rare edge of tension in his voice. Killian used his glowing claws to flick the coarse cloth aside. It wasn't a cursed witch's artifact, nor a token from a rival pack. It was a meticulously crafted, pure silver hand crossbow. The arrowhead was coated in a murky, pungent liquid, and carved into the metallic grip was a single rose pierced by a silver sword. "The Silver Order..." I whispered, echoing the name I had seen in Malachi’s ledger, my fingers reaching out to touch the carved rose.

Its wings covered the sun just now, that was why the sky turned dark for a moment. Chu Xun continued observing it curiously. This silver eagle was completely white, its feathers had a chill glow around them, as if made of mithril. Its beak was like a giant iron hook that could easily tear steel apart. Its claws were even scarier, they were like a pair of giant sickles that heralded the arrival of the grim reaper. The silver eagle dashed towards the plane. Its enormous body was extremely deterring. With a flip of its wings, a cyclone was formed in the air. It seemed that anyone falling into that cyclone would be sliced into pieces.

"I go with you." "That's two raids with you present," Silvain said. "The Obsidian Claw is a shadow magic artifact. Ragnar can find it but he can't open the vault it's kept in without shadow magic." She kept her voice practical, because practical was the only register she could use for this conversation without it becoming something else. "I go with Silvain to Silvermoon. Two days later I go with Ragnar to Shadowpaw." Silvain looked at the map for a long moment. Marina could see him working through it, the strategy and the other thing underneath the strategy, the thing he would not name in a room full of people.

Silver Claw. "How did they—" I started, but Silas was already moving, pushing me behind a shelf as three figures emerged from the shadows. Their eyes glowed with an unnatural silver light, and their movements were too fluid, too precise. "Get back," Silas said, stepping in front of me. His stance was defensive, feet planted firmly on the ground. No wolf strength, just years of combat training. The assassins moved with unnatural speed. Their scent was off—wolf, but mixed with something chemical and wrong. The first one pulled out a blade, silver glinting in the dim light.

I turned the word over in my mind. “A what?” I’d never heard of that word before. “A Silvery,” she repeated. “It’s a special silver weapon made by witches. They designed it to deal specifically with shifters. It’s full of dark magic and witchcraft.” “Witches?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “Yes,” Dagny nodded. “It’s not a common weapon, but it’s highly effective. Witches use SIlverys themselves to defend against shifters, like werewolves. But they’ll sell Silverys, too, for the right price.”