Silver Crow Novels & Stories

He separated from the shadows without a single branch snapping. Bastian Crowne was taller than anyone I had ever seen. His shoulders filled the space between two pines, and the scars across his jaw and throat were silver in the starlight. His hair was short and black, and his eyes burned gold even in the dark. Not the amber flash of a partial shift. Solid, steady gold. He wore no coat. The cold didn’t seem to touch him.

Alarm flashed across her face. "No." Even the creature reacted. Its massive body shifted protectively toward Lyra. The reaction confused her. Why were they all afraid of the Crown? The answer came seconds later. The fragments rose into the air. Slowly. Silently. Pieces of silver bone floating above the snow. Light spilled from them. Not silver now. Gold. A warm, radiant gold unlike anything Lyra had seen before. The darkness beyond the gate became still. The giant eye widened. The Empty King stared.

Making her eyes widen to the size of saucers. If you didn't know, silver was dangerous to wolves. It was one of the things that could be deadly to a wolf. So she wondered why he would give her such a weapon. She uncurled her fists and the prongs disappeared. She curled them again, and they appeared. Three on each hand, to be specific. What is this? That is Death Claw, Desmond replied. It's a silver weapon that can be harmful to wolves, and I want you to have it.

“Did you see the silver light, boy?” “Everyone saw it.” The memory hurt. Sera kneeling there, her power pouring out of her like a broken dam. Her eyes had been pure silver. Not the primal wolf-gold she used to have, not human. Something ancient, terrifying, and beautiful. Too weak. I had called her too weak. The Moon Goddess must have been laughing. “Do you know what it means?” Corvus asked. “You said something during the ceremony about bloodlines. About things that should have stayed hidden.”

Instead, their metal doors were stamped with a bright, shining symbol made of solid silver: a howling wolf head surrounded by three sharp silver swords. It was the Silver Crest. This was the official, terrifying emblem of the global Lycan Council. The vehicles stopped in a perfect line in front of the main building. The doors opened, and six elite Council executioners stepped out into the freezing wind. They wore heavy black leather coats with silver buttons, and their faces were completely covered by dark iron masks. They moved with a synchronized, chilling speed, their boots making heavy, rhythmic thuds against the white snow. Behind them walked a tall, older wolf with long white hair and

the eldest council member says slowly, "we should discuss this more privately." Everyone files out except for Byrde, his parents, my mother, and the eldest councilman. Victoria tries to stay, but the King personally escorts her out. "Now then," the elder says when we're alone. "Let's discuss what really happened when the Collector touched that collar." "It burned him," I say. "The moment my scars touched it, he screamed like it was acid." "Because it was," my mother says. "The collar was made of cursed silver, meant to bind magical creatures. But your marks... they're pure moon magic. The opposite of his dark power."

It had also marked her out as different, she was not human, stopping her head-long flight near a lake she walked over panting heavily to look at her reflection. Staring back at her with frightened silver eyes was the most incredible creature she had ever seen, a huge beautiful pure silver wolf. She turned in the moonlight and it caught her fur and she saw that it glittered and glowed with her power. It was stunning to see as the breeze lifted her fur and it sparkled like magic under the stars,

He could see the red eyes of Dan's werewolf shimmering and he knew that he was only seconds away from a fate worse than death. He quickly thought of a plan. He had remembered that his brother had a high weakness to silver and he knew that he had gotten a silver ring in his pocket. He quickly removed the ring and used the edge of his cloth as he held it up to his brother's face. He spoke in a soothing voice. "Dan, I know you are angry, but please remember that I am still your brother. I am your family. Please, I beg of you, spare me and let me go. I will never bother you or your family again, I swear." Dan snarled and growled, but the silver seemed to be having an effect. He slowly began to s

I stutter like an idiot, not knowing how to describe her divine wolf form. “Well, no. We were too busy running to stop and take a look.” she replies with a sharp edge. She goes to look down before realising that in this form she needs to look back to see herself. “Am I GOLD?” she breathes. “Rose gold, to be precise.” Christian confirms. Because the pink hue of her glossy coat is what matters right now.

One raised its head to the dawn and howled, the sound tearing through Kaelen’s bones. Werewolves. The pack fanned out, circling. There were at least six, maybe more in the shadows. Kaelen gripped the useless remains of his poker before realizing it had melted to slag. He had no weapon. Only the fire inside him, and that was as likely to kill Elira as their hunters. The largest of the wolves padded forward, towering over the others. Its silver eyes locked on Kaelen. “The blood stirs,” it growled, its voice a gravelly rumble that no beast should possess. “He belongs to the Moon.”