Silver Death Novels & Stories

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.

My cry of anguish mixed with the stunned silence of those gathered around as they witnessed the unthinkable act unfold before them. Silver's body slumped to the ground, her life slipping away in a poignant sacrifice that left a profound sense of loss hanging heavy in the air. Shock and sorrow gripped my heart as I knelt beside my fallen friend, feeling the weight of Silver's sacrifice settle upon my shoulders. She lay there, her breaths shallow, eyes dimming yet radiating an odd sense of peace. Krimson was beside me, his expression a blend of sorrow and acceptance, silently acknowledging Silver's farewell.

His snarls turned into cries of pain as we tore into him, the tide of the battle shifting in our favor. “You can’t kill me!” Killian roared, his voice defiant even as his blood stained the ground. “I am immortal!” Silver stepped forward, her eyes locking onto his wolf's. A smirk tugged at her lips as I spoke, my voice steady and filled with certainty. “You may be immortal,” I said, my tone cutting like a blade. “But I am the Silver Wolf. My venom is the only thing that can kill you.” Killian’s wolf froze. “No,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I won’t make it. I can’t believe it… I’m going to die, and I haven’t even found my mate yet.” “Don’t say stupid things. You are not dying,” I snapped, fury bleeding into my voice because he was still talking, still wasting breath while more blood seeped out of him with every word. Silver was every wolf’s worst nightmare. And silver to the chest was a signed death warrant. The metal was blocking his healing, turning his blood black. Before anything else, I had to get it out of him. Now. I extended my claws and, without hesitation, drove two of them into the entry wound.

"I had no idea." Samantha nods gravely. "Silver is deadly to our kind. It's the only metal that can truly kill us. And that sword was made of pure silver." Lucas nods in agreement, saying, "Your ancestors knew this, so they must have put the sword there for that purpose." Emma's eyes widen as she realizes that the statue of the Roman soldier and the sword had always been in the hallway, and she'd always thought it was just for decoration when she was younger.

And Jolene’s whole body dissolved in the molten lava of her release. “Fuck, yes,” Silver growled, and let himself finally take his own pleasure. He pushed deep – as deep as he could go – and then held himself there. His large body strained, tensed… and he rode the undulating, pulsing waves, just let them wash over him, crash over him, over and over, before slowly relaxing.

My blood turned to ice. “She must not live,” Silver continued coldly. “If she dies, Rylan will finally look at me. Really look at me with love.” The man recoiled. “You’re crazy,” he muttered. “This is insane.” Silver’s lips curled into a twisted smile. “Crazy?” she echoed softly. “No. I’m desperate. What I want I must get it. And whoever stops me will die.” My heart was pounding so violently I thought it might give me away.

Silver was strictly forbidden in ritual pack combat, it was a lethal toxin, a weapon of cowards. The silver blade missed my throat by a fraction of an inch, but the sheer proximity of the metal sent a wave of burning, nauseating sickness through my veins. I stumbled backward, my vision blurring instantly as the toxic radiation of the silver reacted with my wolf. Diamond roared in agony inside my skull, paralyzed by the mere presence of the metal, leaving my human muscles weak and trembling in the oppressive summer heat. "Die, you parasitic bitch," Nahash screamed, her eyes completely manic as she drove the silver dagger forward again, aiming straight for my heart.

We all cry, but as she snatches it up, nothing happens to her. “I belong to Nester, remember?” she bites. “I can’t get hurt.” “But John died when it hit him.” “John was already undead. I’m not.” She explains, “That’s the point of the silver; to kill Nester’s enemies, yes, but to kill his feral soldiers in case they go too wild. It can’t hurt me now cause of Nester’s mark, but when I die it’ll be game over for me.” “Not if we kill him first,” Talon growls. I turn to him; some strands of hair fall down his shoulder, and his beautiful eyes narrow dangerously.

"I'm here to teach you to survive what's coming. Whether you keep your humanity or not... that's your choice to make." "Then teach me," Wendy said. "But don't try to make my choices for me." The marks on her skin pulsed brighter, and for a moment, her eyes flashed pure silver before returning to their normal hazel. Aria and Byrde exchanged a look over her head - worry mixed with something else. Fear, perhaps. Or recognition. "Very well," Aria said. "We'll do this your way. But remember - the silver power has its own will. And it's patient. It waited a hundred years for me to stop fighting it. It can wait for you too."