Silver Exe Novels & Stories

Chapter 87. Lily had an expressionless look on her face as she walked over to the table where Mr. Silver was waiting for her. He was clad in a gray tuxedo and the pair of sunglasses he had on only managed to make him look so much hotter. Lily wondered why she had thought of going after Greg when there were even better men like Damien Silver out there. If someone like Ava could bag a man like him, she was worth his attention. Well, this was the best option for her to get him into her bed. She believed that the only reason he would want to see her right now would be to negotiate with her to drop the case against Ava.

"Unstoppable." Everly’s lips parted, her expression torn between relief and unease. "Kaelan… your eyes." I frowned. "What about them?" She swallowed hard. "They’re glowing. Silver." A shiver ran down my spine. Silver. The color of the potion. And the color of the weapon meant to kill us. I turned to the others. "Get prepared. We'll leave in a few minutes." Owen nodded, but Everly stepped in front of me.

Carla said hurriedly before he could finish, though she knew what was coming. Hera Diamonds was the only company left that had not terminated their contract with her since her scandal began and that was because she knew and had helped the CEO in the past. When Hera was just coming up and they needed a brand endorser, no popular celebrity or model wanted to endorse their jewelry but she had stood up and had chosen them out of so many endorsements she was offered then.

Let alone the tights and… I glanced at my feet… ballet flats? “That looks great on you!” “Huh?” I looked up at Logan, who was now buttoning up a dark blue polo shirt. I hadn't even seen him pull his own clothes out. “You were starting to spiral.” Silver said gently. “I took control just for a moment to break you out of the loop.” With those words, the anxiety that had started to grow at the missing time vanished like mist evaporating before the rising sun. Silver was just looking out for me like she always was.

he said, and I frowned at him. "So why does he want you dead?" Theodore asked. "Because of AgK32," he said, and I frowned at him. "Silver serum. While trying to replicate our genes, I made a serum that makes normal werewolves resistant to silver for a short period. It was meant to have a lasting effect, but it doesn't. See it more like a temporary preventive measure. The side effects are not so harmful. A rash and fever after twenty-four hours of usage.

It was unusually heavy. As I examined the ammunition, a chill ran down my spine. The bullets were encased in silver, with a hard lead core, custom-made to inflict maximum damage on creatures like me. Silver, the one thing that could weaken us, render us vulnerable. It was like a poison, a toxic metal that could seep into our veins and strip us of our strength, and it could lead to death if it struck out vitals.

Silver Dust? My hand froze in mid-air. "Good. Keep giving her the injections. Double the dose. She can't get her wolf back, not until Selene completes the succession and claims her birthright as Alpha of the Red Fang pack." That was Kael's voice. My mate. My Alpha. "But Alpha, prolonged exposure to Silver Dust will shatter her wolf's soul…" "I said, keep injecting her! She thinks it’s Lunar Essence to help her recover. She’ll never suspect a thing."

I asked Silver, my voice hoarse beyond belief. “Look, guys, what matters most right now is making good use of this gift that Ann left us.” Silver did not want to talk about it. He opened his palm again, the blue glowing stone visible in the dark. At a closer look, it looked like a… “This is her mind.” Silver said, looking at our confused faces. “It's a special skill of a witch with a natural body. She can extract all her memories and pull them out before she dies.” …I was about to say my heart but Silver's words got to me first.

The silver in me rises, not to fight, not to crush, but to listen. Pressure mounts. I can barely breathe. I plant my feet. I don’t move. The silver holds—not exploding, not flaring. It anchors. The land listens too. Roots settle. Stones steady themselves. The surge folds in on itself, collapsing like a wave that meets solid rock. Lydia staggers, eyes wide. “What did you do?” she spits. “I stood where it breaks,” I say, quiet but firm. Silence. Real, complete silence. The observer woman lets out a slow breath. “So that’s the difference,” she says, almost to herself.