Silver Fang Novels & Stories

"Wolfsbane doesn't kill. What do you mean they are supposed to be dead?" Dr. Riley sighed. “True, wolfsbane doesn't kill, but silver does—at least when left for a longer period in the bloodstream." I took the other tube from his hand and surveyed it. "But there isn't any silver here. How would they have gotten silver?" I questioned. “There is, in that one, if you look closely," he gestured for the tube in Harry's grip, the one that contained the wolfsbane we had seen earlier. Harry raised the tubes against the sun while he squinted. "I do see something in it, but barely."

She glanced at the bottom of the page where she saw that it was written by, Mariana Victain. “The Supreme Magus?” This got her intrigued to continue reading the entire excerpt. “The treasures of Immortalis are biologically engineered artefacts known as Black Liver and Silver Fangs. Both were created after several experimental failures involving the blood of the innocent and the tainted hearts of the most vicious wild beasts. The key component of crafting these artefacts came from the hidden inscription on the Cronus monolith. This ancient discovery could only be understood by an adept sorcerer known as Olken Vaud.

Rumor had it a group of Silverfang remnants—the real fanatics were regrouping nearby. "There," Raven whispered, nodding toward the bar. A man with a jagged scar across his throat was nursing a whiskey. I recognized him. Varg. He was a hitman for hire, a wolf with no loyalty to anything but coins. And right now, he was talking to two men in grey tactical jackets. Silverfangs. "They're planning a pincer move," Raven muttered, her hybrid hearing picking up the whispers I couldn't. "They're not waiting for the Blood Moon. They want to hit the supply lines tonight."

The rogue looked exhausted now like whatever strength brought him here was fading quickly. Still…his eyes sharpened when he looked at me again. “You truly don’t know,” he continued. I remained expressionless. “Know what?” The rogue swallowed slowly. “The Silver Wolf.” “Speak carefully,” I warned. The rogue nodded once. “There are stories older than kingdoms,” he said hoarsely. “Stories rogue packs pass down when royal bloodlines try to erase them.” I said nothing. The rogue continued. “They speak of a wolf touched by silver moonlight. Neither fully Lycan nor fully werewolf.”

However, soon my stomach roiled violently. I bolted to the bathroom and vomited up everything I’d just eaten. The hollow weakness in my body dragged me back to that moment closest to death. I’d been tortured until I was barely alive. Afraid of answering to Daniel if I died, they called in a healer. She skimmed my test results, her brows knitting into a hard line. “Your silver poisoning has seeped into your bones, and your wolf soul is dormant. You won’t live long. “How long is your sentence? Three years? Perfect. You’ll die not long after leaving Silver Prison. No need to dirty the cell with your corpse.”

⛏️ Chapter Twelve: The Descent into the Silver Veins ​The air in the disused mine shaft hit us like a physical weight—damp, metallic, and cold. The familiar scent of earth and granite was overlaid with a strange, subtle hum that made the hairs on my arms rise. This was the source of the Silver Wolf Pack’s ancient magic—the ground itself was rich in trace lunar metal, a faint echo of the Shard's power. It was protection, but it was also a homing beacon.

Two days before the ceremony, Karl returned home. He acted as if Natalie had never appeared, as if our confrontation had been a dream. "Stop looking at your phone and try on the ceremonial pendant," he said, holding out an engraved silver pendant meant to be worn during our mating run. I opened the box, glanced at it briefly, then closed it without removing the necklace. "If it's suitable, take it." Karl frowned at my dismissive attitude. "There's nothing between Natalie and me. Can you stop being so hostile toward a young Omega who's lost everything?"

and how much I’d wanted to. “You need to rest,” she said, taking me to the bedroll. “This power’s draining you and you need sleep. Forget about every problem for now.” She was right with her words. The power was like trying to drink from a waterfall, the force of it endless and suffocating. I let her help me lie down, though my mind refused to quiet. Another Silver Fang existed — a healer, older, stronger, and apparently determined to stop me. But why? What did they gain by having me dead?

She had to stand there and watch her mother lie motionless just out of reach, her own grief a heavy stone in her throat that she wasn't allowed to swallow. It’s now come down to her and Ashley. The two sisters were the final pillars of the Silver Fang. Silvia was the shield, anchored to the earth by her love for her family and her sheer refusal to let anyone else die. Ashley was the sword, lost in a trance of vengeance and power, closing the distance between herself and the man who had caused so much pain. Silvia looked at her sister, seeing the fire dancing around Ashley's hands, and she knew they were running out of time.