Silver God Novels & Stories

---- Silverfang Pack--Alpha Carlo’s Throne Room The throne room of Silverfang reeked of blood, musk, and dominance. Alpha Carlo—the Terror of the SOUH—sat motionless upon his massive throne carved from black pearls, bleached bones, and the cured skins of long-dead slaves. His presence alone bent the air. One heavy arm rested against the throne’s edge, rings glinting like sharpened claws, his golden eyes half-lidded as though bored by existence itself. Below him, several elders sat stiffly, their voices reduced to cautious whispers. No one ever raised their voice in Carlo’s presence unless they wished to lose it—along with their tongue.

“Hands like light itself. Healed my brother’s fever with one touch and he was good as new by morning.” My head lifted before I realized it, honing in on the conversation. The speaker was a merchant, middle-aged, half-drunk, spinning tales to a group of guards around his table. I let their laughter wash over me and listened harder. “Where?” someone asked, snorting. “The moon doesn’t walk among us mere mortals.” “Silver Glen,” the merchant said. “A small village near the northern ridge. They call her the Silver Healer. Some say she’s blessed by the Goddess herself. Eyes like molten silver, they say. Glows when she works.”

Suddenly, a tall figure leaped from the bushes, blocking the entrance. "You can't go in! It's an urgent oracle from the Moon Goddess!" Kaiden declared, sounding utterly serious. He was panting from rushing over, and the expression on his face was almost comical. It was the first time I had ever seen him so animated, his expression exaggerated to make them believe him. Kaiden proclaimed passionately, "Moments ago, our high priest sent a warning through the mind-link! This place is cursed! Divine fire will rain down tonight!"

With that in his corner, it was no wonder that Silver had been able to evade Seraphina for twelve years while being a teenager himself. Silver stared her down unflinchingly. “You put your hands on my woman. I will not tolerate this disrespect.” His voice was darker than I had ever heard it. It was likely that Silver might not be in control of his body, possessed by that thing behind him. “Great Dragon,” Seraphina said respectfully. “You do not need to participate in this war.” “The human has taken an oath,” Silver responded, lifting Amy into his arms. “I follow the human’s will.”

The worst of it is that the silvers inside them are neither dead nor alive. They simply continue, breathing, blinking, kept, and the part of every wolf that knows the Goddess made the silver line holy is screaming that this is the deepest wrong in the world and that we have walked straight into the middle of it. Beside me, Dorian's wolf rises gold and stricken in his eyes, and my own lifts his hackles and will not put them down.

And if Gideon had created it, then the silver was the key. “Focus on the silver!” I called out, my voice cutting through the chaos. Zane didn’t hesitate, darting forward to test my theory. He grabbed a knife from his belt, the blade glinting faintly in the moonlight, and drove it into one of the pulsing veins on the creature’s arm. The effect was immediate. The creature let out a bone-chilling scream, its body convulsing as the silver seemed to ripple beneath its skin. It staggered, the glow in its eyes dimming for a moment before flaring back to life.

My heart was thumping a steady, rhythmic beat against my ribs—not out of fear, but out of a profound sense of readiness. I began the walk toward the center of the circle. Adrian was already there, standing by the ceremonial altar. He wore traditional leathers, his chest bare to show the marks of his lineage. As I approached, the pack fell into a silence so deep I could hear the rustle of the leaves in the canopy above. When I reached him, Adrian took both of my hands in his. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to the cool night air. The Moon Goddess hung directly above us, a massive, glowing orb that turned the world into a landscape of silver and shadow.

Siron’s blood on his body acted like acid, burning the bond between the Whisperer and Gideon’s flesh. “NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Ari yelled, his face contorted with fury. “My blood is a protector, not a tool!” Siron shot back. “And it purifies what is unclean!” Gideon collapsed to the floor, his body convulsing. Silver light began to pour from his mouth and eyes, trying to escape. Ari growled, and his silver eyes glowed. He reached out, trying to catch the silver light escaping from Gideon. “No! I need him!”

"Don't touch it! It will destroy your hands! Moana!" "Hold still!" I screamed through my gritted teeth, my tears freezing on my cheeks as I pulled against the heavy net. The gold light in my vision flared brighter, blinding me, consuming everything. It wasn't just coming from my eyes anymore; it was erupting from the red burn mark on my chest—the rejection mark. The golden energy traveled down my arms, pouring directly into the silver net. The metal began to glow, not with the cold, toxic white of silver, but with the deep, ancient gold of the sacred bond.

Silver woke up to a throbbing pain in his forehead. Why was everything so dark? Silver groaned. Ria Above! The pain was killing him. He tried to rub his throbbing forehead, but he immediately pulled his hands back, wincing at the pain, motes of dried blood sticking to his fingertips. What the hell happened to me. Where am I? Silver pulled on his grace and held and held that torrent of power within him; the power that allowed him to create and manipulate water constructs. Of course, the fact that he could pull on his grace surprised him. It could only mean that the summer solstice was over.