Silver St Cloud Novels & Stories

Blake asked curiously; if he was to survive, he needed money. “The most basic are copper, silver, and gold. A hundred copper equals one silver. A thousand silver equals one gold. One hundred thousand gold equals one Spirit Stone. One million Spirit Stones equals one Spirit Crystal, and lastly, one billion Sprit Crystals equals one Divine Stone, but they are rare; only the royal family has a Divine Stone mine.” Then Sister Song remembered the pile of Divne Stones Blake had shown her earlier, “Present company excluded, of course.” She smiled.

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.

“Thank you.” My mouth hung open when I heard that, the emotions clearly written on my face. Even Silver looked mildly surprised, a light acknowledgment visible in his eyes. Silver then snorted softly, his bubbly aura slowly returning back, the atmosphere that was previously gloomy cleared up. “I am going to catch her now,” Silver vanished. His speed shocked me because I could not believe that anything could move that fast. “He's a thousand years old, he can do things that seem crazy to us.” Cayden explained.

Damien rolled down his window at that threat. “Hello, friend,” he said smoothly, “That won’t be necessary today. We are on our way to Silver Tower, and I can make a quick call to sort this out.” Damien pulled a flat rectangular screen about the size of my hand from a concealed space next to him. “And, as I’m sure you know, silver only works on wolves from the South, not the North. It would sting and make us angry…” he trailed off.

"Starved Iron eats heat. The Obsidian metal eats kinetic force. Neither of them can catch light." "I know," I said softly. I walked to the arched window, looking out over the sprawling, sunlit capital, and then further east, toward the jagged peaks of the wolf continent. "We don't need iron," I said. "We need silver. Raw, unadulterated, tectonic silver." I looked back at the Sovereign. "Elias. The crown on your head, the ancestral silver of your bloodline... where was it mined?" Elias instinctively reached up, touching the tarnished silver band resting on his brow.

Kurt chuckled. “Okay, good.” I nodded my attention, leaving the conversation and turning to the gorgeous building we were pulling up in front of. Silvercloud HQ, I’ve seen pictures, but it’s even more impressive in person. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. I don’t know if I’m nervous or excited. I guess it’s both. If I prove myself this summer, this could be my future. I could move to Bloodmoon and work here full-time. Sure I’d attend college but working for Silvercloud has been my dream since the company launched its first product.

Thomas laughed. They walked into the restaurant through the glass door. The lightning in the restaurant bright, and the tiles on the floor were reflecting it. All the tables and chairs in the restaurant were white. At the edge of every corner was a flat screen TV. It was so cold due to the Air conditioners installed. Richard has never been to a restaurant like that as far as he could remember. The way things are in the restaurant, it was obvious that it was meant for rich people. They were approached by the waiter who gave the menu. While they were deciding what to order, a girl walked into the with two of her friends.

And I was done living like a secret. Done being protected into silence. If the world wanted to hunt the silver fox, it was going to learn something my mother’s bloodline had always known: Silver doesn’t break easily. And foxes? Foxes don’t stay caged.

⛏️ 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.

"She smells of old ink and terror. Tell me, little Scribe, can you see the way we all die just by touching our wine glasses? Or is your gift as limited as your lifespan?" I felt a surge of cold anger. These weren't just mobsters; they were nightmares in silk ties. I reached out and picked up my silver fork, feeling the history of the metal—the hands that had polished it, the mouths it had fed, the secrets whispered over it. "I see enough," I said, my voice projecting with a strength I didn't know I had. I looked Ligeia straight in her iridescent eyes. "I see that this silver was mined from a grave. And I see that the woman sitting across from me is deathly afraid of the dark. Is that why you