Silver Werewolf Novels & Stories

They collapsed beside Cruz, their bodies limp and unmoving. Avery saw the tip of the arrows and noticed that it was laced with silver. Silver is the only thing that renders a werewolf weak to his bones. No wonder her mates all fall. Avery was paralyzed with fear. She knelt beside her fallen mates, desperately trying to assess their injuries. "No, no, no," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Please, wake up!"

I asked, earning an amused look from him. “It seems Angelina’s been filling you up on a few things.” “No, she just…” “It’s fine. That’s necessary knowledge, and yes. Silver can be very deadly to werewolves; many who push past their limit get severely injured, and others don’t survive at all. But those who do survive join the pack as soldiers and that is considered an honor. The second level is more… intense. Silver isn’t the only thing being used during the test. Wolfsbane too, do you know what this is?”

I bit back a scream, but they saw the way my body trembled and the way my fingers curled helplessly. “She’s already shaking,” one of them mocked. “You think she’ll die before we even get started?” “She’ll hold out,” another said. “She’s got that fire in her eyes.” Their words barely registered as I focused on breathing, on ignoring the searing pain in my arms. But then I saw what one of them was holding. A knife. Not just any knife. A silver one. My stomach turned to ice. Silver was lethal to werewolves. But to humans? It was something else entirely. It didn’t just cut us, it burned. It poisoned. It could kill me in an instant.

I could feel the rotation of the earth beneath my feet. I looked down at the mark. It wasn't a jagged wound. It was a glowing, silver sigil of a wolf’s head, etched perfectly into my skin. The heat radiating from it was intoxicating—a constant, pulsing reminder that we were no longer two separate beings. The door to the chamber finally gave way. The first of the Pack—a massive, scarred Beta named Silas—lunged through the threshold, his eyes blood-red with the madness of the Blood Moon. He didn't see an Alpha and his mate; he saw a target.

That is when I noticed something my eyes had missed out on earlier. Something sharp and shiny was embedded in his skin. ‘Silver,’ I realized with a start. I wasn’t sure when exactly the rogue leader had pulled out silver to hurt Elijah, but I could see tiny bits and pieces sticking out of his skin. As if it hadn’t been a clean cut of a silver blade but something that burst into pieces and lodged itself inside his skin, slowing down the healing. Silver used to be our kryptonite. It hampered the wolf’s ability to heal, reduced a wolf’s strength and was deadly to werewolves if not treated on time.

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.

Silver trading was a major source of income in the werewolf world. Alpha Todd was wise, and he knew that this resource could become a source of misery for his pack. He knew how power-drunk people could be. Alpha Todd had to kill his own friend, his Beta, when he found out he was plotting against him. His friend's reason was that he was not monetizing their resources well. Alpha Todd knew all the ways he could make money off Silver, but he was a man that valued his peace of mind and family above all.

This one was a replica of a silver dagger that I borrowed from Uncle Aeon’s collection. Silver is fatal to werewolves, especially if it is mixed in the blood. And all silver daggers had such a high concentration that it was hard to obtain one. Cutting him deep with it would be a sure way to die. Mine was not real, but he didn’t need to know that. His forehead creased when he saw my hand, and I was sure it registered on him that I was holding a silver one.

The book was flat, with only a few pages, and that intrigued me even more. I opened the first page and began to read; “The Silver Bloods are a rare breed of werewolves, descended from the moon goddess herself. It is a line of only female wolves. Not that males are born from these females, but they never seem to inherit the qualities of their mother.” Interesting. There were special wolves out there that were more powerful than the norm. I turned a few more pages and stopped; “Characteristics: They appear fairly normal in their human form, except for their silver hair.”

Liam Rose spent the next couple days sleeping a lot. It was the recovery I knew she needed. Her wolf had no experience processing silver, and I could tell my own wolf was absent quite frequently, helping his mate to guide her through. Silver and werewolves was tricky business. Silver affected just the wolf, but with how closely connected the human and wolf were, silver would kill them both. The way us Wulvers had evolved, though, the wolf could pull away from its human counterpart. With no body to kill, the wolf recovered. Some of the stronger wolves, like Lya’s, could process it much quicker and return faster, or even do it in tandem.