Silverback The Order Novels & Stories

My shout echoed in the barren space. Rain held a finger to her lips and shushed me. “Don’t wake the others.” I hadn’t realized until then that there were several other nests like the one I had sprung out of. Each nest had two or three sets of breaths coming from them. “You also don’t want to attract the attention of anyone upstairs. Trust me. Apparently, there is some big prophecy that revolves around one of us, or so I gleaned from passing conversations that I listened in on. They say that the Silverwolf is the alpha of all alphas and that if they can mate her and control her, then there would be no one to stop them." She glanced up at the sliver of light from the door, fear sliding across

"The Obsidian Pack is a protectorate of the western borders. To put an Alpha in his own dungeons is a violation of the Treaty of Silver." "The Treaty of Silver protects wolves, Magnus," Dmitry said, his voice dangerously low. "It does not protect rabid dogs who use royal-grade poison on a matriarch of the First Blood." A collective rustle went through the council. Heads leaned together, hushed whispers breaking out like dry leaves scraping across stone.

"Kill them." Veronica’s voice was soft, almost polite, as if she were requesting a specific vintage of wine rather than ordering a massacre. But the effect was instantaneous and catastrophic. The air in the Great Hall seemed to thicken, charged with a static that made the hair on my arms stand straight up. The fifty members of the Silver Creek Pack—my friends, my family, my neighbors—didn't stand up one by one. They moved as a single, tidal wave of flesh and bone, synchronized by the hive mind of Morana’s dark magic.

This was the dark space John had taught her to navigate—the parts of the web where identity was a choice, not a fact. The keys clacked softly. Access Granted. She was in. The Silas Enterprises main server was a labyrinth of firewalls, but she wasn’t looking for the vault. Not yet. She needed a match to start the fire. She bypassed the financial records and dove into the logistics manifests. There it was. Shipment 909: Silver-tipped ordinance. Destination: The Northern Border. A cruel irony. Abram was selling silver—the very thing that could paralyze his own kind—to keep the peace.

"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

His tone was neither deferential nor commanding just solemn. Ryker nodded, wordless. They moved deeper into the clearing, where the scent of moss and cold earth seemed thicker, pregnant with revelation. Droco looked at Trixie. “I found your trail where the forest thins. Lost. Banished.” Trixie’s breath caught barely a whisper of wind. “You are Alpha-blood,” Droco continued. “Blood that once ruled this entire ridge.” Droco faced Ryker. “She was forced out.” The forest’s hush deepened as Trixie’s world opened and collapsed in the same breath.

"I made the scroll help quicken their evolutions, so in a months time, they should get to level eight." "Hmnph!" Silver heaved a sigh of relief as he rolled on the ground of the cave. "Ensure they return back safely without anyone knowing about their Journey. They still need to learn some things in the Sects. And I won't want our plans to get ruined by a single, tiny mistake." Silver said as he closed his dragon eyes. And the seer flew off towards the Dracula forest. ****** "So what is his name?" An elder asked the managing elder who had came to discuss some matters to him.

The woman hurried to sign for the package, and I slipped toward the exit. By the time she turned around, I was already standing outside. “Ma’am, I can’t complete this order today. I’ll file an incident report with the app. If you really need pet care, please place a new order with clear details.” I left immediately. At the time, I thought it was just a weird mix-up. I had no idea that from the moment I stepped into that mansion, I was already being targeted.

The underground facility stretched out before me, miles of advanced technology, training grounds, weapon testing chambers, and research labs. Hunters moved in tight formations, sparring with silver coated weapons. Scientists worked in sealed chambers, developing new ways to kill werewolves more efficiently. Massive walls were lined with firearms, blades, and enhanced gear meant for one purpose: extermination. This wasn't just an organization, this was war. I barely had time to take it in before a voice called out. "Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up." I turned just as Victor Shaw stepped into view, arms crossed, his sharp green eyes flickering with amusement. Victor was one of t

"About time you woke up. Some of us have actual work to do." "Yeah, yeah, I just needed a power nap," Carson replied, his mouth twitching. "Bring me up to speed." Alexei dragged over a chair, clearly knowing better than to suggest Carson rest first. "So here's the situation. Marcus Silverclaw is neck-deep in this Pure Blood Order crap. Not just involved—he appears to be one of their main guys." "Not exactly shocking news," Carson muttered. "I saw him barking orders at the northern compound." "What is shocking," Alexei continued, "is how far their claws have already sunk in. We've identified cells in at least five territories, including infiltrators in three pack leadership structures."