Silverborn The Mystery Of Morrigan Crow Novels & Stories

The marking was complete, the oaths were sworn, and the moon was our witness. Adrian turned us toward the pack, raising our joined hands high into the air. "The Luna of Silver Fang!" he roared. The forest erupted. Thousands of wolves shifted in a single, fluid motion, their silver and gray furs reflecting the moonlight as they threw their heads back and howled. The sound was ancient and powerful, a song of loyalty and celebration that shook the very ground beneath our feet.

Donald is off his horse immediately, his hands already glowing with diagnostic magic, and the look that crosses his face when he examines me makes my stomach drop even though I’m already lying down. “It’s Morgana,” he says, and his voice has that tight quality that means he’s working very hard to stay calm. “She’s connected to Mabel through the silver wolf bloodline, she’s pulling power directly from her to fuel the ritual preparations now that the counter-spell disrupted her original plan.” “Can you stop it?” Alistair demands.

"You think awakening your bloodline makes you her equal? Child, Queen Seraphine has lived for eight centuries. She's forgotten more magic than you'll ever learn." "Then she has nothing to fear from me." "She fears nothing." But Morganna's expression said otherwise. "The summons stand. Ten days. Present yourself at the Silver Court or face the consequences." "We've already refused," Rowan said, stepping beside Lyra. "That hasn't changed." "Actually, it has." A new voice spoke from the tent entrance. Everyone turned. A man entered. Tall. Slender. His hair was white gold, his skin pale as fresh snow. But it was his eyes that drew attention. Completely silver. No pupil. No iris. Just liquid meta

“Now!” I spun toward the tent—but froze. The cries had stopped. My blood turned to ice. “Why are they quiet?” I whispered. Damien followed my gaze. His face was drained of color. A shadow moved inside the tent. Not small. Not human. Not a wolf. The fabric ripped open from the inside. A towering figure stepped out, its body wrapped in black chains glowing with runes. Its eyes weren’t red—they were silver. Luna silver. It tilted its head, studying me.

Morgana looks at me with a menacing grin, “I guess you are not as strong as you thought you were.” She looks at the rogue, “Get him to the table. We need him shackled.” Fuck that! I will not be shackled again. I threw myself backwards and, on the table, taking the rogue with me. I hear a sickening crack, and his body goes limp. I get up, struggling at this point, but I’m not down. I start prowling towards Morgana, and I see her produce a bottle. Before I could react, Morgana splashed the water at me. I step back and trip over one of the rogues, when it starts burning. This crazy bitch threw liquid silver at me.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the place or time for us to become reacquainted with each other's bodies. ***** When Crimson and I left the room, we found Hunji, Mason, and Morgan waiting for us. “There's more than just me giving Abner the folder, What Tawny and I read were only snippets,” Crimson told us all. The stones are just one of many ways to open the gateway. There are more according to Abner Brooks.” Morgan clears her throat, the pale violet-eyed witch looked like an innocent little bird amongst the shifters, but I had been told by Lamia that she may look innocent but that purity she embodied was deceiving. Morgan was powerful and could be downright scary with what she was capable of.

Absolute Darkness – Elusive Killing Silver’s mother watched with furrowed brows as the dark light covered Mane’s entire frame. Her eyes shook in anxious fear as she recognised the element that was being called upon. Silver who was next to her was confused, not understanding his mother’s sudden change in countenance. But even he could understand one thing: whatever that light was, even his mother was afraid of it!

It ends fast. Bramrik is a wall of fur and rage, holding the perimeter, snarling at anything that twitches. Soryn is already stalking toward the last conscious man, tail low, eyes bright with something cold. The man raises shaking hands, babbling. “Wait—wait—listen—” Soryn doesn’t wait. He pins him with one massive paw, claws digging in just enough to make the man scream. Then he lowers his head, breath hot over the man’s face, and I can almost hear the question he’s asking without words:

A black cat watched them from atop a bookcase, its eyes reflecting red in the firelight. Bones covered the floor in strange patterns. "Sit," Meredith commanded. They sat on stools near the fire. Jasmina's silver cuffs caught the light. Meredith's eyes fixed on them immediately. "Silver poisoning," she said. "Advanced stage. Another week and you'll lose your wolf permanently." "Can you remove them?" Lyanna asked. "I can do many things." Meredith circled Jasmina slowly. "The question is what you'll pay me." "Information," Lyanna said. "About Morgana Blackthorne."

"The time for groveling ended when that ice shattered. We have a breach in the most secure building in your territory. If you want to be useful, tell me who uses raven fletching." Killian rose slowly, his joints popping. He looked at the black arrow, and his pupils dilated until his golden eyes were almost entirely black. A low, guttural growl vibrated in his chest—not directed at me, but at the object. "The Morrigan," he whispered, the name sounding like a curse. "They aren't hunters, Elara. They’re an ancient sect of assassins—fanatics who believe that only 'pure' wolf blood should exist. They view the Silver Lineage as a mutation that must be purged. My father spoke of them in hushed tone