Silverborn The Mystery Of Morrigan Crow Novels & Stories

“We continue. And we win. For Raymond. For Marissa. For everyone they have wronged.” “Including you,” Morrigan added. “Yes, Your Majesty. I can’t wait to have them brought to their knees for what they did to you.” “In three days, Lorraine. In three days,” Athena turned back to the book in her hand. Three others she had gone through already that night were neatly stacked beside her. She refused to let her frustration make her impatient. “We will find something. We have to,” she vowed as she turned to a page that vividly showed how silver was first known to be dangerous to werewolves.

I looked over and saw that the man was holding the tome again. “Daire Krvna the only surviving member of the Krvna coven. You shall bond with Lucrezia. Take your ceremonial blade and make her bleed.” Daire gently grabbed my arm. He caressed me with his thumb no doubt trying to soothe the panic that was slowly starting to rise in me. He ran the blade across my forearm. Blood started to pool and drip. Daire then handed me the blade. I was suddenly light again. I got to my feet. This time when the tome was placed back on the podium and the man started to chant it didn’t enter my body the same way it just had. This time Daire dropped to his knees. His hands flew to his temples. He ground his tee

“I don’t know all the details. Your mother was very secretive, very protective. But I know it was someone powerful. Someone within the werewolf world. Someone who’s still out there.” A knock on the door made us both jump. Mira stuck her head in. “Guards are making rounds. We have to go. Now.” Sarah pulled me into another fierce hug. “Be safe, Aria. Be smart. And when your wolf finally awakens, remember, you’re not worthless. You never were. You’re a Silvermoon. You’re royalty. And one day, you’ll make them all pay for what they’ve done.” She pressed something else into my hand, a small pouch heavy with coins. “It’s not much, but it’ll help you get started wherever you go. Now run. Mira will

Who died because he refused to bow to tyrants. Miriam Silvermoon is even more mysterious, but what I find makes my breath catch. The Silvermoon bloodline - one of the most powerful seer families in recorded history. Wolf-born oracles who could see across time itself. *"Miriam Silvermoon, last daughter of the Moon-Blessed bloodline, was known for her extraordinary prophetic abilities and healing gifts. She disappeared shortly after her mate's execution, heavily pregnant with their child. Her body was never found, leading many to believe she died in hiding while protecting her unborn daughter."*

⛏️ 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.

It had also marked her out as different, she was not human, stopping her head-long flight near a lake she walked over panting heavily to look at her reflection. Staring back at her with frightened silver eyes was the most incredible creature she had ever seen, a huge beautiful pure silver wolf. She turned in the moonlight and it caught her fur and she saw that it glittered and glowed with her power. It was stunning to see as the breeze lifted her fur and it sparkled like magic under the stars,

The light faltered. The gold thinned, then thickened, then thinned again, as if two hands pulled it from opposite sides. A thread of white ran through the flame. Not gold. Not red. A pale silver white like moonlight on ice. A murmur grew into voices. A child cried once and was hushed. Outside, bells that should have fallen silent kept ringing, as if they had forgotten how to stop. The silver grew brighter. It folded through the gold and softened it until the two colors lay side by side. The bowl sang a high note that set the candle flames trembling.

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.

"Wolfsbane doesn't kill. What do you mean they are supposed to be dead?" Dr. Riley sighed. “True, wolfsbane doesn't kill, but silver does—at least when left for a longer period in the bloodstream." I took the other tube from his hand and surveyed it. "But there isn't any silver here. How would they have gotten silver?" I questioned. “There is, in that one, if you look closely," he gestured for the tube in Harry's grip, the one that contained the wolfsbane we had seen earlier. Harry raised the tubes against the sun while he squinted. "I do see something in it, but barely."

He could see the red eyes of Dan's werewolf shimmering and he knew that he was only seconds away from a fate worse than death. He quickly thought of a plan. He had remembered that his brother had a high weakness to silver and he knew that he had gotten a silver ring in his pocket. He quickly removed the ring and used the edge of his cloth as he held it up to his brother's face. He spoke in a soothing voice. "Dan, I know you are angry, but please remember that I am still your brother. I am your family. Please, I beg of you, spare me and let me go. I will never bother you or your family again, I swear." Dan snarled and growled, but the silver seemed to be having an effect. He slowly began to s