Silvercandle Ii Novels & Stories

"Or perhaps just heavy. I am looking for the artisan who understands the soul of the silver. The one who knows how to make a swan breathe." "My son, Bastian, is our head designer," Aris lied, gesturing to his eldest. Althea turned her gaze to Bastian. "Tell me, Master Bastian, what is the melting point of the silver-palladium alloy used in the Cigna lineage?" Bastian blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. "The... the melting point? Well, it’s... quite hot, Majesty. Very hot. We use a very big fire." Althea’s expression didn't change, but her eyes darkened. "I see."

Jax rushed in carrying his laptop, expression excited. "It's starting. Look." He set the laptop on the table, pulling up a social media page. A customer review, posted thirty minutes ago: Bought a Silvercrest Designs necklace last week. Already tarnished green and stained my skin. Then the stone fell out this morning. What garbage quality for the price. #SilvercrestScam #Disappointed #WasteOfMoney Below the post, comments were appearing in real-time. Same thing happened to my bracelet! Clasp broke after three days.

Trista said, her eyes burning with resolve. "I don't want the Ironthorn people pointing at me, saying I only survived by selling myself. I want to cut ties cleanly. I want to make sure no one ever looks down on Silverlight again." That appeal to the pride of their fallen pack finally won Randolph over. Right then and there, the Obsidian cane—the ultimate symbol of Silverlight's golden age—was placed in Trista's hands. Trista felt a massive weight lift. With this, she could go to Xander and have him put it in a high-end underground auction.

Pearl said, and she smiled slightly. "That's because I'm not used to you. The moment you stop crying everytime, we'll click. I really hate tears" the girl replied, sounding a little cold. Pearl wiped her tears again, and she nodded. "Good" Pearl sniffled. "Keep my name a secret though" the girl said, shifting closer. "I promise" Pearl faced her. "My father owns a casino in Spain, and my mother is Chinese... My name is Silver, Silver Banks"

An heir claiming what had been chosen for him. Elara sat across from him, spine straight, hands folded in her lap, eyes fixed on the table. She wore pale ivory, no veil. Her hair had been braided again, tightly, pulled back to expose the shape of her jaw. She looked like something breakable. Not fragile—but tightly wound, like glass just before the fracture. Xavier could feel the weight of the room pressing on the back of his neck. His father stood behind him. Gregor, his grandfather, was seated in the far corner like a statue. Two uncles lingered near the fireplace. Silent. Watching. Always watching.

Seth added. "The shares are apology enough," I replied dismissively. I could not care less about his words as they meant nothing to me now. Seth was caught off guard by my reply, and he smiled awkwardly. "We're moving abroad, Stella. We probably won't come back." Their disappearance was their second gift to me—another abandonment that I welcomed this time. "Good," I said simply. ... When the scores came out, I had a perfect 1600, while Xavier scored 1590. That night, under a star-filled sky, we sat on the swings and shared a knowing smile.

Silver sighed dramatically, taking her time to answer. "Honestly, I can't say that I was. But I'm sure the cops will be happy to listen to the recording of this call if anything ever happened to me, not that you would be silly enough to do anything and lose your shares and stake in the company, but just in case, you know?” “I…what….are you crazy?” Rebecca barked. Silver didn't answer. When the older woman realized she was backed into a corner, she let out a frustrated grunt. "What do you want?” She spat.

⛏️ 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.

Eric Johnson came home really late. Instead of his usual stop at the master bedroom to chat with Yvonne Johnson, he headed straight to my room. I was already in my pajamas, about to hit the hay, when he softly pulled me out from under my cozy blanket. He gave me a small box. "Wendy, I know you've been eyeing this diamond necklace for ages, so I picked it up for you today." I looked at the shiny necklace in my hands and felt a sad chuckle bubble up inside. It was not the one I liked. The one Yvonne had on that afternoon — that was the real stunner.