Silvia Likens Novels & Stories

She replied bitterly, fidgeting with her clothes, " AS YOU COMMAND, ALPHA." Silvia departed without turning her back. I cursed myself for being too rude to her. I hated myself even more for paying attention to her. But could I stop myself? NO.. _______ || SILVIA's POV || " You look so.. stunning..My Goddess!"

“But what about the others? The children? The elders who protected you in secret? My heart cracked a little. I looked at my hands. The same ones that had glowed with power I still didn’t understand. “I’m not brave,” I whispered. “Yes, you are,” Silvia said suddenly. I looked up, surprised. Silvia walked forward, slowly lowering her knife. “You didn’t run when they took everything from you. You didn’t break. And you didn’t become like them.” I didn’t know what to say.

Jiyya truly could not comprehend it. “Hey... Jiyya, listen. Sorry, but even though you may have gotten the sexiest lecturer on campus, the fact remains that Silvana was clearly the first one to make a move,” Silvana said, as usual, feeling the need to be ahead of everyone else. She was, after all, fiercely competitive and did not particularly enjoy being outdone. “Go away!” Jiyya shouted back, half trying to chase Silvana off. But the moment she raised her voice like that, her head throbbed painfully. She winced and immediately crouched down, trying to ease the pain.

“When she discussed what 'like' was, my heart felt uncomfortable.” Silas went silent, really wishing to tell Conrad about Fia, yet feeling extremely fearful.

Silva vigorously nodded, letting go of some of the curls that were piled on top of her head. So, who are you aiming for? Silva chuckled. “Sam. He is flawless. He is ten years my senior, but when he wants, he can really lay on the charm. He is also accustomed to my flirtations. "I can see you turning on a lot of wolves." “Yeah.” Silva played with her unruly curls. "I have a bit of a joking nature. I suppose I ought to tone it down.

I prevented her from acting worse than that and embarrassing me in front of the others. Silvi lowered her face immediately, visible from between my open fingers. She pointed her hand at me. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just a little excited." She quibbled. But Silvi was like that. She was a hardline romance lover. It didn't have to be her who felt the romance to make her happy and excited. Other people's relationships that looked sweet in front of her eyes could also make her scream out loud, make her smile from ear to ear, make her move her fingers in the air quickly, and make her feet kick in the air, also make her suddenly limp into jelly.

She frowned and pretended to look extremely anxious as she said, “I’m afraid—of course I’m afraid.” Hearing that, Mrs. Alberich asked, “Why are you going to Winsterdam if you’re afraid?” Silvia chuckled and replied, “If he can be snatched away by someone else so easily, it won’t be worth it for me to hold on to him anyway.” Mrs. Alberich wanted to say more, but Silvia stopped her and comforted her. “Mom, I know why you’re worried, but I believe that it’s easy to fall in love, but hard to get along. My move to Winsterdam this time can be seen as a test for our relationship as well.”

I bit my lip, the weight of everything—my rejection, my aimless running—pressing down on me. She started walking toward me, slow and deliberate. I tensed, squaring my shoulders, ready for an attack. But she stopped just a few inches away, her eyes searching mine like she was seeing something I couldn’t. “I’m Silvia,” she said, her voice calm but carrying a strength that made me pause.

Her pearl earrings caught the sunlight, glowing softly. "My name is Liliana," she said calmly. "Sir, you've mistaken me for someone else." Salvatore's pupils shrank slightly. He took a step forward. "I've been looking for you for a year." "I told you, you have the wrong person." "Your leg…" "I was born this way." "Your voice…" "A lot of people sound alike." Salvatore stopped. He looked at her. She wore a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her slender arms. Her face was fuller and healthier than before, and her eyes had changed.

“And the pressure.” “Yes.” “And the visibility.” “Yes.” He studied my face. “And it does not scare you.” I looked back at the glowing city. “No.” “Why.” Because once you have lived a life where you felt invisible, where your voice was ignored and your dreams were treated as small inconveniences, visibility stops feeling dangerous. It starts feeling like freedom. “I already lived the life that frightened me,” I said softly. “What life.” “The one where I never tried.” He nodded slowly. “That woman is gone.”