The Silent Blade Novels & Stories

He was kneeling. Scarred hands behind his back. Shirt ripped open. Eyes locked on mine as if tethered. “You’re quiet tonight,” I murmured, swirling the last of my red wine in its crystal cage. My heels clicked slowly over the marble floor, the black slit of my gown whispering against my thighs with each step. Silas didn’t answer, not with words. Just a clench of his jaw. Just the unmistakable way his eyes dropped to my hands as I reached into my thigh holster and slowly drew out the golden blade.

The ceramic blade began to sink into the empty air. Inch by inch, the razor-sharp edge cut directly through the frequency of the barrier. The amber light illuminating the spherical room began to flicker violently, the images in the millions of mirrors distorting into jagged, terrifying digital glitches. Silas’s face melted into a horrific smear of grey pixels. Luciano’s mafia ghost vanished into a cloud of static. "The bread only rises if you let it breathe," I whispered through my grit teeth. The tip of the blade finally touched the solid glass of the cylinder.

Amelia, do you think that just because victory is in your grasp, you can look down on me like this? Do you think that by destroying my sword, you can trample me underfoot? You are far too naive! Isaiah's fingers curled slightly inside his sleeve. There, he still had his final trump card—a Silent Needle, the Palmer family's unique hidden weapon. The Silent Needle was forged from Frost Iron, as thin as a hair, silent and invisible when used. It was coated with the world's deadliest Destroy Poison. Even a master at the Heaven Spirit Phase, if accidentally struck, would have their spiritual resolve destroyed instantly and become a cripple.

They didn't attack; they simply stood, their presence a weight that threatened to snuff out the very air. "Eryx! Leo!" I shouted. Eryx lunged at Silas, his violet-fire blade clashing against the obsidian crystal. The impact was a shockwave of gold and purple sparks that illuminated the cold ash in the pit. Leo stood over the Oracle, his Grey-Steel blade shimmering as he parried the advances of the Hive wolves. "Darlene! The ash!" Eryx roared, his bronze skin steaming as he fought the "Silence" within his own blood.

The room went very quiet. Blade stood completely still for a moment that stretched far too long. He was aware of Hector somewhere behind him in the doorway. He was aware of Petra still crying softly in the chair. He was aware of the faint sound of the house around him … the distant closing of a door somewhere, the settling of old walls. He was aware of all of it and he felt none of it. What he felt was something vast and furious rising from somewhere beneath his ribs, burning upward through his chest, filling the back of his throat until he could barely breathe around it.

My hiding place. I sat on the rock by the water, picking up stones and throwing them as far as I could. One splash at a time. One stone. One pain. One memory I couldn’t erase. A presence shifted behind me. “You’re here today,” a calm voice said. “I was starting to think this place was mine alone.” Blade Lucious. He lowered himself onto a rock beside me, not too close, not too far…carefully like he understood silence. Blade is Alpha Ryder’s Beta, he’s different from the others—quiet, controlled, never trying too hard. I’d met him here weeks ago, by this same lake and he seemed decent.

"I'm sorry, Grace. The forest really isn't safe. I have to find him. I promise I'll come back and finish this with you." I gave him a faint smile, though I could barely breathe through the pain in my chest. He would not come back once he left. That was always how it ended. As he bent down to comfort Laila, I quietly poured the bond-breaking potion into the wine glass. I walked over and held it out to him, my voice soft but firm. "Finish this, and I'll forgive you." Philip smiled and finished it in one gulp. He put the glass down and left with Laila without a second glance.

The Hollow Blade lay across the table beside her, black metal gleaming faintly in the firelight as it frequently made itself visible. It had been silent for days. No whispers, no murmurs, only that stillness that stretched endlessly, like a storm holding its breath. She leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “What are you planning?” she whispered. The blade didn’t respond. “After everything you’ve done,” she murmured, “you choose now to be quiet?” Still nothing. She rose suddenly, pacing before the fire. “I know you can hear me,” she hissed. “You always can.” Then, just as she stopped speaking, a faint vibration tremored through the air. The metal pulsed once… then fell silent again.

BLADE 2. He forced his tongue into my mouth and pinned my two hands roughly on the bed. He doesn't allow me move. I wiggled my body but he ended up hitting my boobs with his palm. The pain sent the wrong sensation down my pussy. It throbbed shamelessly. He stopped kissing me and before I knew it, I landed a slap on his cheek which I regret doing. His demeanor changed instantly. I presume it didn't sit well with him.

The first Harvester didn't scream when I took its throat. It couldn't. The vocal processors in its white synthetic shell weren't calibrated for pain, only for the clinical reporting of the harvest. I moved before its magnetic boots even settled on the marble. The Phantom Blade was a sliver of shadow in my grip, less a weapon and more an extension of the Sovereign engine roaring in my chest. It wasn't a lunge; it was a high-density burn that turned my muscles into coiled wire and the air into a haze of static.