The Silver Eyes Graphic Novels & Stories

I stammered. "So?" he asked, eyes narrowed. "She just started shifting. Right there. No bite, no warning. She just... changed." Father went quiet. He looked at me as though he had something very serious on his mind, and was trying to remember something he had forgotten a long time before, and then he said in a very low tone, What colour were her eyes? "One eye was silver, like the moon. The other was red, like an Alpha’s." He closed his eyes for a second. Then opened them slowly, stepping back, his expression turning strange. Almost fearful.

He is looking down. He is tall — at least a head taller than me, which is not rare, but the specific scale of him registers differently, the way certain things do when you're standing close enough to notice the detail. Dark hair, slightly dishevelled. A jaw that looks like it was put together by someone who had opinions about geometry. And his eyes — the thing I notice last because I'm working backwards from the hands still at my waist and the chest I just walked into — are silver. Not grey. Silver. The specific clear colour of early water, or a sky before weather.

Kael stared at him. “That is the worst thing you’ve ever said calmly.” I barely heard them. Because my focus had shifted to the scroll Ronan had opened fully. There was a drawing near the center. Faded with age. But recognizable. A woman standing beneath silver symbols carved into stone. Wolves kneeling around her. And her eyes— Her eyes glowed silver. Exactly like the woman from my vision. My breath caught sharply. Ronan noticed instantly. “What is it?” I pointed slowly at the page.

My hands moved with clinical precision, sweeping essential supplies into the bag: concentrated antibiotics, surgical kits, and several vials of Liquid Silver. Then, my eyes landed on a small, unassuming box of amber glass bottles—synthetic pigment drops used for ocular reconstruction after trauma. Silas used these himself whenever he traveled into the human world to make the business deals that expanded his pack’s wealth; they were the only thing that could mask his predatory silver eyes, turning them a dull, unremarkable brown for an entire day. I didn't know why I was taking them, but something deep inside me urged me to shove the entire box into my bag.

"Coated in ionized silver dust. Explosive yield: small. Armor penetration: zero. Anti-magic properties: absolute." "Burn them," Jack said. Catherine squeezed the trigger. The swarm didn't attack the gargoyles' thick skin. It flew into them. The drones targeted the eyes, the mouths, the open gills along their necks. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM. The sky lit up with hundreds of tiny, brilliant silver flashes. It wasn't a fiery explosion; it was a mist. A glittering, deadly fog of silver. For a werewolf or a magical creature, silver wasn't just poisonous; it was anathema. It disrupted the magical binding that held their unnatural physiology together.

I had cried a thousand rivers over the past few years, wallowing in my own self-pity, that I had no more to shed. Except for tonight. Tonight I was experiencing a whole different set of emotions, ones that were inspired by silver eyes. Eyes that seemed so familiar but I know I have never met before. They weren’t grey like some people had, they were steel, bright, and silvery, like nothing I had ever seen, God-like. I should have been thinking of Travis when we had sex, not trying to think of my dead mate, yet I couldn’t even do that right. Instead, I let the arousal from the mysterious eyes guide my body and help bring me to my release.

Silver eyes. Cold as death. The moment our gazes locked, my lungs seized. A chill, sharp and electric, raced down my spine. I knew those eyes. Killain. A whimper caught in my throat. He leaned lower. I flinched. It was the smallest movement, barely a shift in my muscles, but he noticed. His silver eyes darkened—just for a second. Something flickered there. Not rage. Not cruelty. Something softer. So fleeting, I almost believed I imagined it.

his voice was in my head as he banged on the door I carefully opened the door to see Erik standing directly on the other side. Holding my hands up to him “I think I was chained” Erik took my hands in his, running his fingers over the scars “I thought as much when we found you, my guess is silver” “Silver?” “It sears our skin, it can be used to prevent wolves from escaping and preventing them from shifting into their wolf form, do you remember anything else?” “Yellow eyes, hundreds of them” I frown trying to recall the nightmares as they began to fade.

I stepped back and looked suspiciously at him. "Why? Nothing much, it was big and scary and it had weird coloured eyes." "Which were?" He pressed on. "Blue and gray-like streaks as irises." Then he burst out laughing. But it was anything but a humor inspired laugh. This was just plain wicked. But its kind of hard to take it serious with those dimples waving at you. Be serious. Right. "Its actually silver but you're close." Silver? "What do you mean by that?" I was now up against the wall.