The Silver Wolf Novels & Stories

Everyone in the banquet hall was still shocked, forcing their jaws to grow lack and their mouths dropping open at the silver wolf now staring at Darci Meyer. White wolves were rare and superior to others in werewolf kind, but a SILVER wolf of fur that twinkled like starlight had only ever appeared once before. There were only tales about such a legendary wolf. They were so prominent that it was said the Moon Goddess blessed and sculpted the wolf herself.

And then, as if the world had decided to speak its truth to me, I heard the name that had been drifting through the air like a whisper: Ophelia Quinton. The first silver wolf ever recorded in history. The very first one burned at the stake, believed to have brought chaos and damnation to the Pack. I had read that in the worn out pages of a book in the library when I was trying to learn about my wolf. Now, I wasn't just learning about it from the book; I was living in the past that had existed long before I was born. The book never mentioned what her offence was; It only said Ophelia doomed her pack because she was a silver wolf, a rare breed, cursed.

Then, with a sound like thunder unleashed at close range, Samantha—no, her wolf—exploded outward. A massive silver wolf landed on all fours, fur shimmering like moonlit frost, eyes blazing with molten silver. She towered over the rogues, bigger than any Omega, almost the size of an Alpha wolf; ancient, noble, terrifying. The rogues scrambled. “Shift! Shift!” one yelped, voice cracking with terror. But it was too late. The silver wolf lunged. Her jaws clamped around the first rogue’s throat before he could shift. Bone snapped. Blood sprayed. His body hit the floor with a dull thud.

A great, shimmering wolf erupted from my form—not a physical wolf, but a spirit projection, massive and glorious, its fur the color of moonlight on snow, its eyes twin stars burning with ancient fire. The wolf—my wolf, Zoey—stood ontop of me, between me and Eric, and the world went absolutely silent. Then someone screamed, "THE SILVER WOLF?????!!!!” Another gushed with disbelief. *Moon goddess! IT'S THE LEGENDARY SILVER WOLF!" “Wasn’t it extinct?” The effect was instantaneous. Every wolf in sight—guards, nearby servants, even the elders who had followed us out—dropped to their knees. They bowed their heads, their hands raised in supplication.

Just as I'd thought, they were still here. They were gaunt, twisted by madness, their wolves feral and unclaimed by any pack. I didn't waste time and ready myself. I shifted mid-leap, the familiar crack and pull of my bones melting into fur and muscle, my silver wolf came out. My sharp claws tore through the air, my wolf's snarl ripping through the night. They heard me. But it was too late for them. The fight was short, I make it fast enough. Brutal, to kill them in just one blow. One down with a crushed throat as he did not even know what happened.

He wasn’t getting up. Tracy’s face drained of every hint of color. She staggered back, shaking. The manager almost pissed himself when the beast emerged from the shadows. A massive wolf, it was as black as midnight, eyes glowing silver. Serena’s heart swelled with twisted pride. “Silver,” she whispered, her voice steady and cold. “Show none of them mercy.” She didn’t need to say it twice. Silver never intended to let a single one of them leave alive.

For a little while, it was just us and the forest. When Alexa finally slowed down, I noticed a lake ahead, its water so clear it looked like glass. “Wow, look at that,” I said through the mindlink, my voice soft with awe. Alexa padded closer, her paws silent on the soft earth, until we reached the edge of the lake. I caught her reflection in the water, and my breath hitched. She was a silver wolf, her fur shimmering like moonlight, with patches of white woven through it. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered, stunned. Silver and white wolves were rare—almost unheard of. I’d never seen one in person, and now here I was, staring at my own wolf. “We’re rare, Alexa. Did you know that?”

I let out a chuckle before focusing on the book. “The silver wolf is a rare type of wolf that came into existence a thousand years ago. A thousand years ago, the werewolf race almost came to an end since they were being hunted down by humans and other supernatural races. The Moon Goddess, Selene, feared for her children, so she created a special kind of wolf and blessed it with magical powers that would be passed down from generation to generation. This wolf could be identified by its unique features like silver fur and golden eyes…” I trailed, my heart slamming hard against my chest. The silver wolf was blessed with magical pow

He was tall—easily 6'5"—with hair so dark it swallowed the light and features so sharp they looked sculpted from granite. The air around him shimmered with suppressed power, the kind that didn't need to be displayed to be understood. ​ As I approached the table with a tray of fresh bacon, keeping my gaze locked on the tablecloth, a sudden, almost physical force slammed into me. It wasn't Kael's power, but something deeper, a jolt that went straight to my core. The bacon grease sizzled, and I nearly dropped the heavy tray. ​ I flinched, my eyes snapping up just for a second, to locate the danger. ​ And I looked right into his eyes. ​ They were a piercing, crystalline silver—the color of the m

Cassian says, gentler now, pushing off the frame. "And it's your wolf they need up there. A silver reads old blood and bad magic the way the rest of us read a fresh trail. Whatever's driving those rogues, you'll scent it before anyone. The Silver is a story in Thornridge, Aria. A title. Nobody up there is going to look at a legend and see a Hollis runt."