Thin Silver Chain Novels & Stories

Her gloves are slightly torn at the tip of her finger and the burn marks on it are evident. "You are burnt? isn't the chain made of steel?" Elizabeth asks. Jenny shakes her head "They are made of silver." "but you touched the chain previously and nothing happened" Jenny thinks for a moment looking closely at the chain and the collar before replying "I think the collar around your neck is the only thing made of silver and the rest of the material is made of steel. That's why I didn't feel anything previously" The collar under her neck is made up of Silver. Jenny can’t touch it directly.

Dad argued, and I scoffed. “They are not friends, Dad. They are traitors.” I argued back sassily. It was good that I had closed the bedroom door tightly. So, they can’t listen to a thing about whatever is going on with Gabrel right now. “So you do have silver chains.” Mom mumbled, sounding disappointed. “Yes, I have silver chains—not one, but seven thick silver chains in my possession here, Mom,” I replied to her calmly. I didn’t even look at Calvin and Shannon.

He linked back with a purr. I silently tried to check how strong the chains around my wrists were, I am pretty sure I could break them when the paralysis was over but judging from the rash on my skin, the chains were probably made of silver and they were toxic to my health. I chuckled, if Melody was trying to render me weak, she would have to do better than this.

Silver raised the knife slowly. Aurora was still chained to the bed, wrists cuffed, her head lolling to the side, lashes fluttering as the struggle to pull her hands off the cuffs. Her breathing was shallow and uneven. She had no strength to fight, not yet. Silver’s hands trembled, but her eyes were steady. Cold and Burning with something far older than anger. “You see this knife. I kept it for you all this time. I bought it at an auction in London. Specifically for slitting your throat.”

He nodded slowly. “O-Okay,” he mumbled, unsure what to say. “Good boy.” She smiled then, warm but strange, and pulled something from her pocket. “One more thing.” From her slender fingers dangled a silver chain, on which hung a small purple crystal pendant—teardrop-shaped, with veins of black within it like cracks of lightning. The moment Kael looked at it, he felt something shift in the air, as if the very shadows in the room leaned closer.

Silver goes straight to the bones, and wolfsbane attacks the muscles and other tissues, like my brain, which currently feels like it’s been wrung out like a sponge. Pulling the tight chains forward to get a better look, I notice they don’t have the usual burn of silver, although they glow with a bright, silver-colored shine. Instead, runes glow a faint red as I turn the shackle from left to right, the fading sunlight illuminating the spellcraft holding it together. Ah, no wonder they didn’t bother with silver. These chains are spelled. Tugging with all my might, the chains creak from the strain but do not break. Even calling on my wolf and my new growing powers, the chains do not weaken or g

I had thought exile meant being no one again. I had forgotten I was finally worth something to the wrong people. They came for me at dusk, where the trail narrowed between two shoulders of rock and there was nowhere to run but forward. Four of them stepped out of the treeline. Wrong-smelling, matted, their eyes too bright. Packless, the kind that took coin for ugly work. And they carried what no ordinary rogue would carry. Chains. Coils of silver-bright links, thin and singing, and the sight of them crawled cold across my skin. Iron could hold an ordinary wolf. This silver was worked through with a magic older than any pack alive, and it was made for a throat like mine.

One small exhale, barely visible, and something in him went quiet in a way that had nothing to do with peace. The gold left his eyes. Not gradually. It pulled back all at once, like a tide that came in too fast and overcorrected. Silver replaced it, cool and certain, and the man looking at me then was not the man who had taken that one step forward. This one had already made up his mind. I looked down at my hands. My nails had broken the skin on both palms. I had not felt it happen. Four small marks on each hand, barely bleeding, the kind you make when you hold on too hard to something that was never yours to hold onto.

"This is silver alloy." "It is," I said. "That's pretty smart." "That's Michelle for you." "And she is also annoying," Liora looked at me. "Well, this is going to hurt." "I guess so." She wrapped her hands around the chain near my wrist. "Wait a minute." "What?" "Touching silver does not bother you?" She looked at the chain and said, "No." "Well, that was something I wanted to hear you say out. But we'll discuss that later. Now, we find a way to leave."

He then styled it to look messy. Before going to the party, I made sure that the gift we had gotten for her was in my pocket. It was a necklace that we had crafted for her. The chain was made from a silver alternative. It looked like it was sterling silver, but it did not harm us. There were three entwined hearts. Two of them were turned on their side and connected to look like an infinity symbol. They were connected through the larger heart that was made up of small diamonds. We just hoped that she liked the gift and could not wait to give it to her.