Through Silver In Blood Novels & Stories

“Did you see the silver light, boy?” “Everyone saw it.” The memory hurt. Sera kneeling there, her power pouring out of her like a broken dam. Her eyes had been pure silver. Not the primal wolf-gold she used to have, not human. Something ancient, terrifying, and beautiful. Too weak. I had called her too weak. The Moon Goddess must have been laughing. “Do you know what it means?” Corvus asked. “You said something during the ceremony about bloodlines. About things that should have stayed hidden.”

Silver was strictly forbidden in ritual pack combat, it was a lethal toxin, a weapon of cowards. The silver blade missed my throat by a fraction of an inch, but the sheer proximity of the metal sent a wave of burning, nauseating sickness through my veins. I stumbled backward, my vision blurring instantly as the toxic radiation of the silver reacted with my wolf. Diamond roared in agony inside my skull, paralyzed by the mere presence of the metal, leaving my human muscles weak and trembling in the oppressive summer heat. "Die, you parasitic bitch," Nahash screamed, her eyes completely manic as she drove the silver dagger forward again, aiming straight for my heart.

His expression didn’t need words. “The silver is in her blood,” he said. “Her body can’t filter it. Any normal wolf would already be dead. The fact that she’s still breathing is…” “I don’t care why she’s alive. Tell me how to save her.” Silas looked at me. Through his glasses, his blue eyes held an intensity I had never seen before. “Give her your blood.” “What?” “Your blood. Lycán blood. It’s the only substance in the wolf world capable of neutralizing silver once it’s in the bloodstream. Lycán blood cells destroy silver particles and regenerate damaged tissue.”

It wasn't steel; it was too bright, too cold, and its presence felt like a searing, impossible wrongness. I leaned closer, my mind instantly disconnecting from the corporate environment, the Board demands, and the Logan problem. This was different. This was Pack. With meticulous care, I pinched the tiny strand between my thumb and forefinger and extracted it. It was no more than an inch long, brittle, and intricately twisted to resemble a miniature, crude knot, a gift left precisely where my body would rest. Silver. Unmistakably. The corporate noise vanished, replaced by the primal silence of the wolf detecting a fatal threat. Silver was never accidental. It wasn't contamination. It was a ta

This one was a replica of a silver dagger that I borrowed from Uncle Aeon’s collection. Silver is fatal to werewolves, especially if it is mixed in the blood. And all silver daggers had such a high concentration that it was hard to obtain one. Cutting him deep with it would be a sure way to die. Mine was not real, but he didn’t need to know that. His forehead creased when he saw my hand, and I was sure it registered on him that I was holding a silver one.

Malachi grinned, and I found myself wanting to wipe that smirk off, but my body refused to obey me. But this situation will not last long. Silver may weaken werewolves, but that was only if it was left there. Malachi had removed the blade, so it was only to wait out its effects, and I would be ready to fight again. “Speaking of gifts, do you know it is possible to make silver dissolve when it comes in contact with blood? It's quite hard to manufacture, but nothing I won't do for a fellow alpha,” Malachi cheerily said, like he was reading my mind, and I clicked my tongue.

Maybe he does have a heart in him after all. I turn to check the wound on my shoulder, and it is bare with caked blood covering the spots where the rogue's teeth entered into my skin. The area around the spots is pink, and the burning has stopped. "May I ask you something, your majesty?" I ask him. "Go on." "How did you stop the bleeding? You said that the blood never stops flowing from the bite of a venomous rogue." "Not unless you have a piece of silver," he replies, walking off. "Silver burns into the wound and takes the poison out without the patient even knowing how painless it can be. They're too busy fighting unconsciousness to know..."

"I won't let myself become a vessel of darkness, wreaking havoc upon everything I hold dear." Before I could react, Silver's hand moved swiftly to grasp the dagger at her feet, the one Krimson had dropped. Gasps echoed around the chamber as Silver raised the blade, a hauntingly calm expression on her face. "No, Silver, please!" My voice trembled with desperation, but Silver's resolve seemed unshakable. With a swift, heartbreaking motion, Silver plunged the dagger into her own heart, a sudden hush falling over the room. My cry of anguish mixed with the stunned silence of those gathered around as they witnessed the unthinkable act unfold before them.

Well, even more reasons they should die, no one should know my face or gender, yet. By the time Jonah came to me, the last warrior was being held in a chokehold and I slammed him on his own sword. “I feel useless.” He sighed. “Wanna be useful? Help clean this up. This place is close to a market and people will flip seeing this much blood.” I noted. Jonah folded his hands. “What are you doing around here?” I narrowed my eyes at him, and marched to him, my both hands covered with blood. “Don’t ask, Jonah. I’m Your Silver, I can be anywhere.”

However, soon my stomach roiled violently. I bolted to the bathroom and vomited up everything I’d just eaten. The hollow weakness in my body dragged me back to that moment closest to death. I’d been tortured until I was barely alive. Afraid of answering to Daniel if I died, they called in a healer. She skimmed my test results, her brows knitting into a hard line. “Your silver poisoning has seeped into your bones, and your wolf soul is dormant. You won’t live long. “How long is your sentence? Three years? Perfect. You’ll die not long after leaving Silver Prison. No need to dirty the cell with your corpse.”