Through Silver In Blood Novels & Stories

CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE ALPHA AIDEN'S POV : I kept running back to the pack with speed, though I was already feeling the effect of the silver that pierced into my chest. *Silver is one of the things that can weaken or kill us*. With every step, I felt weaker and weaker. I could feel the silver poisoning my bloodstream, sapping my strength. But I pushed on, driven by the thought of my pack. I had to get back to them and my family.

Just days ago, he had torn a soldier’s head clean from his shoulders, simply for failing to follow an order quickly enough. Now, with his eyes blazing and his rage trembling on the edge of eruption, Lucas looked deadlier than ever. “It’s… it’s actually the blood of a Lycan,” the soldier stammered, “and pure silver.” Lucas’s brows furrowed. Pure silver? Everyone knew silver was forbidden. It was poison to werewolves. How could it possibly cure anything? “I thought silver was poisonous,” Lucas muttered, confusion slipping into his tone.

He growled and moved to my left flank, swiping at me, luckily I was prepared and he missed me, he was definitely faster than the others. Doing another attack and swiping at his lower abdomen, taking a chunk of his flesh with me, blood pooled at my fingertips as well as dripping from his stomach. He took a step back from me, shocked that I could probably parry with him, “I'm not just a little girl, I am a silver blood, a species that was meant to bring your kind to justice and that is what I am going to accomplish.” After declaring, Hughes gnashed his teeth and attacked once again, this time slower than before.

I stared at him, my voice barely a whisper. "It's not a toy, Viola. It's a test," Seth said, his voice flat. His cold gaze met mine. "Silver is the ultimate test. If he can't overcome a little pain, how will he face a real enemy? He's not worthy of my blood!" Silver is poison to werewolves. Especially to a pup who just had his First Howl. Every touch would feel like a thousand needles. He wanted to use pain to burn the "weakness" out of his own son's blood.

The faint scent of silver drifted from them, a trick he used to test a wolf's endurance against pain. Carla's confidence flickered. She swallowed hard but tried to mask it with a smirk. "You want us to fight?" "No," Alpha Archer said, his tone as sharp as flint. "Both of you will stand there to endure." The warriors fastened the chains lightly around our wrists, not enough to wound, but enough that the silver stung faintly where it touched skin. My pulse raced as the burn bit into me, searing and cold at once. I clenched my jaw, refusing to make a sound.

"She smells of old ink and terror. Tell me, little Scribe, can you see the way we all die just by touching our wine glasses? Or is your gift as limited as your lifespan?" I felt a surge of cold anger. These weren't just mobsters; they were nightmares in silk ties. I reached out and picked up my silver fork, feeling the history of the metal—the hands that had polished it, the mouths it had fed, the secrets whispered over it. "I see enough," I said, my voice projecting with a strength I didn't know I had. I looked Ligeia straight in her iridescent eyes. "I see that this silver was mined from a grave. And I see that the woman sitting across from me is deathly afraid of the dark. Is that why you

“The Blessing in my blood... it repels silver. The dagger channels it. Let me try.” ​Atlas rumbles in deep, reverent approval. I nod, stepping back to give her space. “Do it.” ​Liora closes her eyes. She presses the flat of the silver blade gently against the inflamed, blackened edges of Mara’s wound. ​The reaction is instantaneous. The dagger’s ruby flares blindingly bright. Liora gasps, her free hand gripping the edge of the cot as the Silver Blessing surges from her veins, travelling down her arm and into the blade. A pure, brilliant silver light erupts from the metal, sinking into Mara’s flesh.

Always watching. The scribe cleared his throat. “You may begin.” Xavier stepped forward. His legs didn’t want to move. He felt like he was walking into water. Thick, dark water that dragged at his knees. He picked up the quill. His hand shook. Just slightly. He forced it still. First name. Family name. Pack bloodline. He signed. The ink bled slowly into the parchment, permanent and irrevocable. Then he stepped back. The scribe nodded. “And now the bride.”

My blood turned to ice. “She must not live,” Silver continued coldly. “If she dies, Rylan will finally look at me. Really look at me with love.” The man recoiled. “You’re crazy,” he muttered. “This is insane.” Silver’s lips curled into a twisted smile. “Crazy?” she echoed softly. “No. I’m desperate. What I want I must get it. And whoever stops me will die.” My heart was pounding so violently I thought it might give me away.

Tears began to pour from my eyes, blurring the world as colors shifted and shadows receded. "Hush, Little One." Silver’s voice wrapped around my consciousness with a brush of soft fur. Fur that soothed the terror and dulled the pain. "I have you." Perception shifted until it looked like I was viewing the world from a distance. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t obey my commands. "You just rest. All will be well." Little by little, my body fought back the change. No. Silver fought back the change. She kept us human. She kept the others safe.