Through Silver In Blood Novels & Stories

“She is not my girlfriend. She is actually the wife of my rival, and we happen to have, well……identical goals.” “If you say so.” Silver grinned, his sharp fangs displaying themselves shamelessly. “So, the name Silver, where did you get it?” I asked, deliberately trying to steer his mind out of the conversation. It was not a particularly intimidating name for a thousand-year-old werewolf. “Ohhh, it's from a silver bullet, the bane of werewolves.” Silver! Silver was one element that werewolves loved and cherished. However, it was effortlessly the death of many werewolves. A single shot of a silver bullet could bring down a weak adult werewolf, and so it was highly regarded as a forbidden objec

I had to struggle to suppress a laugh. The Silver Myst was an urban legend, a pure silver wolf who showed up when things looked at their worst. He first appeared near four years ago, shortly after the war began, and has, supposedly, been seen numerous times since. It was always out of the corner of someone’s eye, or seen by a friend of a friend. Chris and the others were too old to believe in fairy tales.

Her body began to glow, and color returned to her pale cheeks. "Continue!" the crone shouted. "Don't stop!" I pushed the dagger deeper. More light streamed from my body. I felt myself emptying out, becoming a hollow shell. But it was worth it. If she could live, it was all worth it. The silver blade sank completely into my heart. The altar exploded with a blinding light, illuminating the entire hall like daylight. And then, everything went dark.

Lira (POV) I can feel the silver in my blood now. Not just burning—but grinding, like microscopic shrapnel chewing through my veins, slicing every time my heart dares to beat. It hisses against my bones and ignites my nerves like a fire, threading itself through my muscles like barbed wire soaked in acid.

Grayson’s reactions were more interesting. “How can the bullet not hurt you? You should be dead!” I shrugged carelessly and gave him the only answer. “Because I’m Vladimir’s childe. Silver has no effect on him, and by extension me.” His face morphed into something akin to shock. “What? Silver kills even the strongest of vamps. How the hell could silver not hurt Vladimir? Who the hell is he?” “You’re not the first to ask that question and I promise, you won’t be the last.”

"I'll tell you what comes after what you just read." Sarah immediately nodded, then told Sorin the translation of the Romanian Cyrillic Alphabet that she had read. "At a time when mortals and blood drinkers alike soar the skies, and wars are fought with fire, a blood drinker's silver blood will unite with the blood of its origin and the blood of its sworn enemy-the shape-shifter's. A child of the red, silver, and earth blood shall be born.”

Dad shakes his head. “What about silver dragons,” asks dad. “You said to read about the six different types of dragons,” says Owen. “I said there are six different types aside from the silver dragons,” dad says with an annoyed look on his face. “I guess I will have to cover that part for you. Listen up cause I’m only going to go over this once. Silver dragons are silver in color however, when the light shines on them they tend to shimmer a pastel rainbow color which makes them look exceptionally beautiful. They can control all the elements and they are the only dragons that are able to transform into humans and have the ability to teleport. This is due to the original silver dragon’s mother

she said softly as if she was crushed, defeated, and finally giving up the fight. Silver looked conflicted as he fought to make up his mind. He leaned towards her, the scent of her blood changing his eye color. Unable to resist, he doesn't think long before he bit into her neck and started gulping down her blood. His fangs in her veins hurt. 'Bloody bastard' she thought as the tip of her finger grasped at her dagger, she pulled it out swiftly while he was delirious with the taste of her blood and stabbed him through his chest. He jerked back as he let out a gasp of shock then he glanced down at the Aspen dagger sticking into his very soul. Fatimah pulled out the dagger, relishing in the spra

The silver lines had reached her jaw now, delicate patterns that looked almost decorative until you saw them pulse with power. Five and a half weeks until the blood moon. Five and a half weeks to free hundreds of enslaved wolves. Five and a half weeks to destroy a trafficking network decades in the making. The real war hadn't even started yet, and already the cost was higher than any of them had imagined. But now they knew what they were fighting for. Not just survival, but liberation. And Wendy would burn herself to silver ash before she let those children - now adults - remain slaves for one more day past the blood moon.

⛏️ Chapter Twelve: The Descent into the Silver Veins ​The air in the disused mine shaft hit us like a physical weight—damp, metallic, and cold. The familiar scent of earth and granite was overlaid with a strange, subtle hum that made the hairs on my arms rise. This was the source of the Silver Wolf Pack’s ancient magic—the ground itself was rich in trace lunar metal, a faint echo of the Shard's power. It was protection, but it was also a homing beacon.