Trophy Line Onyx Novels & Stories

For a moment, no one spoke. It was beautiful. That was the worst part. The fabric was pale silver-white, heavy enough to fall in formal lines and expensive enough to shame anyone who complained about it. Black embroidery climbed the bodice in sharp, elegant patterns that belonged unmistakably to the Stormhaven line: wolves, thorned branches, crescent blades, and old mountain symbols stitched with such precision that the gown looked less sewn than carved. Moon-silver thread caught the light around the collar. Tiny black stones trimmed the cuffs.

He probably thought a tour of my past glories would make me sentimental. Make me change my mind and accept his ridiculous “sharing” proposal. A flicker of triumph flashed in Calista’s eyes. I stepped into the Hall of Glory. It was just as I remembered. The stone walls were lined with the trophies of my kills—beasts I had hunted to protect the pack: the skull of a giant bear, the talons of a wyvern, the stinger from a chimera's tail… Each one represented a battle I had barely survived. Moonlight spilled through the high windows, painting the grim trophies in shades of silver and black.

They all back away while going to their knees and bear their necks. “I am so sorry for using my command, it is something I wish not to use, but Onyx is very tiny and needs time to develop a better immune system. I will allow you all to see him from a distance. Please allow me room to get him from the car. Then join me in the backyard for the viewing ceremony.” I knew everyone would want to meet Onyx, but I needed to do this on my terms not the packs. I had arranged a ceremony where I would have a camera facing the platform and it would be projected on multiple screens for the pack to see.

Jace said his voice was short and snappy. Nora sighed, opening the bag and then grabbing the box. She paused a minute trying to find a way out of opening it. Jace made another noise as she was just staring at the black box. She sighed and opened the box. Inside the box layed a small black onyx necklace. It was a simple square onyx stone that hung on a silver chain and was very beautiful. “What? I can't take this. Why would you- “Black onyx can disguise hunters from wolves. Put it on.” Jace ordered as he cut her off.

she explained to Hunter. Hunter gasped faintly. “So did you hide it? Where did you put it?” He searched her with his eyes, looking for ay bumps that may have been under her clothes poking out. But found none really. “When I—when I found it, it got very warm and absorbed into my skin. Then a mark, no, a tattoo appeared on the wrist area and it said: "The Bronze Stone.”” Hunter scoffed to himself in a low tone, baffled that Lin, an ordinary she-wolf, had found something that qualified warriors who had trained all their lives, could not even lay an eye on.

I’d had plenty of practice and time to get good with using my hands, stealing away the little trinkets Cliff held dear, blackmailing him to back off the girls. Perhaps it could work here too. With Vincent distracted, his gaze on me, I delicately slipped my fingers into his pocket. “Do you trust me?” asked Vincent. I nodded, lying. Satisfied, Vincent released me and stepped away, leaving me with the object I’d stolen off of him. He’d spent the entire lecture fumbling with the thing in pocket, and now I knew why. The crest was a block of onyx stone, the faces of several wolves carved into the dark surface. The name Voss was inscribed on the bottom, surrounded by the twist of a rose vine.

Tasha kind of liked that. Coming to stand in front of Tasha, Onyx fought back the urge to reach out, drag her to him, and take what was his. The need emanating from her wasn’t helping. Spotting his gift at her station, he grinned. “So it came.” Humor danced in her eyes, making his grin widen.

It clatters across the stone floor . He grabs my wrists to stop me , and golden lightning explodes again , brighter, hotter, searing . We both cry out. The pain drops us to our knees , foreheads pressed together, gasping . “What is this ?” I sob. “I don’t know,” he groans. “But it’s burning.” “Look,” I breathe. Golden lines crawl up both our left wrists, twisting, glowing, forming perfect matching cuffs that sink into our skin like brands. I try to pull away. Can’t. The marks pulse like heartbeats.

"Guardian of the Sacred Silver Lineage... I feared immensely that I would arrive far too late to find you." Leo's eyes narrowed into sharp silver slits, a low, echoing rumble vibrating in his throat. "You know my true name, old man?" Orion smiled softly, his eyes misting over. "I have known your name... for significantly longer than these castle walls or these kingdoms have stood." The entire throne room fell into a deathly, suffocating silence. Slowly, Orion reached deep inside his faded cloak. He withdrew an ancient, heavy parchment scroll that was securely sealed with thick silver wax. The silver seal bore the exact same symbol hanging around his neck—the wolf beneath the seven stars.

The craftsmanship was exquisite, clearly custom made. "Owen, this is beautiful," I breathed, touching the stones gently. "When did you have time to commission this?" "I have been working on it for the past month with help from the bloodline representatives. Each stone came from their families, pieces of their heritage that they wanted you to have. The silver is from my pack's territory, forged by our best metalworker. It is meant to remind you that you are not alone in this, that seven bloodlines and dozens of packs stand with you."