Whisper X Silver Novels & Stories

She picked up the silver flute and held it out to him, her eyes fixed on his with a terrifying intensity. 'Fight,' she signaled with a sharp tilt of her head. "I can't fight a King," Silas whispered, his orange eyes shimmering with a dark, twisted recognition. 'You are a Titan,' she gestured, pointing to the glowing silver lines on his skin. Silas snatched the instrument from her hand, the silver feeling unnaturally warm - almost alive. He looked at the pre-Veil etchings, the swirling lines that seemed to mimic the dark ink of the wolf tattoo on his own throat. He felt the frequency from the metal sink into his palms, meeting the silver lines on his flesh.

My books on his shelves. I picked up the silver bracelet he gave me on our second anniversary. “For my future Luna,” he had whispered. Future. I set the bracelet down carefully. Then I opened the wardrobe and pulled out a suitcase. Lyra stirred anxiously. Are we really leaving? “Yes,” I whispered. Because I refuse to stay where I am only almost chosen. Downstairs, I heard the distant rumble of a car entering the driveway. Rowan was home. For one fragile second, I hesitated.

My alpha presence crackled dangerously around us, making the lights in the treatment room flicker. "Enough," I stated flatly. "Don't even think about forcing her into the omega facilities." Whitney shifted her predatory gaze from Aria to me, her beta presence bristling with indignation. "Alpha Silverstone," she said, her voice rising with each word, "she made me drink silver water! She nearly drowned me!" She gestured wildly toward her throat where faint silver burns were still visible. "And you're defending this omega?!" she demanded, disbelief coloring her tone.

Jeremy’s intuition rarely proved wrong. And neither did Silver’s noises. The horse always made that same huffing sound when he’d found a new loyal subject from whom to demand attention. Silver was the worst kind of bleeding heart. Friend to all and foe to none, as long as they gave him the ample attention he thought he deserved. Apparently, even from a lost she-wolf.

“One way or another.” The vines began to smolder. Instead of smoke, they released a vapour—a shimmering silver mist that rose in twisting tendrils. It had a sweet, metallic smell that made my head ache instantly. “The Silver Mist does not kill,” Gorven explained coldly as the guard used a fan to direct the mist toward me. “It opens the nerves. It amplifies every sensation. Sound. Touch. Pain. It will make your own heartbeat sound like a drum. It will make a whisper feel like a scream. And then, we will ask our questions again.”

I would never accept that abomination as my mate! Silver’s wolf glares at me and growls, then looks beyond me as if something more interesting stands behind me. I have to duck so her wings don’t hit me in the head when she passes me and saunters over to Xillon. She whimpers, licks his cheeks and nuzzles his neck with her nose as she inhales deeply. Xillon’s stiff as a board with fear etching his features. He suddenly shifts into his massive grey wolf Xavier and they take off in a flash out of the dungeon’s exit.

"Valkyrie Two and Three, deploy Silvermist protocol. Blanket the target area." The other two drones swooped low over the ocean, their wings angling with impossible grace. They released a fine, shimmering mist from their dispersal pods, a glittering cloud that descended upon the churning water. The "Silvermist" was one of Katherine's more elegant and brutal inventions: an aerosolized silver nitrate compound, molecularly bound to a clinging agent. Harmless to humans, but agonizingly, flesh-meltingly corrosive to most supernatural creatures, especially werewolves and the magically summoned beasts they controlled.

Silver quickly lifted her face up to meet up to his gaze as his face was down to hers, staring intensely into her eyes. She gulped in nervously while her heart pounded in her chest at the thought of him been this close to her. "What do you want from me?". Silver asked in a whispering tone as his icy blue eyes has charmed her once again. "What do I want?". He asked, in a husky tone of a voice that sent shivers to run her spine. He outstretched his right hand towards her face. He curled his fingers and used the tip of his index finger to stroke her face while brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

The dagger hung suspended between us, a fragile balance between life and impending danger. Before she could gather her bearings, Krimson's voice sliced through the tense silence. "Silver, let her go." Silver's brows deepened. "I can't, Krimson. What are you doing here? How did you even find me?" Krimson's expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that belied the turmoil within. "That's not of primary concern here, Silver. Let her go." But Silver refused to yield. Instead, she unleashed a torrent of wraiths, dark and ethereal, from the depths of her magic. The wraiths swirled around them, their eerie presence suffusing the air with an ominous chill.