William Afton Silver Eyes Novels & Stories

Xander looked at the screen. The young man in the footage was maybe twenty, possibly older — it was difficult to assess because his eyes made the age estimation complicated. Silver eyes, the full expression, without the ring-around-brown that Maya had. Just silver, straight through, the way ancient Silver Wolf bloodlines sometimes presented in full expression. He was looking directly into the camera with the directness of someone who was delivering a message and had thought about how to deliver it.

When i opened my eyes i looked down at the ground, i saw furry paws, my wolf form was finally complete, i knew i was going to be in another form of pain i looked at my fur, it was pretty cool looking, i was Silver, i wondered what color where my eyes, i mindlinked my mother, asking her what color were my eyes, and she told me, “Your eyes are Amber honey, your beautiful,” Nodded knowing it looked a little crazy with a wolf nodding its head, then suddenly i felt another kind of level of pain, i started shiting once again, my legs and arms breaking, my whole body was on fire, i thought i was going to be on fire it was burning so badly, what the hell is happening to me,

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He is tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of person whose whole professional life is written in his posture. Kind eyes. Wire-rimmed glasses. The specific calm of someone who has delivered difficult news often enough to have gotten very good at it. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3" "Americus." He stands and hugs me properly, which I allow even though Silver is watching and I have an image to maintain. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Then his eyes move to Silver. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> I watch them land on her and do the thing professional eyes do, the quick, thorough assessment that is not rude but is also completely impossible to hide if you know what you are looking at. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

The kitchen door hit the stone wall with a crack that sounded like a bone snapping. I stood in the center of the room, my hands still smelling of the onions I had peeled for a decade, watching the doorway. Ashford stood there. He wasn't the ghost I had seen in the North. He was the Alpha of Silver Ridge, his hair dark, his amber eyes burning with a clinical, focused cruelty. He wore the black leather of the Dorian, the hand that cuts. "Give her to me, Sira," Ashford said. His voice was a low, steady rumble that made the copper pots on the walls vibrate.

"I'm feeling a silver sensitivity now. That will cost you a day's hunting rights from your pay." I stared at him, utterly bewildered. Silver sensitivity? During my training, Edward had only mentioned Lucian's aversion to silver-contaminated wolves, not any personal sensitivity. "I apologize," I whispered, unsure what I had done wrong. His expression remained unreadable as we were summoned to meet William Hayes in the great hall of the lodge. The lodge was magnificent, crafted from ancient timber with huge windows overlooking the premium hunting grounds that made Silver Creek so desirable. William Hayes approached us, his powerful frame moving with surprising grace for such a dominant wolf. H

“Our son will carry your name so that your strength never dies, even long after us.” We sat in silence, the weight of it wrapping around us. Then my gaze drifted to the second girl, the quiet one, the one who watched the world with calm eyes even at this young age. She reminded me of something unspoken. Of a story Ryker had never told in full, but that lingered behind his silences. “The last girl,” I whispered. “She should be Afina. After your mother.”

God I hope not. ‘Hi’ he replied back with a cold voice. ‘Looks like I came at the wrong time, I’ll be seeing you Rosé’ Adam turned and walked away while I just stood there staring at his back. ‘You’re lucky’ I turned back to look at Aidan and saw that his eye color were pitch black. When his eyes switched from Adam retreating silhouette to mine he calmed down and his eyes turned back into the color we all know and love, but it still wasn’t the same.

He kept looking at me worriedly, but I ignored him and just kept walking. I wondered what Silver is doing or where he is, but I didn’t want to ask because it would make it seem suspicious. We got to the field and everyone was here. I looked around the field, looking for Silver. And I found him sitting alone on the bench. He must have noticed my presence or my stare. He raised his head up and our eyes met. I hope last night was just a bad dream, a nasty dream I made up in my head. I hoped he would look at me like he normally does, with love, admiration and fondness, but when our eyes met. He looked at me with pure, primal anger and rage. I could feel my heart sinking into a bottomless pit and

Michael said looking at Gage. “What did he look like?” Gage asked. “I don’t know, he had a hood on, and he wouldn’t remove it, he had dark red eyes.” She said shaking her head. “He scared me, he told me they were going to use a ritual to summon me and sacrifice me.” She said with tears rolling down her face. “Please Jade I don’t want to be here anymore, can't we go home?”

He stared at me much longer than he normally does, and I definitely felt that familiar heaviness of his gaze, like he was attempting to discern something I wasn’t going to reveal. My pulse quickened. "What's this?" I was just going to move when he gently knocked the flat side of the blade on my neck. I flinched slightly as the cold metal came in contact with my flesh. That’s when I felt it—a slight sting, the warmth where his knife had struck me. A hickey. My heart sank. My throat went dry, and I stood frozen, too shocked to move. My father's lips twitched slightly, not exactly a smile, but rather a "that's funny" look. "Cyrus," he repeated slowly, his tone low. "What's the setup here?"