Silver Hand の小説・ストーリー

I turned the word over in my mind. “A what?” I’d never heard of that word before. “A Silvery,” she repeated. “It’s a special silver weapon made by witches. They designed it to deal specifically with shifters. It’s full of dark magic and witchcraft.” “Witches?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “Yes,” Dagny nodded. “It’s not a common weapon, but it’s highly effective. Witches use SIlverys themselves to defend against shifters, like werewolves. But they’ll sell Silverys, too, for the right price.”

Nyra – First Person They bound me in silver as though I were something unholy. Perhaps I am. The chains were ceremonial—ancient links forged from purified moon-silver, etched with runes that glowed faintly as they brushed my skin. They wrapped around my wrists, my throat, my waist. Heavy. Cold. Final. Silver is meant to silence wolves. It burns. It poisons. It drags us to our knees and reminds us we are creatures of flesh and weakness.

He breathes next to my ear. I can smell the hot metal from here. The next minute I feel it searing pain on my skin by my lower back. I wail from the pain and my breath is gone. I see white. He then throws silver powder on my wound to prevent it from closing and healing. I scream louder it burns like hell, he just laughs at me. If it ever heals there will be a scar. I throw up from the pain and my tears are flowing down my face.

"I'm here to teach you to survive what's coming. Whether you keep your humanity or not... that's your choice to make." "Then teach me," Wendy said. "But don't try to make my choices for me." The marks on her skin pulsed brighter, and for a moment, her eyes flashed pure silver before returning to their normal hazel. Aria and Byrde exchanged a look over her head - worry mixed with something else. Fear, perhaps. Or recognition. "Very well," Aria said. "We'll do this your way. But remember - the silver power has its own will. And it's patient. It waited a hundred years for me to stop fighting it. It can wait for you too."

we heard Silver's crying voice and next second she hugged me tight, crying on my chest. Our eyes softly looked at her. I caressed her hair and her sobs slowly subsided. “Silver you go to your friends I need to talk to Aiden bro” Alex said in a firm tone. “Brother I kicked on his balls,” Silver said, making us chuckle. She knows self defense, it is more than kicking someone's balls. She looks cute and innocent but she is a Mafia's sister. What can you expect from her? Silver goes and stands with her friends. We turned again to Alex demanding answers.

Frowning, I glanced in the direction he was growling. There was a box. And a rose lying right next to it… What the---?! I grabbed the rose, but instantly let it go, feeling my skin sizzle. My heart dropped as I realized--- Silver! She had breathed in silver! Silver wasn't deadly for us. However, it did leave serious damage and scarring if it was ever used as a weapon. If it came into contact with our skin, it cut us off from our wolves and hindered the natural healing process, leaving us vulnerable for a while. The feeling was like fire, burning you like a bad allergic reaction...

One small exhale, barely visible, and something in him went quiet in a way that had nothing to do with peace. The gold left his eyes. Not gradually. It pulled back all at once, like a tide that came in too fast and overcorrected. Silver replaced it, cool and certain, and the man looking at me then was not the man who had taken that one step forward. This one had already made up his mind. I looked down at my hands. My nails had broken the skin on both palms. I had not felt it happen. Four small marks on each hand, barely bleeding, the kind you make when you hold on too hard to something that was never yours to hold onto.

⛏️ 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.