Romans & histoires Silver Ocean

Devon straightened beside me. Silver is extremely harmful for werewolves, especially if injected into their bloodstream, it burns the blood vessels and causes a meltdown of internal organs. The brain stops functioning and renders the wolf incapable to breathe, arteries collapse and the heart shrinks if it survives the burns. Silver is a well known weakness of the wolves and is often used against them. ​It is banned in all the realms except the human realm. "And you're telling me now?" I asked, scowling at the Ulfric.

Which I feel is working because of how I see Silver's Viens appears through his skin. .................................. To be continued

Leonard extended her hand towards Samantha who immediately cut her palm to draw blood. Her eyes widened when she saw Samantha do the same with Leonard's palm. But she was sure that Samantha gave a small cut on his palm and for a man like Leonard, that mere cut was nothing. "Good...." Samantha whispered and take the silver knife towards Jonathan who was chanting something incoherently. Their blood was mixed and all she could see was some witchcraft that she had never believed to have existed. "Now....." Jonathan turned his attention towards Iris who was still crying and Leonard who standing like a proud beast.

Every mile away from Moonveil, the pressure intensified until breathing felt like a defiant act. And then we were there. The lake has never looked like this. Silver Lake lies cradled between blackened pines and jagged stone, its surface unnaturally still beneath the blood moon. The water reflects the sky too perfectly, as though the moon has doubled itself—one above, one below—trapping me between twin omens. The air hums. Not with wind, but with recognition. Every step toward the shoreline sends a tremor through my bones. My skin burns, then chills, then burns again, as if something beneath it is trying to remember how it once existed. The lifebond pulses wildly, no longer a thread but a cha

Two days before the ceremony, Karl returned home. He acted as if Natalie had never appeared, as if our confrontation had been a dream. "Stop looking at your phone and try on the ceremonial pendant," he said, holding out an engraved silver pendant meant to be worn during our mating run. I opened the box, glanced at it briefly, then closed it without removing the necklace. "If it's suitable, take it." Karl frowned at my dismissive attitude. "There's nothing between Natalie and me. Can you stop being so hostile toward a young Omega who's lost everything?"

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.

He leaned very close, his warm breath brushing against my ear, sending a slight tickle through me. I turned my head, meeting his deep gaze. At that moment, time seemed to stand still, freezing everything into eternity. “Happy Winter Solstice Festival, Xaibe.” He leaned in close to my ear, murmuring softly, “On the next full moon night, let us go to the Moon Goddess to mark our bond.” Outside the window, the aurora continued its dance across the night sky, its brilliant colors reflecting upon my face and onto Xaibe's face. Catching each other's scent, we held one another in a tight embrace.

She brought her right hand upward, her silver tipped claws opening wide, and drove her palm directly into the steel grate of the catwalk beneath her boots. She didn't force her energy into the machine. She forced it into the mountain. The silver quicksilver poured through the iron floor plates, heading straight down into the bubbling black lava pool below the engine. The volcanic vent didn't explode; it froze. A single wave of pure, crystalline silver frost began to spread from the base of the catwalk across the surface of the churning magma, turning the boiling black rock into a solid sheet of sapphire-blue ice in a single, silent second.