Silver's Immortal Reign

Chapter One: Silver’s POV For as long as I can remember, I lived a lonely life—and I was okay with that. In fact, I had gotten used to it. No loving mother to tuck me in at night. No caring father to kiss my bruises when I fell. I had come to terms with it all... so why couldn’t I turn away this time? "Please, Silver, I need you to go." That one hit me like a ton of bricks. She was kicking me out. Fine. I didn’t need her. I never needed her. She was the one who came to me—no, begged me—to live with her, to teach her precious son Ryelle how to defend himself in battle, how to survive on his own. That was my thing. The only thing I was good at: surviving. I taught myself at four years old after my mother dumped me in the human world and left me to fend for myself against anything and everything — human trouble, supernatural trouble, you name it. By eight, I was done with the human foster system. I ran. Found myself in no man's land. Surviving. "So how do I know I'm not human?" Great question. "What am I?" Even greater question. "You’re a freak, and I don’t want whatever you are around my son!" Alica’s shrill voice ripped me out of my thoughts. "Alica... I can explain," I said desperately as she shoved me toward the door. "I don't want to hear your lies, girl. Get your stuff and get out at once!" She hurled a pile of my clothes at me. I barely dodged them, blinking up to see Ryelle grinning like he’d just won the lottery. I scrambled to gather my things, fighting the sting in my eyes. Damn it. Why did it feel like I was losing everything? "I don't have anywhere else to go," I whispered, barely able to get the words out. Alica sneered, her face twisted with disgust. "I don’t give a s**t, Silver. Go sleep under a bridge for all I care." I shifted my gaze to Ryelle, who was silently laughing and mouthing at me, "Told you I'd get rid of you, bitch." He dragged his finger under his left eye and stuck out his tongue. Lovely. Real mature. How old are you, five? No. Ryelle was one year older than me. And a total mama’s boy. Lazy, spiteful, and useless. At 5'4", with dark brown hair, hazel-green eyes, acne, and barely a scrap of muscle, he was as scrawny as he was arrogant. As for Mrs. Hunt—Alica—she was tall and bony, with long, skeletal fingers, light brown hair, and cold hazel eyes that saw right through you... if they bothered to see you at all. And now? Now they didn’t see me at all. "Why are you doing this, Alica... Mrs. Hunt?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Don't play innocent with me, Silver," she snapped. "When I invited you here, it was to teach Ryelle — not to try and seduce my husband and w***e yourself out to my son!" And there it was... Was any of it true? No. But I knew exactly how it got in her head. Oh well. Nothing I said now would matter. I doubted she would believe the truth even if it stopped by just to say hello. I bowed my head, arms wrapping around myself, taking on the full weight of the defeat. "Fine," I said, voice barely a whisper. "I'll go... but—" The door slammed in my face before I could even finish. I looked around. Damn it. She still had my cellphone, my car keys, everything I needed to leave. I was going to have to wait until everyone went to sleep and sneak back inside. Later that night... It was almost 10:00 PM now. The sun had long set, and I was hiding behind the big oak tree in the backyard, watching the house. Ms. Hunt’s bedroom light finally clicked off. I sniffed the air cautiously, almost like a wolf... But I wasn’t a wolf. At least, I didn’t think so. I remembered how I said I wasn’t human. Well, that's the only thing I knew for sure. I felt different. And for a long time, I thought maybe, maybe I was a werewolf. I used to live with a werewolf family — the Robinsons. They took me in when I was little. But when I turned twelve and still hadn’t heard my wolf, like their kids had, they turned on me. "Silver, we’re sorry," Mr. Robinson said, not meeting my eyes. "But we can’t have a wolfless human girl living among our pups. Don’t worry—you won’t remember us, or what we are." That night, they brought in a witch to wipe my memories. It almost worked. Almost. But just before social services came to pick me up, something snapped back into place inside my mind. I remembered. I remembered everything. And just like that... Another family discarded me. Just like the Robinsons. Just like my mother. Thrown away like trash. At 5'6", I stand tall — slender, toned, and strong. Muscle carved into all the right places from years of training myself like I was preparing for war. People call me an enigma. I have all the features of a typical she-wolf — beautiful, fierce, silver-haired. But then there are my eyes: deep violet. And my body? Let’s just say I’m not part of the itty bitty committee — curves exactly where they should be, sharp enough to draw blood. I slink from beneath the oak tree, my bare feet silent against the ground. With a smooth round-off, I launch myself across the dark yard toward the back door. The spare key is hidden in the fake rock by the step. I pop it open, slip inside, and head for the guest room — my old room. That’s when I hear voices. I freeze behind the kitchen door. "What the hell, Ronnie?!" Ms. Hunt’s voice is sharp, furious. "Why didn’t you tell me I had a ticking time bomb living in my house? She’s the destroyer of worlds — the one I tried to get rid of all those years ago!" Destroyer of worlds? My blood runs cold. "f**k that, Mom." Ryelle’s voice now, full of venom. "I can’t believe that little b***h is my half-sister. And why couldn't she tell what we were?" "Because I put up the magical chimes around the house," Ms. Hunt snapped. "No one — not even the most powerful — can break through those spells." "Are we... traitors, Mom?" Ryelle’s voice wavers. "Why would you ask me that?" Ms. Hunt's tone turns ice-cold. "Because we turned against our own. You know it." He made a rough gesture with his hands — and in my panic, I stumbled back, knocking over a glass on the counter. CRASH. Their heads whip around. "Who's there?" Ms. Hunt hisses. "Dave? Is that you?" "Is Dad home early?" Ryelle asks, confused. Ms. Hunt grabs Ryelle's arm, urgency flooding her voice. "He must know — get the potion, Ryelle!" Her phone buzzes on the table. She snatches it up, reading the screen. "Damn... the Brotherhood sent a new kill order," she says, cold as death. "Who is it this time?" Ryelle asks, almost eagerly. Ms. Hunt turns, her hazel eyes glinting with malice. "Silver." I gasp. Their heads snap toward me — and in that heartbeat, I know: They’re going to kill me.