Silver's Immortal Reign

Rogues at the Gate

Chapter Six:

Silver’s POV

The walls were thin.

I could hear the pipes groaning every time someone upstairs flushed a toilet.

The heater rattled like it was dying.

The window didn’t lock properly.

But it was mine.

The first place I could call my own since... ever.

A tiny, crumbling studio apartment above a pawn shop, smelling faintly of burnt coffee and old smoke.

But the rent was cheap, and the landlord didn’t ask questions.

Better than another night curled up on a bench at the park, pretending the cold didn’t bite.

I dropped my backpack on the floor with a heavy thud and stared at the peeling paint on the walls.

Alone.

Safe.

I should have felt relief.

Instead, all I felt was empty.

Later, I stood under the weak spray of the shower, scrubbing at my skin like I could wash the memories off.

The Brotherhood.

Alica.

Ryelle.

The mysterious man in the shadows I sometimes thought I saw but never could prove.

And now...

him.

Kieran.

I leaned my forehead against the cracked tile, breathing hard.

His name was dangerous inside my mind.

Kieran Blackwood.

Kieran's POV

I felt the rogues before I saw them.

The woods pulsed with their hunger — sharp, filthy magic rippling through the trees.

Beside me, Silver staggered upright, fists clenched, chest heaving.

She was scared — not of the rogues, but of herself.

I could smell it.

The way her magic sparked wild and raw around her — a barely-contained explosion.

"Stay behind me," I said low, falling into a defensive stance.

But she didn’t move.

She didn’t run.

She didn’t even flinch.

She lifted her chin — stubborn, defiant — even as her body trembled.

And then they came.

Three rogues at first — dirty, feral wolves with eyes glazed over by bloodlust — crashing through the underbrush.

I shifted without hesitation.

The familiar snap of bone and muscle, the fire racing down my spine —

and then my wolf was free.

Massive.

Powerful.

Faster than any of them.

I slammed into the first rogue, teeth sinking into his shoulder, ripping him away from Silver before he could touch her.

Another rogue lunged from the side —

but before I could turn —

Silver moved.

Not just moved.

Exploded.

Silver light blasted out from her, a shockwave so powerful it flattened the trees in a wide circle around us.

The second rogue hit the ground hard, yelping — completely stunned — smoke rising from his singed fur.

My paws skidded in the dirt.

I jerked my head around to stare at her.

Silver stood at the center of the devastation —

hair flying, eyes glowing like molten violet stars, her skin lit up from inside like she was made of moonfire.

She wasn't just a wolf.

She wasn't just a healer.

She was something else.

Something bigger.

Something ancient.

The third rogue hesitated, whining, before stupidly launching himself toward her.

I roared, racing forward —

but Silver lifted her hand calmly.

The rogue froze midair.

Frozen.

Literally.

Solid ice crept up his body, locking him in place, his eyes wide with terror.

Silver exhaled slowly, lowering her hand — and the rogue shattered like glass, pieces scattering across the ground.

I shifted back instantly, the world spinning for a second, my human form landing hard in the dirt.

"Silver," I gasped, staring at her, completely blown away.

She stumbled — the magic draining from her too fast — and I caught her before she hit the ground.

"You..." I tried to speak, but the words tangled in my throat.

She wasn’t just strong.

She was unstoppable.

She blinked up at me, eyes wide and scared — like she didn’t even know what she'd just done.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, voice cracking.

"Don't be," I said fiercely, tucking her against my chest, shielding her body with mine.

"You’re perfect."

Even as I said it, part of me knew —

whatever Silver was...

whatever she was becoming...

The world wasn’t ready for her.

But I was.

I’d make sure of it.

Even if it killed me.

The boy with the blue eyes and the gravity that pulled me toward him even when every survival instinct I had screamed to run.

Every night since that dream...

I’d felt him.

Soft, like a hum under my skin.

Gentle.

Persistent.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to tear it out of me.

I wanted to forget.

Because wanting anything —

needing anyone —

had only ever ended one way for me.

Abandonment.

Pain.

Betrayal.

I wasn’t stupid.

Love wasn’t for people like me.

It was a weapon. A trap.

And yet...

some traitorous part of me wondered...

What if it was different this time?

What if Kieran didn’t want to hurt me?

The thought terrified me more than any of Alica’s threats.

A Week Later — Local College Campus

I signed up for classes mostly because it gave me a reason to exist.

No one looked too closely at a tired college student carrying a second-hand backpack and a half-broken laptop.

No one asked questions.

Perfect.

I kept my head down, my hoodie up, my earbuds jammed in my ears even when I wasn’t playing music.

Invisible.

Untouchable.

Until the third day of classes.

Until him.

I came around the corner of the library, clutching a stack of borrowed textbooks to my chest —

and slammed straight into a wall of muscle and heat.

Books flew.

I stumbled back, muttering an apology, eyes glued to the floor.

"Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t—"

A hand caught my arm — firm but gentle.

"Silver."

The way he said my name —

like a secret.

Like a prayer.

Like it meant something.

I froze.

Slowly, against every screaming instinct, I lifted my eyes.

Kieran stood there, his blue gaze locked onto mine with a kind of fierce gentleness that made my knees threaten to buckle.

No hoodie, no armor, no escape.

Just him.

And me.

And the truth I had been running from since the night we met.

He didn’t let go.

Not rough, not possessive —

but like he was anchoring me to the earth so I wouldn’t blow away.

"You don’t have to run anymore," he said softly.

My throat closed up.

"I’m not ready," I whispered.

He smiled — slow, sad, understanding.

"That’s okay. I’ll wait."

The worst part?

Some tiny, desperate part of me believed him.

And that terrified me more than anything else in the world.

Silver's POV

I felt him the second we touched.

Sparks danced beneath his fingertips, crackling across my skin where he gripped my arm.

Tiny explosions of something wild and electric and alive.

And I loved it.

Gods help me, I loved it.

It was like a shameful secret — something you bury deep, terrified that if you say it out loud, it might become real.

I stared up at him — Kieran Blackwood, the alpha boy from my dreams, the one my instincts had clung to like a drowning girl that day six months ago.

Something I had never done before.

I had always saved myself.

Always.

But that day...

I wanted it to be him.

No —

I needed it to be him.

I locked my eyes onto his gorgeous, stupidly perfect face, swallowed the lump rising in my throat —

and lied.

"I’m not running," I said stiffly. "And I’m not ready for whatever this is."

Which wasn’t the truth.

Not even close.

Classic me — walls up first, regrets later.

Kieran’s expression didn’t change much, but something in his eyes flickered — like he could see straight through my bullshit and into the terrified, aching mess underneath.

"I’ve been looking for you," he said quietly. "And now that you're here... I can’t let you go until you come somewhere with me."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

"No," I gasped, shaking my head. "I can’t—"

Suddenly, the world tilted.

A wave of dizziness crushed me.

I gasped again, vision swimming — and in the whirl of nausea and fear, I saw it —

a flash of a man, cloaked in Brotherhood black, a silencer aimed directly at the back of my skull.

I stumbled.

Kieran caught me instantly, hands steady on my waist.

"Silver? What’s wrong?"

Before I could even form the words — before I could even think —

I blinked.

And dragged him with me.

The Woods — Seconds Later

We landed hard, tangled together, dirt and leaves scraping our hands.

I gasped for air, disoriented.

Kieran crouched beside me, already scanning the shadows, his body tense and ready.

Around us, the woods stretched wide and empty —

but not for long.

Low, guttural growls rumbled through the trees.

A chorus of hunger and hate.

Kieran stiffened, his muscles rippling under his jacket.

"Rogues," he growled, dropping into a defensive stance, his eyes flashing that brilliant, dangerous gold.

And just like that —

I realized two things at once:

One —

I had accidentally transported us straight into a rogue hunting ground.

And two —

I wasn’t just running from the Brotherhood anymore.

I was dragging Kieran into my nightmare, too.