Aegon Targaryen Ii Novels & Stories

“You never did.” I swallowed the tightness in my throat and nodded once. “Then let’s pray he doesn’t fail.” Rhaegal didn’t answer. He only turned away again, already preparing the next move. And I stood there in silence, wondering which man would die first: the fool I was using...Or the one I was starting to care about. Rhaegal gestured toward a parcel on the table across the room. “Drink it. I wouldn't want anything to get between me and my betrothed,”

He sighed, "You lost your sanity, Nyra. You're a dead case. No one can save you. Not even yourself.” “Really? Let’s see about that then.” I replied. “Fine. Take your time talking, because after I get crowned, you’ll be disposed away like trash, and the first thing I’ll discard is your tongue-” Suddenly, I smelled my other brother, Brian, coming near. “Ceylan.” “Who dares to cut me off?” Ceylan yelled. Brian proceeded, not even quivering with fear, “The Ravager is nearing our territory.” Ravager? If I heard it right, that’s the growing rogues who have taken some territories in the north. Their target might be us…

Nate took off after securing me and holding me in place. That’s one thing that never waned. His strength and his prowess in a fight were next to none. I’d seen him sparring with Noah and actually holding his own. I considered the two of them on the same level as Aelia, who was an absolute beast. They named her the First Prince and the Rogue King for a reason. Her level of power was what I wanted to obtain. Aelia, at her full strength, was my goal.

They'd live to see peace again. The letter was dropped as Cesar hugged Drinks of Waterfall and Three Horses, so I took the opportunity and read it. Sarki Raye-Raye Da Wolves, Sarki Raye-Raye Da Wolves, I come to you with this treaty to be able to negotiate terms. I am Prince Titus Auerelis of Pateros. My mother is Queen Amelie Ophelia, and my wife, Princess Sera of the iron kingdom, Bellechester. Since this Vengeance War has

Angel answered and pointed to the two rogues behind him. “So you’re guess was right?” Arwel wondered but Angel shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure about the other rogues' reasons but these two were saying the truth.” Angel answered honestly his sister. “Alright, I’ll take them from here.” Arwel said and waved her hands to the two rogues to follow her. “I’m coming I wanted to see the corpses.” Angel said as he followed them. “Are you sure?” Arwel teasingly asked. “Who’s the best young medic here before?” Angel retorts while grinning with confidence.

Tarragon scoffed in an echo of my thoughts. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But a dragon’s strength lies in scale, fire, and wing.” “I am more than a dragon,” Tarragon replied defiantly. “I am half-human.” The argument was lost, and they parted to gather the knights and hunters together. Aien rose slowly to his feet, still holding a handful of seeds. “What is wrong, Daethie?” He asked me. “I could not understand what was said, but I can read your face, and you are…”

"And how am I to do that, if I go east as you counsel?" He ate an olive and spit out the pit into his palm. "I do not know, Your Grace," he admitted, "but I do know that the longer you remain in one place, the easier it will be for your enemies to find you. The name Targaryen still frightens them, so much so that they sent a man to murder you when they heard you were with child. What will they do when they learn of your dragons?"

He demanded of both parents. “What has come over you,or perhaps you've been over imbibing too much in mead?” He asked. I gave a soft gasp, realizing that he must be extremely angry, because Aegon (or at least the Aegon I used to know) loved his parents to the moon and back, and no matter how angry he was or how angry they made him themselves, he would never dream of raising his voice at them, not talk of insulting them like he just did.

I knew that only the Alpha blooded have red eyes, even in human form. Power oozed off him, making even Gideon move to the back of my mind. I bared my neck in respect, something I didn’t believe I would ever do. A laugh echoed through the room. “The god of war, bowing to a red wolf. Who would have thought.” A polite smile formed on my lips before I met the gaze of Andre. “I know you already met my father, Andre.” “Then you must be Aegon,” I said. He nodded before he gestured for me to take a seat. I did as he wanted, while my mind wandered about the fact that Andre doesn’t have red eyes.

“Convergence, bridge of realms, you seek the blade. Prove your worth, or perish.” My wings unfurl, lunar light flaring, but the construct’s gaze pierces me, and the forge shifts. I’m no longer in the citadel—I’m in a Conclave chamber, centuries ago, Elara’s lunar mark glowing, her voice pleading. “Don’t trust Taryn,” she says, her amber-silver eyes meeting Jorah’s. “His Veilbinder pact with Voren will doom us.” Jorah’s aura, primal and steady, falters as Taryn steps from the shadows, his blade striking Elara’s heart. She falls, silver blood pooling, and Jorah roars, claws slashing, but Taryn’s shadows overwhelm him. I scream, my claws slashing air, but it’s a vision, a memory, and the constr