Aerys Targaryen Novels & Stories

I stepped toward the center of the room. "I am Sargis Arevik of House Sargsyan. Son of Malthor and Avaline. Last-born heir of the Line. I have fought in your wars. I have bled for your cities. I have returned from death itself, and I will not be questioned in my own court by men too afraid to see the enemy standing at our gates." Tyrus's eyes glittered. "Now that sounds like a king."

Alanna lay sprawled across the floor, drenched in blood and utterly ruined. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest, I would have thought she was dead. “Lewis…” she whispered weakly. I felt a flicker of surprise at hearing her voice and turned toward her. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked in my direction. I had always treated her as my cherished jewel, never lifting a finger to harm her. In the past, seeing her in such a pitiful state would have filled me with heartache and rage, ready to avenge her.

And in the middle, on a stone bridge that spanned the torrent, stood Leigh’s father. Lord Valerius was a tall, lean man like a hardened sapling. He wore no armor, only a worn leather jerkin over a grey tunic. His hair was more silver than black, tied back. He held no weapon. He stood alone on the bridge, facing Gryffen’s army, a solitary figure of calm authority.

"But you leave her out of it. You leave both of them out of it. Zariah's done fighting my wars, and I'm done letting her. This one's just ours. Brother to brother." "You sure?" Darius said, and there was something careful in it, something that knew exactly what it was watching happen, the King of Atlanta standing at a window handing off the next war so that a woman could sleep. "This could be nothing. Could be somebody settling a grudge. Or it could be the front end of something a lot bigger than Crowe, and if it is, you're gonna wish you'd taken it yourself."

~Edgar~ Lucien vale was like a cancer eating deep into my bones. He had to be removed. If entertained for longer, things won’t end well for me. For a long time now, I have managed to keep Arya grounded. She was weak and gullible, easy to manipulate. It was hard to admit, but I noticed she had her moments too. Sometimes, she’d put her foot down about certain things and act like a femme fatale, dismissing even me, but that was all lucien.

If Cayden and I had just stopped in to say hi, she would have come and given me a hug, but much like my father, she differentiates between her daughter Scarlett and her Alpha Scarlett. “Alpha Scarlett, Beta Cayden. Is everything okay?” She asks, her big green eyes wide with concern and her chocolate brown hair still slightly damp from a shower. It’s like looking into a mirror and seeing my future self. And I’ll tell you, I could do a lot worse. My mother still turns heads and is still a beast on the sparring fields. I’ve never seen her in an actual battle, but I have no doubt she can still kickass.

Azael is frowning and I feel him press my hand, something is not right. -Hey- I say catching his face. Right away I notice how he relaxes the muscles.- What happens? -I do not like this. Everything is going too well. he says looking around. I prefer not to, as they are not very pleasant views. -And what's wrong? -That we're talking about Harrison Tucson. The same one who murdered my mother. The same one who tried to kill his daughter. My father's rival, whom he also killed. The one that appears to have survived a fire. I just don't believe we caught him off guard.

Personality description: cautious, Charming, reliable, discreet, observant, precise, rational, encouraging. Family: Leon Evans (father), Julia Stuart (Mother), Chase Evans (twin brother), Emily Evans (adoptive older sister), Dhario Evans (grandfather), Olivia Evans (step-grandmother), James Evans (uncle) Friends: Reggie Stevens (Beta, best friend), Danica Green (Girlfriend), Edgar Brown (friend), Isabella Frome (friend). Arya Silver Age: 17 Race: Werewolf Rank: Rogue Physical description: 5’7ft tall, hourglass athletic body, long straight black hair, round brown eyes, heart-shaped face, pointy nose with heart-shaped full lips.

I had never seen so many rogues together in such a well-organized camp. He invited me to his tent and offered me something to dress, eat, and drink. I accepted and sat at the table with him and his right-hand man. - Who are you? - I asked. - I'm the true heir of the Lycon Moon Pack. Jack, the father of the current alpha, killed my father when I was very young and threw me out. I swore I'd come back for revenge. Twelve years ago, I tried to win back Lycon Moon with the help of all these wronged rogues, but we were defeated. They are so cruel that, when they saw that one of the warriors identified me as the true alfa, they killed her. I think her name was Mary.

Ragnar and Jorge, the two Dark Progenitors, had dealt a devastating blow to the Cathedral's army. The first casualty was Lysander, who fell right there on the battlefield. This nearly shattered Arya's composure as she pursued Andrew. She had always thought of Lysander as her little brother, after all. Besides, as a fellow angel of the Cathedral, she had always been respected and adored by the angels beneath her as their big sister. But now, he was gone. Arya became like an enraged bulldozer, charging in and out of the Dark Army relentlessly. Her frenzied slaughter drew constant roars of fury from the two Dark Progenitors.