Bjorn Lothbrok Novels & Stories

I said it before, he was the male version of Medusa. I swiveled on the balls of my feet, instantly meeting Gunnar's green-brown eyes. They were more brown with blotches of green swirling through the irises this morning and they were hooded with days worth of exhaustion. Thick stubble coated his jaw, framing the impeccable slice of it. His chocolate brown locks were snarled in every direction; tufts sticking out and begging for me to run my fingers through. I fisted my hands, quickly shaking the thought out of my head.

The King of Nordmar said. The Paladins looked at Rhobart. “And who are you?” Droyn asked. He had never heard Rhobart being so serious before. “Rhobart Braveheart, last of my name!” the King of Nordmar said. His voice echoed between the forgotten tombs. “The shield and the sword of Ayla!” Eude looked around. “Are there mushrooms around here we haven’t seen?” “Why? You want to make more sweet-wine?” Rhobart asked.

the two men shook hands, followed by Killian and Malik's mother before Diana came over to shake hands too. "Likewise. I am Hrothgar. This is my wife, Bryndis" The man was curt. Just like how Malik was in the beginning. Bryndis, on the other hand, was beaming from ear to ear as she pulled the White couple in for a hug despite the previous handshake. "Please don't mind my husband, he's always so on edge when we enter new surroundings", Bryndis explained "We've been waiting for this day with bated breath. I can't believe it's finally here - our boy meeting his fated partner. What a blessing", she said, eyes brimming with emotion.

My home burned behind us, but my spirit refused to break. Three figures stood out among the crew, their presence commanding the very air around them. Jarl Ragnar Bloodaxe, the leader, was a giant of a man with braided blond hair, a beard woven with silver rings, and eyes the color of storm-tossed seas. His muscular frame, covered in furs and leather, bore the scars of countless battles. Beside him stood his brother, Thorsten the Stormcaller, leaner but no less imposing, with wild red hair and tattoos of ravens covering his arms—marks of his connection to the gods. And then there was young Bjorn Ironfist, the jarl’s closest shield-brother, with sharp features, dark hair, and a body honed like

In a large, brilliant neon advertisement, the representative face of Romance Homie was Henry Jackie, a top model. Henry has long, narrow eyelids, a sharp slant, pale skin, and looks as if this fashion brand was born for him. The shirt has narrow, horseshoe-shaped sleeves, tight against the slender body, and a long tie embroidered with a honey bee, the symbol of Napoleon's power. From a distance, Henry Jackie looked like a vampire duke, his beauty filled with a sense of illness. "What a witty Vampire Duke of the East!" In Henry Jackie's first year on tour in Milan, one photographer commented.

He says gazing at me intensely. "What do you mean? Aren't you listening to me?" I ask him. "Trust me Morgana. Once you get your wolf, I'm the only one you'll be able to think about. This human boyfriend of yours won't even matter." He says firmly. "His name is Charles. Besides, we can always break the mate bond right?" I state "OUT OF THE QUESTION!" He says with a growl, his voice sounding authoritative and a shiver runs down my spine.

Lochness replies. "Wait, you know him?" Ellie questions in surprise. "Back when I worked closely with king Sindre, Sixten and I were friends. Is this your first encounter with him?" Lochness asks. Ellie tenses beside me, drawing in a shaky breath. "No, I first met him eight summers ago shortly after Fafnir's death. He came to the horde to discuss something with Valdis, but I am unsure of what," Ellie replies. "Eleonora, you are young, and I am sure all of this must be happening very fast, but I must tell you I cannot fight in this war," Lochness states firmly.

Just feeling the caffeine enter my body was good enough. "Feeling better?" Hunt asked, leaning forward and drinking from his own mug. I nodded and then got down to finishing the rest of my sandwich and coffee. When I was done, I felt warm inside and happy too. It'd been long since I'd felt either of those things. "We'll be moving the traps further into the woods this year," a burly man in a red and black plaid shirt said as he walked into the store with a rifle in his large hand. He wore a dirty brown cap over his head with thin strands of dark hair sticking out front underneath. There was something about him that reeked of danger. I could smell it all over him along with the strong stench o

Draco shared a look with me and I huff to inform them all seriousness of this situation but then suddenly my gaze caught something attention, I saw a big old portrait of a noble man painted as, man in portrait looked almost in late 40s. I went closer and took good look at portrait, under shallow light I could see his clear face, it than hit me that he was the same man whose ghost I saw in alive body of King Erlenduris in royal castle. “Who… who is he..?” I questioned solider Martin, he looked at me like dumb but then replied with pride in his eyes “He is our late king… JAMERIAN BORG” “Ohh…..nooooo…..” was only expressive I could mutter.

REVELATION If you are reading this you must be of age already, blossoming into womanhood, and I'm sorry to say this but, your father and I are most likely dead. I know you have so many questions about yourself and your true family. But before I begin I want you to know that your father and I really love you and we did what we did to protect you. You will understand it all very soon. You are Zia Lothbrok, born on the ninth day in July to Abel and Celeste Lothbrok. You have no siblings. You are a fae or fairy, anyone you'd wish to call it. I'm sure you must have grown up believing these things do not exist. But they do. It's who you are.