Brandon Stark Game Of Thrones Novels & Stories

His own Alpha aura rolled around Theodore when Stark took charge. “Stop hurting her again and again. It hurts her when you look down at her just because she chose me. She cries silently because of your rude behavior toward her, and my heart bleeds every time when I see a tear in her eyes.” “I had thought that tonight… tonight everything will be alright between you two. That’s why I had planned a surprise for her, but I was so wrong. And after today’s incident, I will make sure that you two never see each other again if the result is going to be like this.” Brandon’s jaw tightened upon hearing this. Who the hell was he to decide that they would never see each other again?

Brandon’s voice sounded right next to my ear a second later, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “I…I’m n-not!” I cursed myself for stuttering as I turned around slowly to face him. Brandon was wearing a dark red t-shirt today, with its sleeves pulled up to his elbows. The V-neck in the front was low enough that I could easily see the lines of his collarbone and paired with a pair of black jeans, he embodied the bad-boy vibe that he was well known for.

"What's wrong with you, Brandon? What's your ability?" Bradon's gaze turned distant for a moment. He had never tried it in his past life because, before he could master it, he died. "I have dual abilities—control over wind and metal," he told Liam truthfully. "I discovered it when you were asleep last night at the pharmacy." Sensing Brandon's words seemed to be real, Liam couldn't help but feel awe and appreciation. He hesitated. "Can you show me?" he asked, almost whispering. "Your ability, I mean."

he said with a hint of evil surprise. Ignoring the pain, Darth shot back, "I won't be intimidated by your games, Brandon, You can't break me." Amused, Brandon leaned back in a chair, designed with a dark aura befitting his menacing presence. "You're entertaining, I'll give you that," he said. "Sick devil" Darth fumed A sinister smile played on Brandon's lips as he asked pretentiously, "Well, back to your question, remind me, what exactly did I do again?"

Brandon pushed himself up, wiping the blood from his nose, trying to regain some show of dignity. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he forced himself to speak, trying hard not to show any form of weakness. “You think you can just do this to me?” he spat, his voice shaky but defiant. “You can’t just kidnap me. I’m a Smith! My family has connections—” Boom! Sebastian’s men wasted no time as another landed a hefty blow to his stomach. Brandon landed on his back with a thud, the air knocked out of him.

Neither of us could believe it. Brandon was an Alpha, soon to succeed his father's throne after graduation. Wealthy, desired by many, and a known playboy, I knew I wasn't his type of girl, not to mention the future Luna. "Bloody shit! What sort of stupid fate is this? You, of all people? A rut like you? Naïve, dresses worse than a nerd, dirty, weak, and barely able to speak for yourself? I'd rather die than accept you!" he roared, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Brandon was right, you’re not dating his sister unless you’re afraid.” “I’m not afraid. He’s a puny little boy.” Bran puffed his chest and removed his shirt. All the work at the stables and the farm helped his muscles fill out, and as he tapped into his werewolf, that connection helped shape his body. “You call me a puny little boy?” Gran smiled secretly while she washed the vegetables in the sink. “Here, touch my muscle and tell me I’m not a man.” Marina’s cheeks grew red when Brandon grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest.

************************************************** Suddenly, the manor’s alarm pierced the quiet. A shrill, mechanical scream. Red lights filled the corridors. Sergio’s phone buzzed. He picked it up and answered after listening for a while. “Where?” Marco’s voice crackled through the speaker. “West wing breach. There’s a symbol carved into the wall.” "Which family?" Sergio demanded angrily. "De Rossi, sir. I think the groom finally grew some courage." Rosana’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the man she had almost married. So he hadn't given up?

Brandon has appeared out of nowhere; he’s standing just behind Gideon with Low and he’s watching me like I’m some kind of fascinating show. “Ghost has no pups, no mate and his momma has two other sons. He’s also not interested in you in the slightest other than your skills at killing; you need backup, and he’s who you get.” Brandon says as he crosses his arms over his chest. Gideon nods along with what he’s saying so I know I don’t have room to argue.

The perimeter was held, but the tension hanging over the keep was thick enough to cut through it. I found Brandon standing alone at the edge of the parapet, his broad arms resting on the cold stone, staring out toward the dark, jagged silhouette of the Northern Ridge. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle twitched under his skin, his leather breastplate scarred from years of holding my front line. The sound of my boots on the gravel floor could be heard because I wasn't trying to mask an attack to an enemy, as I walked towards him. Brandon didn't look back, but his shoulders squared just a fraction, his wolf instantly recognizing my presence.