Daemon Targaryen Night King Novels & Stories

The dark king turned around, calmly counting the guards before letting out an amused chuckle. “There’s one missing,” Ragnar said, his tone dripping with dark amusement. Immediately, the wall of men cleared a path. I knew he was there before I even saw him. The air suddenly turned cold. It was a familiar, painful cold that I had spent five years trying to forget—the kind that didn’t just chill the room, but reached deep inside my chest and made it hard to breathe. Then he stepped through the crowd. Dave Nightclaw. Alpha King of the South. He stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - YOSEF “THE COMMAND IS CLEAR. GET THE TARGET ALIVE.” *PRIMARY TARGET: ALWYNN MONTEMAYOR; THE BIGGEST DRUGLORD IN DOWNTOWN SEOUL A.K.A. “THE BIG BOSS” *SKILLS: JACK-OF-ALL-TRADES; EXPERT ON IMPROVISED BOMBS *ACCOMPLICE: ANYONE *ULTIMATE OBJECTIVE: ARREST WITH EVIDENCE

If we ever found ourselves on opposing sides of a conflict, he wouldn't think twice about crushing me. The four kings and their heirs occupy the rest of the chairs: Pakstan of the North with Pharaoah, Theo of the South with Thorn, River of the East, and me, and lastly, Nathan of the fuckin' West with his second son, Elliot. The latter gives me a scowl, and I return it without blinking. He is a little younger than father in age, but he is still tall, and his grey eyes are exceedingly penetrating. Without sure, he is the one who proposed Bella be wed to one of his kids, who are more repulsive than he is.

Her breath hitched as she found him in the room , sitting in the darkness , staring intensly back at her with his pitch black eyes . She knew those black midnight like eyes. She was familiar with them. Those magnetic eyes always snatched her peace. Those eyes belonged to the King of Gadh, Abhimanyu Singh Rathore. Abhimanyu's eyes ! They were speaking so much , more louder than words could speak . She stared Directly into his eyes and tried to understand unspoken words but he again hide his emotions from her and blankness covered his pitch black intense eyes.

He simply nodded. "Have you had breakfast?" He asked and I shook my head. "Alright, I'll leave you to quickly do that. I just wanted to give something to you. I received an invitation letter from Marcus," he stated, and I furrowed my brows. "Marcus?" I asked in a whisper. "Marcus Taylor?" I threw him a questioning look, and he beamed at me, causing me to gasp. "If I am right, then he is the youngest son of the Moon Hunter pack?" I confirmed and he nodded briefly.

Then came the voice of the person I believed could testify in my stead. Darius. My brother, he stepped forward with deliberate grace, venom dripping from every syllable. “She always wanted the crown. Couldn’t stand being just the prince's whore. So she slit our Alpha's throat while he slept.” “That’s a lie!” I cried, chest heaving. “I would never!” “You were always a snake, Ayla,” Darius hissed. “Always scheming. Seducing Julian to climb higher. To get closer to power. You used him. And now you’ve shown your true fangs.”

I know we haven't quarreled once, nor has he bullied me for once, but this was weird. “Prince Kelvin!!” I bit my bottom lip. “Is what Tyrion guessing the truth? I didn't inhale that scent from him, yet he claimed to be the one I had a one-night stand with. The one-night-stand guy is the one that saved me in the woods and I almost caught at the restroom….but I'm not sure if he's the one providing for me since Prince Kelvin claims to be the one-night-stand guy and the one providing for me.” I exhaled a deep breath. Even though I hate Tyrion, I would take his advice this time by being cautious when it comes to Prince Kelvin.

"Otherwise, I might tell your future King the truth about your so-called friendship with his mate." "Are you threatening me, Alpha Kestrel?!" Damara burst out. "You should thank me; Tyrion doesn't know what really happened to Aria!" "Know your place, bitch!" Kestrel roared. "Remember that you don't have any proof." Damara huffed. "Neither do you!" "Remember that I am a member of the royal council while you are merely your foster father's puppet," Kestrel sneered. "Get on Tyrion's good side, and start being fucking useful."

"There's proof of a sort at Storm's End. Robert's bastard. The one he fathered on my wedding night, in the very bed they'd made up for me and my bride. Delena was a Florent, and a maiden when he took her, so Robert acknowledged the babe. Edric Storm, they call him. He is said to be the very image of my brother. If men were to see him, and then look again at Joffrey and Tommen, they could not help but wonder, I would think." "Yet how are men to see him, if he is at Storm's End?" Stannis drummed his fingers on the Painted Table. "It is a difficulty. One of many." He raised his eyes. "You have more to say about the letter. Well, get on with it. I did not make you a knight so you could learn to