Game Of Thrones Series Novels & Stories

Right now, I'm in the process of writing out chapters of good quality, which would lead to a perfect ending to THE NORTHERN KING'S TRIBUTE. I hope to have the same amount of attention and love to THE NORTHERN KING'S TRIBUTE once I start updating again. Muah💋

Asper Reign Dahlia’s Pov My neighbor’s house finished after fifteen days only. From the foundation, floor, and roof. It also has water and electricity service. The furniture and appliances also arrived earlier, the only ones missing were the people living there. And from my room, I can see that they have heavy security. A lot of guards were roaming around the property, there were CCTV cameras in every corner and the height of the wall around it was so tall that nobody would try to climb it.

I say hesitantly. “Sup dude? How’s life on the dark side?” Xane blurts out. “Don’t be a douchebag.” Donnie buts in. “It’s fine Donnie. Life couldn’t be worse, couldn’t be better.” I huff. “Cool.” Xane laughs. “Show him the mask for the game we are playing later!” Alex chuckles. “Sure. Plain white mask, black hoodie and Dead Man’s Woods. We’re going to play manhunt.” Donnie says with a smile.

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.

Until now. And the stunt with the water and wine? Calculated. He was sure of it. A distraction, a deflection. She was hiding something. His grip tightened on the glass. Alexander was always the favourite, the golden boy. Now he was trying to cement his status with this...this imposter. Not on Nathan's watch. Nathan sank into his chair, mind racing. There was more to this than just some social-displaying girlfriend. No, Isabella Taylor reeked of secrets. Secrets that could unravel everything he had worked for.

Once again I would love to thank you for your love and support. This is my second book and hope you all will shower this book with all your love and care just like my first book ‘Mafia’s Innocent Love’. And also read my other book 'Mafia's Tainted Love'. And I don't know when I will write His Destiny (story of Divyansh Singh Khurana and Orni Gupta), a sequel to Game Of Destiny, but will definitely write it. Don't forget to follow me on GoodNovel. Keep reading and

“Yeah, right.” Porsche had been charging since Emerson returned home, and now, with its systems fully powered, they were diving into a flurry of adjustments and settings. A soft chime—ping—sounded as Porsche completed the latest update. Emerson tapped the tablet and looked up at Porsche. “Speaking of settings,” he said, “help me test the game Raven sent over.” Porsche inclined his head slightly. “As you wish, Mr. Emerson.” A few moments later, Emerson was in the living room. The large television lit up with vivid graphics as the game loaded. Porsche stood by his side with a perfectly upright posture, waiting for instructions.

The screen in front of her glowed faintly in the dark room. He crossed the room slowly. “What's that?” Rosana didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the screen. Her cheeks were stained with tears. Sergio looked at the screen and cursed. A flickering video. A house in flames. Children screaming. Smoke curling from shattered windows. Figures running in the chaos. Then—her. A little girl, no older than five, standing beside a woman—her mother—clutching her hands and sobbing. The camera shook.

Hearing it spoken in the open air above the Atlantic gave it a different quality. Permanent was the word she kept arriving at. Not ending. Permanent. The crown of the Vael bloodline was a physical object smaller than she'd expected, old metal worn smooth by time, carrying nothing theatrical. Seren placed it on Caspian's head with the precise care of someone who had done this for three hundred years and understood that the object was less significant than the moment. He became, in that moment, what he had been becoming for a very long time. She watched it happen.

No more excuses. And if I'm going to be a better, stronger person, I can start by sucking it up and dealing with these T-shirts already. Even if every time I see that stupid embroidered "Huntington Manor" logo I feel like I'm being stabbed in the gut. I get to work, making my way through an entire pile of hot pink shirts and half a pile of the electric purple ones before I find my gaze drifting back over to Ward.