Harry Potter Son Of Asgard Fanfiction Novels & Stories

He was an astonished look on his face. “I want you to search for something else.” He said finally. “And what is that?” Byron asked. “Get me all you can on,” He looked up. “The Sons of Hades.”

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. Hayden is my son. What does he have to do with Summer?" "Your son?" Harry sneered. "Hayden has no direct blood relation to you. The person who shares his DNA is Summer! Do you want me to show you the DNA test report before you admit it?!"

Then—*flashes*. A cradle. A baby’s soft cry. White hair. Golden eyes. A name whispered like a prayer. Thorold. My eyes flew open. My heart *shattered*. Tears slipped down my cheeks, unbidden. I knew that name. I knew that face. My *baby*. The fog was gone. The witch who took my memories—her spell had weakened. I had a son. And he was calling to me. Back inside, I collapsed onto the bed, curled into a ball. Atlas sat beside me, gripping my hand as I cried.

Henry nodded in agreement. "Pardon?" Henry's expression conveyed his confusion. "Did you forget that your mother, Arya, will be furious if she sees Ms. Hart here with you?" Henry tried to intervene, but I stopped him. "I couldn't care less about what she thinks. I'm done being their son when they're plotting against me. Now go, do your job." He flinched at my words as he opened the portal. The room was bathed in the glow of the portal light before it abruptly disappeared.

“I have kept myself hidden from them for twenty-two years, I have no desire to run into them again” “Them ? You mean the men of seiðr ?” Harry gave a short nod. “They won’t bother anyone else”. “But still you know about them ?” “Yeah they took my baby brother. He has the DNA they were looking for. I read your papers. You were a match too. How did you get away ?”

He could feel his son’s presence in the air, a dark energy lurking just beyond sight, an ominous aura that seemed to chill the very air around him. It was his scent—distinct, thick, and somehow altered, as if his son himself had changed into something beyond mortal understanding. The stench of dark magic clung to it, tainted and raw, setting Alpha Jegh's instincts on edge. Somewhere nearby, Asshole was watching, biding his time. Alpha Jegh’s heart pounded as he called out, his voice steady but laced with an unspoken challenge.

he reiterated, and I continued to glare at him, studying me with his narrowed blue eyes. “My son gave you a part of himself and I can see that your child has inherited it as well,” he rambled as he peeked at my son nestled against my side. “You're delusional, sir. Aspen gave me nothing but repulsiveness. Please leave me at once!” I demanded sternly yet he continued to move closer. I could tell that he was trying to use compulsion on me but was failing miserably. Grabbing the blanket to wrap around my lower half I huffed.

Her voice low and hypnotic washing over him like a pain reliever. "You are going to be okay. Go to sleep!" The voice came again putting him to sleep immediately. --------- Thanatos pulled his hood back over his head. Immediately he stood up from the trunk the whole image turned to vacant space. "You had orders not to send him back!" A voice said coming from a man in the distance behind him. "Since when do father's orders interfere in the will of fate?" He asked turning towards his brother, Hypno the god of sleep. "He was key to opening the gates and securing our freedom!" He boomed.

The front door to the warehouse rattled in its frame and there was a grunt from the other side, before it opened and Harry and his werewolf staggered in, with Sparrow held between them, the Van Helsing fighting for all he was worth. Close up, he was a handsome man, Sigrid thought, possessing a strong bone structure and a lean-cheeked face. His eyes blazed with the intensity of his anger, and his dark hair was dishevelled, revealing scars of claw marks through his scalp. “Ah, Sigrid,” Harry was out of breath. “We’ve brought a wedding present for daddy-dearest.” “F-k,” Aislen said from behind the Triquetra. “That’s a fantastic present.”

I can feel the tension radiating off her, the raw hope and fear mixed in her expression. But before either of us can move, Harry tries to push past us, his eyes wild. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he mutters, his voice shaking. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” I grab his arm, spinning him around and slamming him against the wall. My eyes zero in on his right arm, and there it is — the birthmark, the one Irina Pavlova described. The unmistakable shape, the last confirmation I need. My voice is a low growl, barely controlled. “Where the hell is my son?!”