Helaena Targaryen Novels & Stories

I crossed the chamber in three steps and stood in front of Helena who was pinned against the wall unable to move. Up close her face was terrifying. The black eyes were wild with fear and rage and the dark energy around her was flickering and dying as Luna's silver light continued to burn through it. Helena looked ancient in a way that had nothing to do with age. She looked like something that had been evil for so long it had forgotten what anything else felt like. "This is not over" Helena said. Her voice had changed. Less smooth and controlled now and more desperate. "I am just one Shadowborn. Kill me and the others will come. They will come for your daughter. They will never stop."

She stared at the tent ceiling, listening to the wind, until exhaustion finally dragged her under. She dreamed of moonlight made solid. It stretched in every direction—smooth, pale, endless—like a frozen sea. When she stepped forward, the surface rippled beneath her feet, sending faint silver waves outward. The air smelled of frost and wild jasmine. A figure rose from the light. Queen Helena. Lucian’s mother. Her presence pressed against Talia’s senses with quiet authority. Silver eyes met hers, steady and knowing, stripped of ceremony or distance. “You carry the line forward,” Helena said. “But you must not carry its silence.”

The walls of the room shattered around me, flying towards the opposite direction. “Who the hell are you?” I snarled, terrified of the voice in my head. “I am Hela Morrígan! Goddess of death and rebirth. Your life was used to fulfill a prophecy, and we were reborn to bring about the great Armageddon,” she replied coldly, and goosebumps erupted across my skin. “I am a part of you as much as you are a part of me. Born from tears and fury, your willing heart would end the world so it would return healed of the differences that hunt your love.” She added.

"Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war." George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords (A Song of Ice and Fire, #3) • • • INTRODUCING THE MAIN TWO CHARACTERS:- • Neffie Hale Granddaughter of the highest ruler-the royal luna herself. She's a silent but attentive girl with a high intelligence, and an I-don't-care-like and a stubborn personality. She loves her family and will do anything to protect them. She values love the most and believes it is a sacred thing. She has long and wavy sunset red hair, a beautiful pair of fiery red (golden orange) eyes. Her smooth and fair skin is ivory in complexion and her height is 5'5". Also she has a thin ballerina shaped figure.

Only the sigil they all wore somewhere—tattooed, stitched, or burned: The Circle of Thorns. They moved like one body. No hesitation. No sound. Until the leader stepped forward. A woman. Older. Tall. Face wrapped in ash-gray cloth. But her voice? I’d heard it before. In dreams. In warnings. “My name,” she said, “is Helena Raye.” I froze. Because that was Isabella’s mother’s name. And Isabella? She didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just stepped forward. And said, “No. My mother died in this place.”

Malakai’s Alpha venom was still humming against my pulse point, while the lingering echo of Silas drinking my Solis blood pulsed rhythmically deep in my core. I hated how my body reacted to them. I hated that my wolf, Aurelia, purred every time one of the three Crimson Alphas stepped into my space. A soft knock at the chamber door shattered the quiet. "Aria?" a gentle, familiar voice called from the hallway. "Mother," I breathed, rushing across the plush velvet carpet to unlatch the heavy iron bolt. Helena stepped inside, carrying a steaming copper tray laden with honeyed tea, fresh bread, and a jar of herbal salve. She wore a clean tunic of soft gray wool—a stark upgrade from the stained ra

"You came back. I told them. I told 'em you'd come back. Everybody in here was walking around like a funeral for four days and I kept saying, the lady owes me a cake, she's not gonna skip town on a cake -" "Buttercream," Zariah said, not looking up from the maps, and I watched the corner of her mouth move for the first time in four days. "You'll have it. Now shut up and heal, I need Darius's brain and he can't use it while he's worrying about yours." "She's back," Little J said, to the ceiling, deeply satisfied, and subsided. Zariah’s POV I laid it out on the war table the way I'd once diagrammed a hostile takeover in a seminar room, boxes and arrows, my father's beautiful handwriting on a l

Older. Alone. By the sea. With gray eyes. She was on the island. And behind her — hundreds of children. Nora. Noah. Eva as a child. Countless others. Everyone looked at them. Mara blew. ‘No’ Helena turned sharply to her. “It chooses you next.” Silence. Then Mara understood. Helena wasn't a ruler. Not origin. She was a guardian. For over a hundred years. Hold on because the eye always needed someone.

He touched my neck and slid his hands down my breasts. “You’ve gotten prettier, how do you manage to do it?” he said with a frisky tone. “What are you talking about, I don't know you,” I retorted, moving away from him. “You don't need to know me, it's not important anymore,” he replied, grabbing my arms with a firm grip and slamming me to the floor. His tongue grazed my breast as he crawled up to my face and softly bit my neck. “Orders were to kill you, but I figured out it's better to have you for myself once again, Lena,”

Aileen replied, almost whispering to the wind. "I see." The lady with red hair and gray eyes, like Scheriziel, smiled wickedly. The lady smiled because she smelled something interesting about the girl in front of her. "Anyway, let me introduce myself. It's a pleasure to meet you, ladies, especially you," she added and stared at Aileen. She cleared her throat and resumed, "I'm Khaleesi." "The pleasure is mine. My name is Ai- I mean Scheriziel. And this is my trusted friend Athena." The queen was nervous and had almost slipped her real name.