Is Jon A Targaryen In The Books Novels & Stories

Alpha Wayne’s pack was attacked by rogues and they killed him alongside his mate and three sons. “Alpha Wayne’s son?” Carter raised a suspicious brow. “Aren’t Alpha Wayne’s sons dead?” He glanced at me. “They are dead, right?” “Y-yeah.” I stuttered. “I escaped.” Mavros continued his lie. “I couldn’t have the rogues or anyone come after me, so I hid away for years. I changed my name from Ronan to Tyrion.” When he said the name I had given to him, his eyes found mine. “I couldn’t risk anyone finding out. I am only telling you people because I believe the royal family won’t let any harm come to me.”

“Your years prevent another. The time has come to discuss succession.” “And who would you see wear my mantle?” my father asked. His voice was still firm, though his knuckles whitened against the chair arm. Elder Jorah leaned in, thin lips curling. “There are Alphas ready to claim the chance. Young. Strong. Ambitious. Darius Blackthorn of Silverfang—his lineage is unbroken, his victories already spoken of. He would be a fitting heir.” The name burned in my ears. “Darius Blackthorn?” I burst out before I could stop myself. My voice rang louder than intended, slicing into the silence.

There was a moment of silence as we all watched Tyrion take a substantial amount of gulps before giving a response. “Well…it's a lucky day because I brought you a souvenir,” Tyrion, belched, and dropped his drink. He reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope, sliding it across the table towards me. “Beta Damon’s wife, Lisa, and his three-year-old son, Jayden.” I almost choked on my drink. “Wait what?” A sly smile gradually drew at the corner of my lip. “Could you please draw me a clearer picture?” I asked, leaning back into my seat.

The last thing Jon needed was anyone calling the police before he’d been able to pinpoint Zoe’s exact location. Images of her face flashed before his eyes. The way her eyes had glistened when he reassured her she was safe with him cinched his heart tightly in his chest. She had believed him and he had done nothing but let her down. Inside the ramshackle home, Jon found a stocky man with an unkempt beard dressed in sweatpants and a tattered shirt. Clearly, the phone call from Booker had awoken him. Beside him, tied to a chair with a rag shoved down his throat was George Stannis. Well… at least Jon fucking hoped it was him.

“And what of me? Am I just another chain he left for you to wear?” His gaze softened then, raw in a way she had never seen. “No. You’re the only thing that feels like freedom.” Her breath caught. For the first time, the Iron King looked breakable. But Bianca’s fire did not dim. She stepped close, so close she could feel the storm of his heart under his shirt. “Then prove it. Cut the chain. Show me you are not your father’s son.” Matteo’s silence was a knife between them. Then, without a word, he strode to the cabinet where a black leather ledger lay Cesare Romano’s final command book, the gospel of blood the family still bowed to.

I turned around to see a female roughly 5'5 with black hair, a male around 7ft with dirty blonde hair, and Jayce as well. "What a wonderful performance to turn up to. You definitely don't take disrespect lightly, do you, Sutton Nightshade?" The female says "Who are you? What do you want? And what the fuck are you up to, Jayce, you useless idiot?" I snapped. "Sorry how rude of me, I am Bellatrix Nevermore. Next to me is Ragnar Stonemountain. You all have a choice to make. Join Ragnar and help him to avenge his clan for what your ancestor did or we kill you all. Join us and destroy the one is called Serenity. What will your choice be?" Bellatrix says.

He was far away, lost in the firelight of the burning embers. His long black hair was loose around his strong jaw, with the golden crown pressing it down. The jewels of each point of the crown glimmered―blood rubies. He wasn’t in his traditional attire of high boots, pants, tunic, and cloak. Instead, he wore an all black suit, going with the more modern times. Jorah appeared downcast and lacked the usual joy of a birthday celebration. I didn’t see the Queen, Hellen―Laura’s mother, in the room.

He now asked confused, and I quickly shake my head as I say, “Eww, no. Uncle Tristan is mated to my greatest aunt. The person is from his side of the family, but that is irrelevant, because there is no way in hell, I would ever be interested in the likes of him.” “So, you know who he is?” Joffrey now asks, and I quickly shake my head, before I say to him, “No. I didn’t know he existed, nor do I think that my uncle does. I believe he must be the son of his deceased brother. It is the only thing that makes sense to me.” “Wait, the one he was just talking to you about, how it took you all to take him down?” Joffrey now asks, and I shake my head yes, remembering that my uncle had let that slip i

Leo retorted, his arrogance palpable. "Everyone has a weakness, even a lunatic like you," I countered. Leo's smile widened as he licked the prison bars and touched his chest theatrically. "I've got plenty of weak spots, Farrow. More than you can imagine." Once we were outside the prison, Jorah's face was tense. "What kind of monster is he?" he asked. "Are you sure he's related to Leah?" "He's her half-brother," I confirmed. "What do you want to do with him? Want me to bring in some specialists to handle this?" Jorah whispered. "You know, to extract information?"

, I said to myself, tapping my forehead in anger. Yes, it started with something like a Don, but the end of the name sounded like something I had heard on a TV show somewhere. I tried remembering the TV show, it was a very popular TV show, something about games and thrones - Game of Thrones, that was it. His name sounded like one of the characters, the queen with the blonde or rather white hair, Danearys. I tried to combine the two pieces of information in my head and then it struck - Donaerys. That was his name, Donaerys.