Ivar Lothbrok Novels & Stories

"That was fun..." "Yeah...Do you care for some wine?" I asked and he nodded wordlessly.There was this weird silence between us as we sipped our wine, our eyes glued on the television screen.We were watching the last episode of Game of Thrones . "I prefer Vikings to Game of Thrones..." He commented. "Me too..." "So who is your favourite actor in Vikings?" "Ragnar Lothbrok and you?" "Ivar the boneless...." "Don't tell me you pity him because he is a cripple?"

Gabriel Long died. At this point, I generally understood a few things: Members of that family are cold and sinister, Dani is equally shrewd, and while the family always wished for his death, he has been waiting for an opportunity to strike back and get his revenge. "He has been waiting for a chance to take revenge on the Long family. But after decades of looking, he still hadn't found his opportunity and was finally unable to stay idle any longer. So, he ended up stealing the Long family's core information to sell and used all of the money to buy scattered stocks of the family's enterprise.

I What does a man know about the gods and their actions? Nothing, to be precise, nothing at all. But he still hopes that they will change their mind. Most pray to the Old Gods of the mountains and rivers, while some pray to the New Gods that came across the sea with the Ivarns. They pillaged, looted and raped their way into the history books, as one of the greater threats that the Westerlands faced. They were a small tribe, at first, living on the northern shores of Sevardokin, the largest island in the Lovin archipelago.

Tobren said. “No,” Arlo spat, “but I know exactly what you smell like—witch-tainted.” Tobren snarled. “I’m a Vale. My wolf comes from bloodlines cursed and reborn. I was raised in shadow to rule. And she—” he pointed at me “she is the key.” Arlo’s jaw flexed. “Key to what? You’re not touching her.” “She’s not yours! She's only yours when I'm rejected, or dead,"

No one sees him move, but with a flick of his wrist, the representative of the Blackthorn family is thrown several meters into the air, slamming into the wall, and the scythe embeds itself in the wall, just above him as though to say, you could have lost your neck just now. I gulp, goosebumps rising on my skin. Why is he standing up for me? More importantly, what could he want from me? "Does anyone else have an objection?" He asks casually. Alpha Xander steps back, his eyes wary. "What the hell are you?" The stranger grins, the angle of the sunset lighting a part of his face, making his grin look sinister. "I go by many names. But you can call me Ragnar Thorne." Alpha Xander stiffens, his fa

KING RAGNAR LOTHBROK and his crew were away for nearly six months when they returned, bearing news of their triumphant raid. The people of Kattegat sang their praises, welcoming their beloved warriors back to town with jubilant cheers. Sophie stood beside Helen and the other slaves, a little away from the boisterous crowd, observing the Lothbrok family's reunion. Rollo's absence was notable, considering he was renowned as one of the best warriors. She watched the famous priest, Athelstan, whom she had yet to meet, warmly greet Queen Aslaug and Ivar, a display of affection that made Sophie wonder if she would ever hold them in such high regard.

came the now slightly-nasal and much-less-booming voice. "Because you have the tackiest entrances of anyone I've ever met," Tarloh grumbled. Lothar, or Lothar the Magnificent as he liked to be called, was a wizard from Los Angeles who had been helping Tarloh and the Strays in recent months try and identify the source of the Hellspawn threat. It was Lothar who had directed them towards the legends of the Elder Gods. "Tacky?!" Lothar blurted. "I worked hard on that entrance!"

Its roots ran deep into Urd’s Well, where firefly-like lights flickered above the water, spiraling upward until they wound around the golden vines of Valhalla. Loki hovered beneath the World Tree—red hair, white robes, flames dancing in his eyes—almost unchanged from the last time I had seen him. “Hand Ina over.” Those were his first words.

I wanted to gouge his eyes and shred him to pieces as jealousy and possessiveness warred inside me. Ivan Volkov was back. Wearing a navy-blue pinstripe designer outfit with diamond cufflinks and a watch that would put the government of a small country to shame, he sported power. So yes. Ivan Volkov was back in the game. He was the leader of the rogues. And he had an empire of his own. I knew that he had come to take back his heir.

Emotions, whether joy or anger, never showed on her face. "He's searching for someone named Brody," Lothario disclosed truthfully. Brody? Who was that? Everyone was puzzled; they had never heard of such a person. Seeing the confusion among the crowd, Lothario continued, "He's from Wyverna, lured over by New Hope, then sold off. But after changing hands several times, no one knows where Brody is." Clearly, they had put a lot of effort into the investigation, knowing the details quite well.