Jace Targaryen Novels & Stories

--- The second lie came when she was fourteen. That one was worse. Because it wasn’t about blood. It was about love. Or what she thought was love. His name was Jace, and he came from the other side of the fence—half Vitale, half unknown, with a smirk that looked like trouble and hands that made promises he never kept. He was five years older, always around, always watching, and she was too smart not to know better. But she didn’t care. He made her feel dangerous in a way that wasn’t survival.

"Do you see that night view? There's a line from a poem that I like very much. 'Melt into the darkness.'" The moment Sebastian opened the window, a blast of chilly wind blew on Jace's face. When he looked at the ground stretching out below him, Jace burst into tears of fear. "Mr. Ballard, h-have mercy on… me! I'll never dare to do it again!" he shouted with his last remaining strength. The members of the Sartzade Chamber of Commerce stared at the scene, dumbstruck. Jace, the heir of the Janover Beckards, had always been imperious and arrogant. However, Sebastian had carried him over to the window as if he were a dead dog.

Before the conversation could go any further, heavy footsteps echoed down the wide staircase. Jace Kane descended like he owned the entire world, which, in many ways, he did. At twenty-five, he was tall, heavily muscled from years of underground fighting, with sharp, chiseled features, dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead, and intense dark eyes that seemed to cut straight through people. Tattoos peeked out from under the sleeves of his black t-shirt. He looked dangerous. Intimidating. And unfairly, devastatingly hot. My stomach flipped despite myself. I had seen photos of him before the wedding, but seeing him in person was completely different. He radiated raw power and arrogance,

I want her punished,' ' Oh, certainly. I will see to it,' he said. Jace never liked Charlotte and was convinced she was evil. I always felt something was wrong with Charlotte. However, I was blinded by the fake bond. I had a soft spot for her even though my whole heart belonged to Love. After discussing finding Maleck with my best trackers, I pushed through the work. I needed to know everything about his pack and take him out soon. Jace informed me that the vampire king had selected a neutral meeting spot. I was pleased with his fast response to the meeting. He mentioned that his delegates and son, Aegon, would join him.

Have a care, Lorath, he'll hit you with his stick "A man must be ashamed of the company he keeps, Arry," the handsome one said. "This man has the honor to be Jaqen H'ghar, once of the Free City of Lorath. Would that he were home. This man's ill-bred companions in captivity are named Rorge"—he waved his tankard at the noseless man—"and Biter." Biter hissed at her again, displaying a mouthful of yellowed teeth filed into points. "A man must have some name, is that not so? Biter cannot speak and Biter cannot write, yet his teeth are very sharp, so a man calls him Biter and he smiles. Are you charmed

The tall double doors creaked open, and Jace Moren stepped into the room. He looked nothing like the boy she'd once trusted with her life. His dark hair was longer, unkempt, and streaked with mud. His eyes—once so vibrant and smug—were sunken and weary, rimmed with dark shadows. His cloak was torn, his boots cracked, and dried blood marked the corner of his mouth. The once-proud heir to one of the northern warrior families looked like a ghost of himself. “Rayne,” he said, voice cracking with emotion.

I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what kind of a person he was. What kind of person was my dad?" Flora sniffed "Then I will tell you," Madam Zilla said and Flora nodded According to Madam Zilla, "Back in the day, Fallon was the boss over the clan, and that's Jace's father." Who exactly is this Jace? Flora asked "Tiger. You don't really believe that Tiger is his real name, do you? According to Madam Zilla, his real name is Jace Fallon, and Flora nodded in agreement.

I knew what he was capable of. "Don't touch me," I hissed, leaping backwards, "I don't want you near me ever again, do you understand?" Jace didn't crumple like I expected him to. For all his softness and kindness he was surprisingly strong beneath that. The smile drifted away and his spine straightened, pulling him up to over six feet with ease. His hand fell away which I was grateful for, but I knew that the war was far from over. His eyes were blazing with determination. That entitlement that I had seen before was rearing its head up.

Where was her father and why did he seem busy? In the far east of Kerala Kingdom, there was a famous forest that was called the Forest of Ziel. It was well-known around the continent as it was where the green jeweled eye wielder resided–Raphael Sol Zielony. Raphael was known as the youngest Saint Archmage of the first generation. And among the first generation of the jeweled eye wielders, he had the least hardship that he faced. It was perceived by the people that he was lucky that he didn't experience the adversity that others faced. But little did they know, that he was no different from them.

He didn’t need to. Kael’s cold eyes found me through the haze, their intensity like a weight on my chest. “Jace.” His voice cut through the battle like a blade. Calm, deliberate, and far more dangerous than the chaos around him. Slowly, he began to walk toward me, his steps unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. “You’ve done well,” he said as he drew closer. His armor gleamed in the firelight, and the jagged symbol of his forces glinted ominously on his chestplate. “But I’ve been watching you. You’re holding back.”