Jace Targaryen Novels & Stories

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.

People in the north barely talk about him too, but they are aware of him. "I was fascinated to hear about you and was more grateful that the north has you now that we are facing a crisis over the increasing number of insurgents. I was really anticipating having a conversation with you, Raenerys the Conqueror." The voice he has is a mixture of Nevil and Acheron. Even his face resembles the faces of the Lancaster siblings. No wonder; it runs in the blood.

For the elite guard to grace their home meant something monumental was happening—whether a blessing or a curse, she didn't know. Jake stepped forward, bowing low as the commander approached. “Is that her?” the Kingsguard asked, his sharp eyes locking onto Calista. “Yes, Sir Braavos,” Jake replied eagerly. “Her name is Calista Caitlynn. Nineteen, a maiden, and a virgin. I am certain the Alpha will find her suitable.” Sir Braavos signaled his men, and a heavy iron box filled with gold coins was handed over to Jake in exchange for his daughter.

“That is called jealousy, sister. But you did good, regardless. I smirked faintly. “Crumbled men are dangerous. They don’t die quietly. They rebuild, and when they do, they come for blood. That’s what I admire about Alphas, they’re predictable in their fury. And she is an Alpha born. She is angry, grieving as well, but she is going to rise stronger. Only, I am going to be sure that she chooses a different side this time, mine.” She looked away, frustrated. “You’re playing too close to the edge. If Xavier finds out…” “If?” I interrupted, raising a brow. “He will find out. Eventually. That’s the point. That is how I am going to break him.” I stood and walked toward the window, the night stretc

He would kill even without caring about the consequences and it came a time when I was even afraid of myself. So, precisely, I have three consciousness in me including mine but a lot of people only know me and Andy. Jack only shows up when he wants to do something bloody and he has no emotions whatsoever. He enjoys the smell of blood so much that at one point, I once thought that he was a vampire. But he never consumes blood, that is the only thing that consoles me. Looking at the sky full of stars, I sighed in relief. I have already put the Jones family behind me and now I look forward to what I will do next. My life has been shrouded in darkness for a long time but I am starting to see som

"After you answer my last question." Anna swallowed nervously. "You say, Mr. Morris." "Do you remember what this Targary looks like?" To get Anna to describe his appearance in as much detail as possible, I guided her. "For example, does he have a thick mustache? Does he look like he's in his forties or fifties?" "No, Mr. Morris." Anna frowned, her gaze carrying a hint of confusion. "This Mr. Targary doesn't have a mustache. He's neither in his forties nor fifties. He looks very young, just like... just like you."