Jon Snow Death Book Novels & Stories

"She's brain dead. Time of declaration- 11:43 p.m." Everyone walked out of the room one by one while Violet was crying somewhere in the background, with Kirk consoling her. A few minutes after they were all gone, a nurse walked in and covered me with white cloth. She walked out right after that, but then someone entered almost immediately. I knew it wasn't the nurse because the footsteps were heavy. The figure walked up and stood right next to my bed. He was close. Too close. And then the deep, male voice said. "You deserve this. Once you are gone... immortality will be mine."

LILY The snow hadn’t stopped falling since dusk. It came down in soft sheets, muting the world into something unreal — like the universe itself was holding its breath. Inside the chalet, the fire glowed low and golden, painting the walls in amber. The scent of cedar and smoke filled the air, and somewhere in the distance, a storm rumbled like it couldn’t quite reach us. Jake was by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn’t watching the storm — he was watching me.

She chuckled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You know Bowman will kill you in return for the death of his brother.” Auron reminded his sister. Concern and warning laced his voice. Bowman’s brother died in Grithim under the captivity of Nightbane. Snow is bound to die too under the captivity of Bowman. Vice versa. “No… Bowman will not kill me.” Snow shook her head. “I have something he had always wanted. His child.” “This child will only fuel his anger for Grithim more. It will boost his morale. With that boy gone, my child’s place as the future alpha is secured, and I am safe.”

He knows that cannot match him at all, there is only one other way, Jon thought to himself. “There he is! that’s is the Jonathan Pogromca that I know. Courageous, brave, and unwavering. Will not accept defeat, even when the odds are against him.” Randell said to him smiling, “Heroic till the end eh, Jon. What are you going to do now?” “There is one thing that you are mistaken, Del.,” He said clutching firmly the small knife in his fist. “And what is that?” “You think that my father is dead.” He lifted the book in front of him. Randell stares at it, curious at what he is planning.

Snow said, “Wolf, Lucifer is your friend. Please give me an explanation. I didn’t share the mission with Lucifer and its my fault, but she deliberately led the monster to me and killed me. I should have taken the task. Its my fault, but she was too far.” Elf asked, “Snow, your equipment is so good. Can a monster kill you?” Seeing Elf’s words, I curved my lips and smiled. This sentence hit the nail on the head. A weak player like me who had an orange outfit might be killed by a monster. But Snow's hard golden outfit, how could she be killed? Snow explained, “I was careless. Just now, I saw her fight with monsters. I attacked too. Then my friends sent me a message. I glanced at the message and

But gratitude could not bring love back. My love for Adrian Moretti had ended that Christmas Eve, when my father died in the snow.

Dad's fingers trembled as he tried to open it, but he kept missing the button. Finally, Uncle Arnold reached over with a shaky hand and tapped it for him. The image was taken under the harsh light of a flashlight. The background was a stark landscape of white snow and black rock. Curled up in the snowdrift was a livid, purple-blue figure. His thin windbreaker was torn to shreds, exposing a gaunt, bony back beneath. The person's face was buried in the snow, his expression impossible to make out. But his hand—raised high, frozen mid-air—was clenched around a half sheet of blood-stained paper in a death grip.

As rain started to fall, I belatedly remembered how the weather forecast said it would get colder later in the night, and maybe even start to snow. Once it starts snowing in Atlanta, it never seems to stop. I used to dread winter, but Lucas would always wrap me in his coat several sizes larger than I was, keeping a warm blanket available in his car just for me. Looking back now, those moments of so-called happiness were never meant to last. As the rain poured harder, strands of hair stuck damply to my forehead, and my steps wavered almost to the point of collapse. I shook my head and let out a bitter laugh. How did my life end up like this?

I fall to my knees and double over for a second as the vision of Hugo fills my mind. In a flash, Doze is next to me. “I felt it too when my old man died. It should pass quicker for you because your wolf wasn’t really attached to him. Their souls never bonded,” he explains. I grunt and try to push to my feet but a wave of nausea hits me. “Just sit tight for a minute, I’m gonna get the hose,” he says, as I throw myself on my back. The feeling is like a bad leg cramp all over my whole body and for a moment, I can’t move.

He said nothing but something in his eyes told me that he already knew. "It was your dear mother, it's funny you know... because I thought she was dead." My tone changed, losing the fake playfulness it held moments ago, a frown creased my forehead, "Wasn't she?" I pressed my palms on both sides of the handrest and leaned forward, "You see, when I kill someone, they're supposed to stay dead." I rolled my eyes, "But for some reason, all the dead people in my life somehow come back to life and they make their way into mine and screw it up."