King Jon Targaryen Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Samson Wood said, “Boss, I will arrange someone now to find the woman named Vany. Once we locate Vany, Ryan will stop helping Conley. You can even recruit Ryan and kill two birds with one stone.” Thomas pondered for a moment. “It’s okay to arrange someone to find Vany, but don’t use her as leverage. If you do that, what is the difference between me and Conley?” Samson asked, “So boss, you plan to…” Thomas pursed his lips slightly and said, “Do you know of the fictional character, Daenerys Targaryen in her quest to recruit Tyrion Lannister in ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’?” Samson blushed awkwardly.

“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.

Aurum howled in pain and the foundations of the gathering shook. “Easy Dan,” Jaime laughed. “You’ve not had a duel in over a hundred years. What makes you feel you can defeat me?” “You are no match!” Xavier roared. “I would tear you apart limb by limb and your bones would be used to make my new throne.” “Good idea,” Jaime rubbed his chin and laughed. “Use the King’s son’s bones to make a new throne.” Jaime turned to face Jimin. “How do you like that Asian cunt?”

Sometimes you just get a bad apple. “But sometimes the whole tree is rotten.” Santos growled. I opened the door and kicked it open, growling. “What?! Who are you?! Don’t you know who we are?!” Tyrion’s father shouted as I pushed him again the wall. “Where is Alpha Jayden?” I asked. Tyrion’s father laughed, “you’re too late. My son will soon be Alpha.” He stared ahead, something most people did when they mindlinked someone. “Don’t you dare tell your son.” I growled.

I purred. Her eyes lit up, "Caden you know just what makes me happy. I'll be quick," she says making her way toward the pack house and I couldn't help but smile. As I made my way out of the crowd to a quieter section near the edge of the ceremony grounds, my eyes caught what was unbelievable. I saw Tyrion, Alpha Bastian's son, on his knees behind a cluster of bushes. His head was bobbing rhythmically as he eagerly worked his mouth over the hard length of a boy from what looked like Firstfell pack.

Ty I was training with my brother and Tommen in the gym, it was just three of us who were sharing jokes. Tommen was about sixteen when we died and his father was killed along with us because he refused to bend a knee to Roman. His father Kenrig was loyal to Aidan's throne but he told his family to survive and avenge him when it was right before being killed by Roman. His brothers bent a knee along with his mother and two sisters to survive, he always knew we would be back somehow and he trained hard for years unknown to Roman as his family was made omegas because of their father. Addison had recruited him in the early years and his family joined the rebellion to avenge their father. His moth

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.”

Whoever had carried me to that hotel room could have been someone in Kael's circle. A cousin. A relative. A younger alpha. Someone whose blood would smell like family to the King. But I couldn't share that. Not before I had proof. "Who is the father?" he asked. "He lives far from here. A different pack." The words came smooth. Five years of practice. "You're raising a pup alone here. As a rogue." "Yes." He studied me for a long moment. Up close, his pine and cedar scent and something warmer underneath that made my blood hum.

“Convergence, bridge of realms, you seek the blade. Prove your worth, or perish.” My wings unfurl, lunar light flaring, but the construct’s gaze pierces me, and the forge shifts. I’m no longer in the citadel—I’m in a Conclave chamber, centuries ago, Elara’s lunar mark glowing, her voice pleading. “Don’t trust Taryn,” she says, her amber-silver eyes meeting Jorah’s. “His Veilbinder pact with Voren will doom us.” Jorah’s aura, primal and steady, falters as Taryn steps from the shadows, his blade striking Elara’s heart. She falls, silver blood pooling, and Jorah roars, claws slashing, but Taryn’s shadows overwhelm him. I scream, my claws slashing air, but it’s a vision, a memory, and the constr

"Alaric, get up. Please get up. PLEASE..." "No..." I sniffled. "No, you promised. You promised you would protect me. You promised..." I refused to believe that he was gone as the bond went silent. "ALARIC!" I screamed with everything I had, my voice breaking. "NO! COME BACK! PLEASE COME BACK!" "He's gone," Viktor said coldly. "The Lycan King is dead. Long live the new era." "I'll kill you," I sobbed, still fighting even as the sedative dragged me down. "I'll kill all of you. I'll rip you apart..."