King Jon Targaryen Fanfiction Mga Nobela at Kwento

I will not give up the lover I have always waited for to a stranger like him. “What do you mean, dragon rider?” Daran hissed, holding back his annoyance. “This girl came with me. As you have heard from the jeverics, she is my bride.” I grinned without letting go of Jonea’s hug. “Why don’t you ask Jonea directly? Who will be her king? A Lycan disguised as a wizard like you or me?” I said coldly and sharply. Jonea looked confused, but she stayed in my arms. Although I felt a difference in her reaction. Jonea didn’t entirely like me hugging her. Was there another side of her heart that was trying to rebel?

Asher said. “I mean it!” Jon yelled. “So, what if you ruin everything now, as long as I am alive, I will start anew. It may take me years, but it would be my own generation; this time, I would be the revered ancestor, everyone would worship me. Now, I know that ring is important to your dragon friend, let me go safely or I will destroy it.” He said and right before his eyes, Alaric disappeared. “W-where did he go?” He searched around frantically.

All eyes went to Daemon who took confident strides towards her. He side-eyed Joffrey who stood right next to her and smirked. His eyes uncomfortably rested on her hand where the new wedding ring is on her finger. “I never thought you’d be the type of a man who would steal someone’s wife. Where did the honorable man who served my father go, Joffrey?” Joffrey’s face twitched in annoyance. “The old man would be disappointed on you if he’s still around today. He made sure his men are respectful to other families but I guess his own son fell short of his standards.”

Head down, Leon sagged at the table, like those figures glowing on the monitor had drained every bit of strength left in him. "I just wanted to be strong, so I could protect everyone," he whispered hoarsely. "I was so young... I was too ambitious to ask where that strength came from." "And the price was the extinction of my clan," I replied in a piercingly cold voice. "You built Targarion's glory on Valerian's grave. And most disgusting of all, you married me as if you were my savior." My hand closed on the briefcase handle just before I moved around him. Skin met skin, a flash of contact, suddenly that heat, so familiar once, turned sour inside me.

Her dress was blood red, her gaze sharp enough to carve. “I wondered when I’d finally meet the whore who thought she could steal what belongs to me.” Jon froze. And I stepped in front of him before he could speak in a bid to protect what was mine. “Who are you?” “His betrothed, the woman he was supposed to be with before he got distracted by whatever tragic rebellion you’re pretending is love.” “There is no arrangement, Lady Taliya.” Jon snapped. “Not anymore.” “Tell that to the nobles who backed your claim and ascension to the throne. Tell that to the Lycans who expect a bloodline free of bloody wolf filth. And tell that to your Father's grave if you dare.”

She never bothered so far as I was healthy and walking but I remembered when I was a little girl, sick with fever she stayed by my side till I was better before she disappeared once more. I loved her and she loved me in her own weird way that was why she gave me Archie so I would never be lonely growing up. "How dare she think of leaving me?! After everything I've done for her! After everything I sacrificed for her! Wasn't my love enough for her?" Father lamented as he drank himself to stupor. It was satirical watching the mighty Tyrion Greyjoy, a tyrant who enjoyed reaping where he did not sow and leaving the weak hopeless wailing over a woman whose body he owned but heart could never win.

Monty produces Joffrey’s guidebook from one of the men that roam behind us and places it before Joffrey's version two point oh. “How…” he looks down at the journal, taking it in his hands like it might break. “We had a guide,” I whisper, my heart breaking as his eyes look at mine. The same freaking eyes as Joffrey’s. “Jeremy had a son…” Falcon starts and Joffrey nods, tears in his eyes. “Yes, my namesake. My nephew, but he-he is magic-less. His mother took him and…” He pauses and looks at all of us. “You said had… As in the past tense,”

Bryant was going to live, his wound would take him some time before it could heal up. "The only reason you lost today." I said in ragged breath, I put in all my strength into this fight, my survival depended on it. "Was because you underestimated me." I bend down and place one knee on the ground as I look into alpha Bryant eyes without fear, he was glaring hard at me but he still couldn't move. "Don't you," I said in a dangerous voice, full of authority. "Ever look down on me again, I'm Aria Greyson, alpha Draven only daughter." With that I knocked him out by kicking him hard on his face.

Catherina says. "Enough!" Jona shouts, cutting her off. His voice quivers, the weight of grief and anger making his words uneven. "I was in my room that night, furious—furious because Father had said things that made me feel small, unworthy. She came to me, claiming she wanted to help me make Father see me as more than just Arthur’s shadow. I won’t lie—I’ve always wanted to be king. And when Arthur started to falter, I thought maybe… maybe there was a chance for me. But I never wanted to force him out of the position!"