Lord Of Harrenhal Novels & Stories

"He took my life, my identity, and now he's living with my name, my degrees. How can I just let that go?" I gave his back a comforting pat and met his gaze. "In a few days, when the weird end of days rolls in, we'll make him pay." Jim gave a small nod, his skin cooling down, no longer fired by my blood. Right then, I noticed something odd, the weak Haunts that had barely any strength were suddenly frantically feasting on my leftover blood. Their once translucent bodies filled with vigor as they started to circle and swoop around me. "I've got a plan!"

His face was still incomplete, but his eyes burned brighter. He extended a hand. “Come. Rise as the son you were meant to be.” Emory hesitated, then took it. The moment their hands met, the altar’s light dimmed. Emory’s veins burned, gold bleeding into black, until both colours swirled together beneath his skin like molten metal. The King leaned close, his breath cold and heavy as winter. “You are mine now, Emory Lannister. The last wolf born of betrayal. The bridge between blood and shadow. When the sun rises red, you will lead them, and burn the world clean.”

“Whatever you know for your mother, remember? Better start talking.” She inhales a shaky breath and sits down. “The vampire lord's name is Dario Vitale. He's ruthless, fearless, reigns over three kingdoms because he's constantly waging war against tiny villages owned by witches. Some people say they've never seen him, and others who have described him as a young man whose beauty can make you sin.” I cross my leg, tapping my fingers against my thigh as I stare at her. “And the kingdoms he rules, what are their names?”

“But you’ve got this. You do. You remember the choreography, right?” I nodded. My throat was too tight for words. Professor Marwood didn’t wait. “Amara Dorne of House Viremont, third-blood to Councilor Elaine Dorne, and Caelin Harren of House Myrren, first-son to the Delta Wardens of southern Lirath. Step forward.” Another pair.

Greg raked a hand through his scanty gray hair "Why bother John? You are no longer in active service." "If it goes on, the hinterlands would be overrun by wildlings from other species. We all would not be safe, even here in the central city." John's frail voice was laden with concern. "Send a petition to the throne, be rest assured King Wayne has deltas scouring the axis as we speak. King Warren was a competent protector, King Wayne is twice as much," Greg grated.

"The young maiden is here of her own accord, right, my lady?" Delilah lifted her chin defiantly, her voice resolute. "Yes, I am here by choice, and we have come to apprehend this traitor," she declared, pointing directly at me. "Whatever this is about, I won't let you take her—not in the king's absence. You'll have to kill me first," Soren declared, his body morphing into his formidable half-human, half-wolf form, bracing for conflict. I knew what all this was about, and I wouldn't let anyone die on my account. All this had been shown to me in my dreams, and I didn't want anyone to suffer because of me. So, I acted quickly.

The Crown of The Dead, made out of the bones of his ancestors, sat heavily upon his spider-silk hair, the gray ash of his skin making his eyes into a stormy abyss. The sky darkened outside my curtains, and I knew it was his displeasure that made it so. Here was not my godfather but Lord Ingálvur Nam-Tar of the In-Between, Drow Lord of the Dead and Dying, One of the Six Swords of The Court of Moon and Shadow, and Sacred Culler of the Mortal Realm From Infinite Death's Corridor. And he was not to be fucked with.

, he said. "Oh! Thank goodness!", Diana thanked. But little did she know, the Lore king was no ordinary, he had a great power within him and a dark secret. He wasn't entirely a lore, he still had humanity in him. But this humanity was fading away, day by day and to conserve it, he wanted another human beside him. An arrow was shot on his carriage. He came out see, and saw some archers. The carriage driver stood in front of him. Another arrow was shot at him, but it passed through the carriage driver's chest, but still no damage to him.

He would have killed that girl then and there, but he need the name of the poison which she used on that sword to paralyze Irina. The Raven Prince is the most powerful and feared among all the dragon clans. No one has the potential to stop him or go against him. He is just twenty-five, but dragons who are more experienced than him are all scared of him. No one can win over him. His word is a law and no one would dare to go against it. But for the first time, a slave is living even after being at the receiving end of his wrath. "Did you find anything about who she is and where she came from?" Cadmus asked the chief commander of his army.

The green monster wailed loudly as its eyes shed blood drops but his mourning couldn't last long a minute when Lyceon butchered its head from its animalistic body and it hurled around at the corner. Allison’s breath hitched seeing his cruel end. She was not someone who was immune to violence and obviously staying behind in the pack during wars to take care of injured members didn't let her experience any sort of fights on the battlefield. But today, this small or not so small combat left her into the abyss of swarthy brutality. She realised the saying was true. He is called the Dark Lord for a reason. She tried to rub her chest to avail a greedy breath, meanwhile her teary eyes raised up see