Magnar Game Of Thrones Novels & Stories

“Magnus Horne? I’m not sure I know that name? Victor was your father’s friend, I know that.” “Magnus Horne is a Dragon. He’s here because the council reached out to him and asked him to come. He is a friend now and has agreed to help. They will come up with something. I’m just not sure what to do on my own.” I sighed and put the last of the garbage in the bag while Gram wiped up anything sticky.

He was getting tired at the confused looks and the worried looks his companions constantly gave him. ‘Remember, information is power’ Fafnir warned. Sighing and rolling his eyes, Rex knew what he meant so decided that he would share a part of his story. “As you both know, I am a Magnus, and with being a Magnus, I can sometimes use the power of a dragon to aid me in combat. The reason why I seem like I zone out, is because he talks to me inside my head, it can get very distracting at times. But as you have both also seen, the strain of my body also becomes too much the more I use.”

Magnus' POV The afternoon sun filtered through the thick branches of the old oak tree, casting dappled shadows over the courtyard. Magnus stood in its shade, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the distant horizon as a restless energy simmered beneath his calm exterior. The weight of expectations and half-truths pressed heavily on his shoulders. He had built this life purposefully, choosing Riana as his mate to strengthen the pack. Everything was supposed to be perfect, yet something gnawed at him—something intangible but insistent.

Bree exclaimed in surprise and joy, " I thought you were dead also, I'm so glad and relieved." Watching their happy reunion irritates Pweety; just as she is about to interrupt them, the head of the pack warriors rings the bell to draw their attention before announcing with Magnus by his side. " The game has been canceled," he announced. A loud gasp followed, a gasp of relief for some, and a gasp of shock and anger for some but Magnus wasn't concerned about it, rather he stood above the balcony, his wolf growling and barking, he felt a wave of soft chills run through his spine and the back of his palm glowing which only means one thing.

he said, rising to leave. The warmth of the flame painted their faces with a soft glow, highlighting the contours of their features. The air in the tent was tense, as both men remained in silence afterward. **** Magnus felt a deep-seated anger inside him, boiling like a raging fire. He had never trusted Ragnar, but he had hoped that his daughter Aurora's marriage to Derek would at least bring some change to the house. He had thought Derek was different from his father, but now he realized he was wrong. Magnus felt a sense of regret for letting his daughter marry into such an unfitting house as Ragnar's, despite his knowledge of their evil deeds.

“We need to focus on the omegas first. They’re the most mistreated. If we win them over, the others will follow.” I nodded, my mind already working through the possibilities. “You’re right. They’re desperate for change.” But before I could say anything more, a dark presence loomed over us. I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Magnar. He strode toward us with an unmistakable air of anger, his jaw clenched, his steps heavy. I felt Elijah tense beside me, but he remained composed, always ready to play his part. “Oh, Magnar,” Elijah greeted smoothly, leaning back as if completely unbothered by the sudden intrusion. “Please, join us.”

Fear raced down my spine and I rushed to meet him. It was Magnus— the healer Alpha Aegon had called. He…looked the most unusual, his eyes heavily lined with dark makeup that made him just the slightest bit different from a panda and long, wavy hair in shades of black and gray. “Is she awake? Can I see her now? What’s going on? Please, is she going to be okay?” I asked, wondering if I should wait for a response or go in to check for myself. “Magnus,” Alpha Aegon called from behind me and I realized that he hadn’t left. “Give me all the details.”

“Through a blood oath with Ronan.” The cave went silent. Derek’s hands trembled with rage. “That’s not possible. Ronan is dead.” The rogue tilted his head. “Is he?” A chill ran down my spine. “Ronan’s magic was never destroyed,” the rogue continued. “It lingered, waiting for a vessel. And Magnus—” he exhaled—“was the perfect host.” Jax cursed. Derek’s jaw tightened. “So Magnus isn’t just an Alpha.” The rogue nodded. “No. He is a shadow of Ronan himself.”

“Pain is a signal. It tells you where you are weak.” Ragnar’s chest rose and fell. He listened. “You remove weakness,” Magnus continued, stopping in front of him. “Or you die because of it.” Ragnar nodded once. No argument. No hesitation. “Again.” This time, Ragnar didn’t rush. He stepped forward slower, eyes locked on Magnus, not wild, not emotional. Focused. Studying. Magnus moved— But Ragnar reacted faster than before. He shifted his weight, barely avoiding the first strike. Not perfect.

“But remember that you cannot be useful for too long, my time is coming, Asher when I will take your life and everything you hold dear.” “Until that time comes, do enjoy being a slave to your master,” I said. “Watch your back, Asher,” Magnus said and stood up. “I am not worried about you, Magnus,” I replied. “I am not talking about me, I am talking about the new players in the game, the ones that ruptured the connection of Kieran from the pack.” He replied. “Now you are worried about me?” I asked. “Yes, I am worried someone will kill you before I do,” he replied and headed for the balcony. I joined him there, strangely enjoying our conversation.