Oberyn Martell Book Novels & Stories

Terribly wrong. "He's changed," Siron whispered, more to himself. "Since the tomb... he's fighting something inside him." Kit took a deep breath. "You said your mother told you to look for records. We brought this book." He produced a thick book he had managed to grab from the shelf before fleeing. Its cover was worn brown, inscribed with Gothic letters: Die Verlorenen Chroniken von Aethelford (The Lost Chronicles of Aethelford). The Self-Falling Book. When the hands chased them, this book had slid from the high shelf and fallen right in front of Siron's feet, as if pointing to itself.

“The castle bleeds enemies. Thalric’s death will not end this war—it will ignite it.” Before Serenya could reply, the chamber doors groaned open. Orren Kaelith strode through, armor dented, his halberd streaked with the blood of foes. The Guardian’s presence was like the strike of an anvil: steady, commanding, unyielding. His gaze swept across the devastation, pausing at Isolde’s lifeless form before fixing on Serenya. “You live,” Orren said, voice low but edged with relief. Then his eyes darkened as they fell on Darian. “But at what cost?”

She walked on Cyprian’s arm, her head held high, her mismatched eyes scanning the room with the boredom of a predator inspecting a petting zoo. Behind them marched Oryn and four knights of the Iron Legion. They were fully armored, their polished steel gleaming under the chandeliers. They didn't smile. They scanned for threats. "My god," a Baron whispered. "That necklace alone could buy my estate." Vespera heard him. She offered a small, terrifying smile. They moved through the crowd. The sea of nobles parted, terrified of brushing against the heavy furs or the cold steel. "They look frightened," Cyprian murmured, leaning down to her ear.

Embyr is Sir Kay, Arthur's adopted brother, the very first knight or the Round Table. One of the first to fall during the battle for Avalon. Her smile grows freakishly large, overstretching the boundaries of her face like a horror movie monster. The curse possessing her already transformed her into something obscene. "Good," she licks her lips. "The Queen will be pleased to know we have been re-acquainted. Now," she holds out a hand to me. "Hand over your Lady, and I will go easy on the rest of you. The queen only wants her, preferably alive."

The wind wailed afore the catastrophe and the trees shook their leaves slowly as though pitying us. We had been told earlier that we need each other for survival but none was cautioned that the golden orb we all embarked on for our specie was to spawn wickedness and jealousy in our hearts as we tried to secure it for ourselves—and specie. Margaret was the first to get to it; the orb. She was a werewolf, the fittest of us all. As she touched the orb, hundreds of spooky ghosts like the shadows of varmint, soared from above the ground and attacked her like a swarm of angry bees. Before I fled, two ghosts pulled out her eyeballs before floating into her sockets. Another laughed as it forced its

The wolves at the edge of the forest vanished as quickly as they'd come, melting into the shadows like mist at dawn. But their words lingered in the cold air, settling into my chest like something that would never leave. *The half-blood has defeated her enemy. Now let's see if she can defeat herself.* I stood at the edge of the camp, Stellan's hand in mine, and felt the weight of those words press down on me. Ronan was dead. The war was over. But something was still coming. Something that had been waiting for this moment since before I was born.

His thoughts went to a particular omega, Penelope, His eyes searched for the redhead and spotted her at the center of the ballroom her gaze focused in the direction of the throne “Oh great..." Daniel muttered His uncle was drunk and on the verge of having sex with a slutty woman that was sitting on his lap right in front of everyone's eyes. "Ah!!!” Daniel heard a loud squealing voice echoing through the room which challenged the beat of the music. He ran through the crowd to see the young omega holding a woman by her neck and gleaming into her eyes with disgust. "Get your filthy hands off my husband!!" The omega growled. Everyone including the king who was half drunk widened their eyes at th

he says excitedly. "You're referring to dragons ore aren't you? One of few known metals to be unbreakable," I say. "Right again," Fimrouck cheers. "We're going to reforge Chieftain Eleonora's blade using dragons ore. Dragons ore while being powerful is the hardest metal to work with. It takes extreme temperatures just to melt it down and once your weapon has been crafted there's no going back. Dragons ore can't be reforged," he continues.

I'm calling King Ryu and asking for a meeting with him before he extends an invitation to move into his kingdom. We started looking at the future ones, and Queen Winnie says, "That's the Northern Kingdom. It's actually a wing of the castle. That is King Ryu's son she is killing." I looked at the back. "This one happens in a week," I said. King Uther said, "I have to talk to him now. Aidinth, Will you come with me? He needs to know that the oracle is your mate so that he knows we will protect her to the death. It will also give her some more credibility." Queen Winnie said, “I will come with you. He needs to know that I trained Chloe.”

Something Elengard had brought her, to soothe her nerves today. And likely, to end her near-constant pacing. Which did seem to work. Bast willed it to always burn for her. Keeping the room cozy. She’d learned that when Elengard mentioned it a month ago. Book in lap, she was now absorbed in quests completed by a knight of the Round Table and his trusted friend, Merlinus. Elsabet’s attention lapsed from the book as she ran a hand through her hair. Instantly feeling a gaze on her, she looked around.