Oberyn Martell Novels & Stories

I must admit, Eren is a sexy badass on that monster. He dashes forward as if he will crush me and in reflex, I swiftly step back. But he stops in front of me and slides up his tinted visor so that I can see the upper part of his face. He tends me the helmet similar to his, except this one is in white colour.

After just a few short hours, Boro and his officers had arrived before Kurten, were they were greeted by the Lord Commander of the rebel forces, High Lord Hyltel Rembrate, one of the highest ranking nobles in all of Gladous. High Lord Hyltel was a boulder of a man. Lord Hyltel was not a particularly tall man, in fact Boro was at least a head taller than him. However he was built like a blacksmith. His wide body, at first glance, could be mistaken for fat but once you got close you could see he was all muscle. His large hands looked like that could easily crush stone. He had a wide, square jaw and a bald face and head making him look much more youthful then he really was.

Anne stepped forward with her golden bow readied. “Are you sure about this, Chief?” Raja asked. “We’ll be a week away by the time they get around the gorge.” “But, this is King Martel’s bridge,” Marseille protested. “He was your —” “He wouldn’t mind,” Anne insisted. “Trust me on this.” Katie asked Zeki in a hushed tone, “Who’s King Martel?” “He was the first king of Blue Bucephalus,” he answered. “Green Bits used to be part of that guild.”

I thought Toby might be offended and stop attending these breakfasts, but strangely, he was weirdly fascinated by the Lancasters for some unknown reason. As I catch sight of a shirtless Archer descending the stairs with a towel around his neck, memories from the past flood my mind, but I quickly shake them off. "No, Georgina," I silently scold myself. I inhale deeply, unable to resist glancing over his muscular biceps, chiseled chest, and abs. Toby stands to greet Archer, who only gives a brief nod of acknowledgment. It's evident that Archer isn't the biggest fan of Toby, despite Toby's admiration for him.

She hissed at me as she went to open the door for our first pack Alpha. “Alpha Theodore Bronx, Alpha of the green woods pack, I brought my sons, Thomas and Timothy as one of my boys will be the next Alpha I hope you don’t mind Luna Riverwood.” A man’s voice said. I couldn’t see him from my seat but looking to Charlotte this was the reason she was here tonight. “Welcome Alpha, come on in. We are having everyone come to the sitting room to meet her so please follow me.” I heard the Luna’s voice come down the short hallway. I stood not wanting to but trying to make this go as well as it could. A tall man with black hair followed the Luna into the sitting room, I of course recognized the boys

King Marco shouted, showing them that he was already pissed and the witch showed up while they were fighting the guards. Matteo as the future king with Calvin and James. They are stronger than King Marco thought. He knew that Matteo’s Lycan was strong, but he didn’t know that he was ancient, as well as Pi, Freya’s wolf and they were both ready for war.

We said goodbye and I headed to the address Nick had texted me. As I walked into the shop a friendly gentleman greeted me. “Miss Clarke, Mr. Thorn said to expect you.” “He did,” I sounded surprised. “I have the bottles ready for you.” We walked over to the counter, and he showed me the bottles. First was Chateau Montelena chardonnay and the second was a bottle of Macallan 18-year-old double cask whiskey. I nodded, not having a clue. I watched as he boxed the bottles up and placed a gift ribbon around each of them.

“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?”

"Meet my sons. Crown Prince Gideon and Prince Tobias." The princes bowed. Just enough to be respectful. Not enough to show deference. Gideon's smile was all teeth. Tobias didn't smile at all. "And this," Matthias continued, "is my son. Crown Prince Orion of Camelot." "Ah." King Odin's eyes lit with interest. "Prince Orion. The warrior prince. Your reputation precedes you. They say you've never lost a battle." "They say many things." Orion's voice was flat. "Indeed they do."

"Elara must still be spitting blood." "He thinks we are trapped," Cyprian said. He reached out and adjusted the clasp of her cloak. "He thinks walls can hold a wolf." BOOM. The front doors shuddered as a battering ram hit them. "Oryn," Cyprian commanded. "Ready, sir." Oryn stood at the head of the Iron Legion—fifty of the North’s finest knights. They formed a shield wall in the hallway. They didn't look frightened. They looked bored.