Oberyn Martell Novels & Stories

I stood up from the bed and helped Margery gather some hair brushes from her vanity. “Lydia!” Margery sighed as she threw down the shirt in her hand. “I know it's a bad idea but it's the only idea!” My steps faltered as I paused and turned to face Margery. “What do you mean?” “Look,” Margery sighed deeply. “Vren is a prince of Thoranelle. His mother is powerful, ruthless but also the only reason for peace between Thoranelle and the werewolf packs,” “I don't think I understand,” I shook my head as my thoughts raced.

" I said . My voice was hoarse , it was already dissolving into tears. I couldn't bear to lose Gwen , I couldn't bear to see her with someone else . All I ever wanted was that she remains by my side. I didn't feel any mate bond with Gwen like I did with Morgana. But it didn't matter, as long as I was concerned , Gwen was my property. She was my most prized possession . She was a treasure in my kingdom . A special gift many kings would never be able to possess , they could only admire from afar . She was the most beautiful creature ever born among the twelve kingdoms , and all the mystic creatures .

Alexis was standing in the Terminus looking at the Departure Board and frowning, ‘Why the fuck does she want to go to Cornwall? He wondered out loud turning to Morgana, ‘Alexis, do you not know your history of England? Have you never heard of King Arthur and the Great Warlock Merlin?’ Alexis shook his head smiling, ‘Are you going to give me a history lesson now Morgana?’ He chuckled and she frowned back at him not amused,

"You watchdogs, what benefits did the little white face surnamed Martel give you to let you protect him so much?" "He is the one who left your eldest lady to flee for his life, and you still have to protect him, are you blind!" Nayon heard Joeren call himself a dog, gritted his teeth and held back his anger: "Joeren, you are also the heir of the Elliote, a figure with a head and a face, in front of everyone, you can't talk nonsense." "Mr. Martel did choose to leave first, but he didn't leave to escape, but to save people!"

He says gazing at me intensely. "What do you mean? Aren't you listening to me?" I ask him. "Trust me Morgana. Once you get your wolf, I'm the only one you'll be able to think about. This human boyfriend of yours won't even matter." He says firmly. "His name is Charles. Besides, we can always break the mate bond right?" I state "OUT OF THE QUESTION!" He says with a growl, his voice sounding authoritative and a shiver runs down my spine.

Orrian asked, his voice full of surprise. "Mates." Kian added dangerously, his voice was so cold. His hand cupped my neck, brushing the collar of his tunic down so Orrian could see the mark that branded my skin and claimed me as his. "So I’d appreciate it if you threw out any thoughts you have of her from that head of yours. Morgana is mine." Orrian looked stunned, but the frown that settled on his face moments later made my stomach twist with unease. Orrian wasn’t the type to frown often.

Matheus stood in the doorway of the tent, returning Rowan’s saluting gesture. He was one of Delmar’s closest friends and among his most trusted allies. He was the one to capture Alex when he was lost in the mountains of the Dark Zone after knocking him unconscious. In time, Matheus began to train Alex to fight with a sword, and at the time of the battle for the Citadel, he stood by Matheus’ side as they helped lead the Ravennites to their decisive victory against Robert Morenno. Matheus looked past Rowan and acknowledged him.

Amongst them, Ares was forgiving. Arthurian, the first among the twins. He had heterochromia, his left eye red, and the other— blue. His hair, black. One can see him in only two places in the Dark City — the archives and the night inn— for sure, surrounded by ladies. He was called the snake of the family, the master of whisperers, and the Midnight Legion's source of intel. He is conniving, conning, and sly. When one lays eyes on his pink-colored robes, one must be careful to speak.

He smirked, and I looked over my shoulder and noticed several figures walking towards us. Three tall massive shapes, and one slightly shortened, but no less impressive. When the fog and distance cleared, I could see Arman and an older version of him. Then beside them a young man, impressive, and when Urien laughed, and his eyes flashed, getting the man's eyes to flash in return, I guessed that was Adam. Urien´s cousin, Talia Pendragon´s mate, and Dragnoir King. The shorter man´s eyes were impressive, hypnotizing red. His aged hair and slight lines at the edge of his eyes didn't diminish the power he exuded.

Matteo Romano. He rose from the shadowed corner, towering, broad-shouldered, his black suit tailored with the precision of a king in exile. His face was carved in lines of command: sharp jaw, straight nose, lips that could give orders like death sentences. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in her veins. obsidian, fathomless and unreadable. Il Re di Ferro. The Blood King. Whispers rippled through the hall like wind through dry leaves. No one expected him here. No one dared to speak his name too loudly.