Oberyn Martell Viper Novels & Stories

calculation. “He’ll die,” Nyxoria whispered back with what she saw in Tharros expression. “Or worse.” Down in the arena, Oberon walked forward and stopped once he was in the arena, his hands glowing with his ancient Fae fire. Golden patterns etched themselves across his arms like veins of fire. He summoned his sword, a long, thin weapon made from an enchanted crystal, pulsing with raw magic. “I am King Oberon, born of the direct descendent of the Fae, protector of my people and lands and I am their King." he declared. “And I challenge you, Vyrelen the Nightweaver, in an open combat.”

It spins and takes flight, Vulcan turns in time to see it take to the skies. “Ivor, thanks, Little wolf be safe” Vulcan says, pecking my lips before shifting mid run into Pyrrus, his dragon is massive, far bigger and imposing compared to any the rest. I watch as he takes flight and goes after Ivor. I tun in time to see Denu taking hold of Morgana, her black shadows doing their work.

Her gentle eyes stayed on Kael until the light in them faded away. His dad let out a roar that shook the walls. He changed into the biggest silver wolf Kael had ever seen, fur shining like moonlight. He fought like a storm, biting and throwing enemies across the room. But then the leader stepped forward. Vortigern. Tall, cold, with a deep scar on his face and a black sword that seemed to drink the light. One swing of that sword made Kael’s dad stumble. The second swing brought the great wolf down. He changed back to human as he fell, eyes open but empty.

Sand spiraled upward across the empty training grounds. Power exploded outward from him so intensely my body vibrated beneath it. Marten looked terrified. “He’s awake,” he whispered. I forced myself to stay calm despite blood now dripping harder from my nose. “Call him again.” His chest rose heavily. “Leah…” “Do it.” The wind roared louder around us. Then finally, “Varkai!” The moment the name left his mouth, the entire valley shook. The clouds spun unnaturally above us. A violent force burst outward from Marten’s body, whipping through the training grounds like a storm breaking free after centuries trapped underground.

“Apparently, I’m full of surprises today.” The door exploded inward. Vaelor filled the frame, an embodiment of living fury, all three bloodlines surfaced at once. Terralis scales rippled across his shoulders and arms. Thalorian precision sharpened every line of his face. The old sky-serpent heritage turned his horns molten crimson and lengthened his tail into a whipping blade of shadow and silver. His slit irises burned like twin suns. Blood already streaked his cheek from the bond’s backlash, and more covered him, fresh and dripping from the operatives he had torn apart in the corridors to reach this room. Blood clung to his robes in dark patches, splattered across his chest and arms, his h

I moved. I stepped behind the stranger, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as my body sought shelter where my mind hadn’t yet caught up. My brother’s hostility burned too close too familiar. The stranger didn’t push me away. “Ryder,” he said calmly, without looking at Nicholas. “Loworth Ryder of New Orleans.” The name rippled through the crowd. My stomach dropped. “Are you a warrior?” I whispered, my voice barely holding. “You’ll find out soon,” he replied coolly. Then quieter meant only for me, “Prey eye.”

and went back into the room before a face could be seen. Nothing ordered. Nothing asked for. Reaching for the glass slowly. The smell arrived before it lifted. Clove smoke. Mint. Thumb running around the side of the glass. Nail catching something. A rough mark cut into the crystal. Turning the glass just a little. A snake. Rough and quick like done in a hurry. Coiled up on itself. Every drop of blood went cold. Syris was here. Alive. Varek had lifted him off the floor by his throat in front of five hundred people and he was alive and in this room right now.

A great serpent appeared, it’s length unaccounted for, it’s color green, it’s mouth glistened with red and green liquid, a terrible sight. “A beast!” Zephyr immediately started to run. The beast was named Emerald Serpent, although it was a tier one beast, it’s strength was amazing, and very venomous. Just a drop was enough to kill a man. Moreover, the Serpent had iron-like scales. Unless the opponent was an Agility fighter, no one had any chance against it. The thought of the Serpent’s power only hastened Zephyr’s Lightfoot.

I took a deep breath and continued, “But I do have one favor to ask. Can I please have some wolfsbane?” She looked back up, meeting my eyes, studying me, and cocking her head to the side. While she was human, Hugo told me that she knew about our kind. He and my mom were not the only werewolves she employed. “What do you need wolfsbane for?” “It’s personal.” I wasn’t telling her shit. “What form do you want it in?” “What forms does it come in?” “The two most common are dehydrated and a concentrated liquid—usually we sell the liquid form in darts.”

"Bring me her alive!" The woman submerged in the wine inside the tub, emerged again from between the sovereign's legs, trying to suck in a breath of air. "Help me imbeciles!" yelled Guildor at his acolytes rising from the tub. His voluminous body dripped huge amounts of water. He leaned with his right hand on his black staff made of ebony with a silver hilt in the shape of a knob. A medallion embedded with a black opal in the shape of a half moon hung from his neck. He had snatched both from his father long ago.