Rhaenyra Targaryen Novels & Stories

The Nester Clan are the grey dragons. Raphael found his mother lying in a pool of her own blood and a girl is holding the sword with which Irina was stabbed. That girl is bathed with the blood of his mother. Raphael became furious. He would have killed that girl then and there, but he need the name of the poison which she used on that sword to paralyze Irina.

I shook her, and tried calling her several times, but there was no response. I sighed in disbelief and a bit of an annoyance. Then, all of the blue, her shades fell to the ground. As I looked intensely into her closed eyes, I realized that this very woman was the very woman that made a huge impact on tonight's event. It was no one else other than Aviana Quincy.

Gwen I and aunt Maya a walked into the expansive ballroom in excitement. We had been invited to the alpha's birthday . I had never set eyes on the Lycan king , but rumors had it he was charming. I could feel all eyes resting on me as I walked in locking arms with aunt Maya. I was nervous. "Take a deep breath child. " . She walked over to the queen's table to pay her regards . I followed suit. The queen was seated in a velvet draped table. wore a bright fur cape, her hair was wrapped in a big bun. She had a stern face, squared chin, a sharp jawline, and a pointy nose. She looked hard to please.

It was not Acheron. "Was it Nevil then? He managed to calm me?" She was far too perplexed. Particularly considering that it wasn't a full moon, she didn't anticipate it would happen yet again. It's been a few months since she didn't experience almost losing control of her strength. She finished her bath and changed her clothes. She headed next to the dining hall, where Sera was waiting silently, even though she wasn't sure if she would go with her. Raenerys silently sat down on a chair in front of her sister, and she peacefully ate her share of breakfast. After that, she left the lair and went out of town. Raenerys knew that she already knew what she was going to do later, so maybe that's wh

At the far end of the courtyard stood an older man with a scarred face and sharp eyes, Lord Dain. He stepped forward. “You claim to be the heir?” Rael stood tall. “I am.” Dain studied him, then scoffed. “We heard rumors of a lost prince. But rumors mean nothing in war.” Rael’s gaze remained steady. “Then let me prove it.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out a pendant, the sigil of the Cavareth line, an artifact only the royal bloodline could possess. Dain’s expression shifted. He reached for the pendant, fingers brushing its surface. Then, slowly, he nodded.

Then he gave a slow nod to his men. He looked at Sergio with unbridled hatred. "This isn't over, not by a long short. I will be back to claim what is mine." One by one, they backed off. Fading into smoke. Into retreat. ************************************************** The silence that followed was deafening. Rosana stood alone in the center of the destroyed hallway, her dress streaked with soot and blood. A shard of broken mirror leaned against the wall nearby, reflecting pieces of her—sharp, splintered, unrecognizable.

From the shadows of the ruined colonnade, a figure stepped forward draped in red silk, her eyes like twin embers in the dim. Rowena. Alive. Whole. Smiling. “Lovely coronation,” she purred. “But, sister, did you really think you were the only queen?” The ground trembled. The fires shifted, turning black once more. Matteo reached for his weapon. Bianca raised her blade. But Rowena only laughed, soft and deadly. “You fought a war for the living. I command the dead. The real war,” she whispered, “starts now.” The sky cracked open lightning raining blood.

The other six chairs surrounding it were already occupied. "Alpha Ciaran," said a dry, feminine voice. It was Amyra, the vampire queen. Her cold and calculating red eyes locked onto mine with amusement. "Countess Amyra." I bowed my head slightly, taking a seat at the table. Across from me, Zolaiah grunted in acknowledgement. The ogre king didn’t like formalities. His tusks jutted out from chapped lips, and his enormous bulk made his chair creak under him. "Let us begin," Rune Elarion, Princess Regent of the Bleeding Throne, said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.