Spartan In Westeros Novels & Stories

After eating and drinking their fill, Alanna grew tipsy and began sharing everything that had happened lately. She rambled about small things, like how I bought a new game console for the house, and large things, like our arguments, and how I refused yesterday to give up the championship for her. I had never known she could talk so freely. Jack listened patiently, then looked at her gravely. “I didn’t want to say this, but I don’t think Lewis loves you,” he said quietly. Alanna froze. Jack continued, “No one understands men better than another man. Only when a man doesn’t love enough does he hesitate between a championship and the woman he loves.

A sudden painful pull ripped through my stomach and I gasped as lightning flashed in the sky above. "Useless, pathetic and wolf less." Zarian said, his eyes glinting with scorn. "You can’t even withstand the small amount of my powers that any wolf would be able to." I'm not weak. I am not pathetic! "I don’t blame Theon for leaving you, no one wants such a weak woman by their side." I wasn’t weak or useless! "Trash."

Muscular and resolute, Liana’s steely gaze hinted at the countless battles she had endured, and her presence exuded an aura of raw, unbridled power. Next to Liana stood Rowan Blackthorn, a silent yet menacing figure known as the Shadow Reaper. His dark armor seemed to blend into the shadows, his movements quiet but deadly. Rowan was an assassin by trade, his abilities in stealth and precision killing unmatched in all of Somerland. He held a scythe in his hands that sent shivers to whomever looked at it.

“Stop acting cool. You are one of the enemies I have, and you know that.” Before I could say more than one word, I felt a surge of energy in me. I shut my eyes as I was unable to get over it. It was stronger than that of a beta like him. “I felt this surge of energy when I woke up in the hospital. It's an Alpha energy and not a Beta." I thought and opened my eyes. “I believed it was Prince Kelvin—and Tyrion is a Beta and not an Alpha.” I blinked as he took away his palm from my body….his perspirations dropping on the floor.

He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. “A Spartan’s strength is in his mind, not his arm,” he said, his voice low and sharp as flint. “I’ve seen boys like you on training grounds, all spit and polish. I’ve also seen them piss themselves and run when a basilisk’s venom melted their armor. Tell me, boy, have you ever held your intestines in with one hand while you used the other to kill the beast that tried to eat them? Or do you only practice stabbing straw men?” The young warrior’s face turned a blotchy red. His friends stared into their mugs. The entire tavern felt the sudden drop in temperature, the air thick with the unspoken threat.

"I trusted in his wisdom and your wiles, and what did they avail me, smuggler? The storm lords sent you packing. I went to them a beggar and they laughed at me. Well, there will be no more begging, and no more laughing either. The Iron Throne is mine by rights, but how am I to take it? There are four kings in the realm, and three of them have more men and more gold than I do. I have ships . . . and I have her. The red woman. Half my knights are afraid even to say her name, did you know? If she can do nothing else, a sorceress who can inspire such dread in grown men is not to be despised. A frightened man is a beaten man. And perhaps she can do more. I mean to find out. "When I was a lad I fo

And there, ahead, where the valley narrowed into the mouth of the pass itself, was a scene of tense stalemate. On one side of a rushing, glacial river, a makeshift camp flew the banners of several eastern lowland lords—a silver gryphon, a green serpent, a black tower. Perhaps two hundred men-at-arms were arrayed in disciplined ranks, their pikes gleaming dully in the overcast light. At their head, on a sleek chestnut horse, was a man in polished half-plate: Lord Gryffen, his face handsome and cruel under a trimmed beard.

Before Elara could reply, Lord Caspian approached, this time accompanied by another tall, imposing figure. Caspian bowed deeply, his kind eyes sincere. “Lady Elara, Lady Lyra. Allow me to properly introduce myself beyond fleeting dances. I am Caspian Vale, heir to the Eastern Ridge Pack. My family has guarded the borderlands for generations — quiet, stable, honorable. I seek no conquest, only a true mate who carries light in her eyes. I have watched you during these celebrations and found myself captivated. My intentions remain pure: courtship, protection, and a future away from… whatever shadows seem to haunt you here.”