Stannis Baratheon Novels & Stories

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Selene in that dress. Selene’s hands around his neck. Selene’s laugh—genuine, unguarded, the kind of laugh that made him forget, for one stolen moment, that he was the CEO of a billion-dollar corporation and the future Alpha of a pack that expected him to marry someone else. He'd spent all his life learning to control every impulse, every instinct. His father had made sure he understood that. An Alpha does not react. An Alpha controls. An Alpha must not show weakness.

he explained. "Between the warring packs, are you sure there was no interference from the witches?" I looked at him intently. "You should investigate further. Because that's what happened here." "I have good reason to say that, Your Highness." He bowed his head slightly. "I was looking forward to this meeting, but our king was not honest. That's all I have to say." "Very well. Thank you for your report, Barrett." I chuckled at the mention of his name. "Forgive my impudence. Your name is similar to Beta of the Royal Blue Pack."

If we ever found ourselves on opposing sides of a conflict, he wouldn't think twice about crushing me. The four kings and their heirs occupy the rest of the chairs: Pakstan of the North with Pharaoah, Theo of the South with Thorn, River of the East, and me, and lastly, Nathan of the fuckin' West with his second son, Elliot. The latter gives me a scowl, and I return it without blinking. He is a little younger than father in age, but he is still tall, and his grey eyes are exceedingly penetrating. Without sure, he is the one who proposed Bella be wed to one of his kids, who are more repulsive than he is.

"Pylos, read it to him." "Your Grace." The maester took up one of the parchments and cleared his throat. "All men know me for the trueborn son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honor of my House that my beloved brother Robert, our late king, left no trueborn issue of his body, the boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being abominations born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Jaime the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord, under the sign and

The type that no amount of biting my tongue would quiet. I sat up slowly, trembling with cold and something nastier. Cora sighed dramatically. "Oh, she's alive," she said, turning her back on me and heading toward the bed. "Well, Baron says you have to go. You're dulling the vibe and we don’t like it." Baron's voice cut through the silence like a whip. "Don't just stand there like a lamb for the slaughter, Eleanor," he said, “Get out.” I turned slowly to look at him. He was on the bed, shirtless, with scratches on his chest and a smirk on his face.

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.

And in the middle, on a stone bridge that spanned the torrent, stood Leigh’s father. Lord Valerius was a tall, lean man like a hardened sapling. He wore no armor, only a worn leather jerkin over a grey tunic. His hair was more silver than black, tied back. He held no weapon. He stood alone on the bridge, facing Gryffen’s army, a solitary figure of calm authority.

Victor immediately ran to get the pure white outfit. Costumes with capes with very large hats are often seen in Western fantasy stories; people wearing them will have extremely high figurative character. Cyrus nonchalantly accepted it, then walked towards the van, didn't take a few steps, turned around and called to Claude, "Still not coming over to help?" He didn't know what Cyrus was going to do, so he just followed him into the car. Cyrus ordered the props staff to bring black ink, poured it into a basin, then dipped his robe in it, and ordered Claude to stir with chopsticks.

"Pylos, read it to him." "Your Grace." The maester took up one of the parchments and cleared his throat. "All men know me for the trueborn son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honor of my House that my beloved brother Robert, our late king, left no trueborn issue of his body, the boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being abominations born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Jaime the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord, under the sign and

He tossed Styria into the wall and she quickly became unconscious, he broke Orion's back rendering him immobile and very quickly overpowered the rest. "You all had me going there for a moment", Baratheon said as he grabbed Rey by the neck. "It's you, isn't it? You are the moon alpha" Rey gasped for breath as he choked her. "Let her go", Luna said as she attacked Baratheon but he sent her flying with a single punch. "You are so weak and incapable. You led them here you little trash and they followed", Baratheon as he mocked Rey. "An alpha like Lucius wasted his time with you when he could be with us"