Novelas y relatos de Theon Greyjoy

the man said as he stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, like most dragonkin with Sire blood were, I reckoned he was in his mid-thirties or so. He had light blue eyes and dark brown hair that hung down to his shoulders. His clothes were expensive and his hands looked like they had seen plenty of fights. “The infamous Ryder Grey, elite hunter of the supernatural world, we meet at last,” he said as he sat down on the chair that Clifford had placed in front of me. “I assume you’re Carlson,” I said to him and he smiled at me.

As the inevitability of a huge battle loomed, a thunderous voice boomed throughout the area. "Don't you dare lay a hand on Adrian!" Jaxon, the barbaric's grand priest, stepped out from the void. His half-immortal aura rippled through the void as he positioned himself before Adrian. An icy gaze appeared from his eyes as he looked at Grenn and Baldwin in the distance. Since his emergence from Northsea, Jaxon had relied on his divine senses to monitor changes on the battlefield. Initially elated to find that the fallen individual was Horra instead of Adrian, his joy quickly turned to concern upon sensing Baldwin and Grenn's presence.

The guy flinched back in fear. His mind recalled the lost battle. And suddenly he realized where he was and how he ended up there. "S...Silvia?" The man tried and pretended to be unaware but Hunter wasn't having it. With a low growl, his claws extended out and he grabbed that guy's throat letting his claws pierce his skin causing blood to ooze out. "She... She was a seer who helped Alpha Alonso win all the battles," The guy said fearfully.

The Veilborn magic had no mercy. It didn't care about allies or enemies. It cared only about survival. The clearing twisted. The air grew thicker. Reality itself frayed at the seams. I stumbled forward, trying to rein it back in—trying to remember who I was. **Thorold.** Son of Ryker and Zara. Alpha Heir of Stormfang. *Not* a weapon. *Not* a monster. I closed my eyes, forcing the thought through the torrent. "I am not theirs," I whispered.

; Seer-Lira trailing ethereal, Caelum’s cousin veiled in silver gossamer, third-eye tattoo on forehead pulsing questing-white, blind-gaze piercing. Thorne halted thunderous, nostrils flaring storm-flame reek, voice gravel-roar: “Blackwood! This disturbance *reeks* of your whelp-spawn—rifts cracking *my* border holds like eggshells, shadows spilling wolf-blood! Surrender heirs *and* whatever anchor they’ve forged, or we invoke full council sanction—packs claim your university by rite!”

What unseen hand had placed Jace into this lineage? Then there was the Chevre. Damon Chevre, the only son, the dark spark igniting old wars. The man who killed Alice Grey—a blow aimed to sever the fragile alliance between the Chevre and the Bishop families. The blood feud that followed marked a new chapter. Damon’s death at the hands of Jace Grey was more than vengeance—it was a statement. Jace, the outsider turned keystone, had become a pivotal force—both protector and avenger. Not just a Grey by name, but a shadow lurking between them all, holding pieces of a future no one could yet see.

She tiptoed towards him, leaned forward and looked over his shoulder and gasped in fright, breaking his concentration. He quickly spun round and hugged her face to his chest to stop her from seeing the ghastly sight before them but it was too late. She had already seen it. A skeleton with bits of clothing on it in tatters and a huge part of it's skull missing. On it ring finger, it wore a gold ring with De Luca written on it.

A tall, massive figure was standing in the shadows. He was dressed in tactical gear, his face half-hidden by a mask. This was Kael, a Sthor warrior. Grey had contacted him and even though he was hesitant from the beginning to help, he did. At least because of grey. I aproached him, and he looked me up and down with no interest. "You're late, alpha.." I swallowed hard, trying to catch my breath from that distant run and long wolf speeding. "The smoke took longer to clear than I thought," I rasped, .

Out of nowhere, a bone arrow sliced through the air and struck his chest with a sharp hiss. The arrow, upon contact with Jim's blood, glowed a sinister red. His face contorted in pain, and suddenly, his grip failed him as he plummeted from the sky. I dashed forward, my heart racing, and leaped to cover Jim with my body. The Haunts erupted into mocking laughter. "Jim, we've taken apart the bones of the mortal who wanted you dead and crafted them into these arrows. Take one more step and we'll pin you down in front of your own troops!"

Along the ruined street, flickering billboards looped the Guild’s broadcast: “The Purification Operation was successful. The Blood King has been eliminated. Traitor Evelyn Cross is wanted across Valenfort.” Adrian shut the screen off, voice raspy. “We can’t stay here. Marcus transferred command to someone new named Aster Crowe . They call him the Gray Angel of the Guild.” Evelyn looked up. “Crowe? Never heard of him.” “I have,” Adrian said grimly. “He’s a hybrid born from a failed experiment. The Guild took him in, trained him, then purged the vampire blood from his system. But everyone knows… once blood turns black, it never truly turns white again.”