Theon Greyjoy Novels & Stories

I whispered. It was him. The legend. Tharion Duskveil. The last living descendant of the actual Shadow God. Not just a godblood. An actual God. The most powerful godblood ever born, until Rowyn. A master of five elemental magics. Vanished after graduation. Rumored dead. A ghost. A myth. But not anymore. His silver hair gleamed in the mirror light, and his star branded hand glowed faintly as he nodded at me. “Zephyr Sylvaran,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Your blood runs with fire and loyalty. You were born for this.”

Every word from his mouth, every glance he cast her way, felt like a reminder of everything that had been lost. But she couldn’t ignore him. The Heart of the Greykin. The very name twisted in her gut. If it truly existed, it was the one thing that could change everything. If they could find it, perhaps the curse on her people could finally be broken. Perhaps her kind could stand again, no longer hunted like animals, no longer forced into the shadows. Still, she didn’t trust him. Cassian, for his part, said little on the journey. He was clearly still recovering from the injury she’d treated in the cave, though he refused to acknowledge his pain. His focus was always on the path ahead, as thou

“Did he... did the ceremony go through I ran? Is it him? Is he marking me over the woods?” “No, no,” Jax answered, and his face burnt in the flickering fire-light, his voice shook in a manner that seemed to me more than the suffering. "Thorne is a Blackthorn. They have a jagged thorny crown and it is the sign of power and blood. This... this is something else. It appears to be the leftover of the Old Gods, the sign of the First Packs. I have never even heard of this in the forbidden scrolls. It shouldn't exist, Jessica. This has not been witnessed on this earth in centuries.”

CHAPTER 8 The Son Who Forgot His Mother’s Voice POV: Elara The triumph from the boardroom felt like a cold, thin sheet of ice. It looked solid, but I was falling through it. I walked toward the family wing, my lungs rattling with every step. I didn't need a boardroom to feel powerful; I needed my son to look at me without that glint of predatory judgment. I found Arlo in the library, surrounded by old pack scrolls. He was trying to read the ancient Runes, his small brow furrowed in frustration.

One wrong moved they might lose their head. These shocking events make everyone alerted and by the sudden appearance of a beautiful stranger. She can even easily tell who was the leader of the two groups. "Stop it Dark Queen." a voice cold as an ice and strong as a command emerges in this silent atmosphere, giving everyone a tremendous chill down their spine. Following the voice, they saw a handsome young man in a black silky cloak unparalleled to anybody, with a fashionable mask and in white silky hair. Back has a crest of a terrifying Dragon, and where an Excalibur sword was located. He was followed by a guy of the same age with also a great presence.

Madchen smiled at them, they never uttered a judgemental word against her when she enacted her frenzied revenge on Jason, they just stood back and let her have her moment. The dark haired woman, Gayla, was there, along with the huge man who held her back, as well as the handsome lanky African American man, who could be no older than Madchen herself. .From what Madchen could gather, anyone who crossed these loyal mercenaries would not live to tell the tale. She shuddered at the thought of the things these people had done to avenge and save others, for they were not the gentle kind, and she was honored to be in their presence. At the head of the rectangular bamboo table sat a middle aged woman

Two proud ivory antlers jutted from his brow, the tips stained crimson from his blood. A gasp from the gates that led deeper into the sithen caused him to whirl toward the sound. Jayce stared at him in horror, as his waifish mother pushed her way around him. She took a hesitant step into the courtyard. She covered her mouth in shock. "The Horned God has risen."

she responded. The door opened and Colfre emerged. He wears a white flexible armor with the emblem of Hymir on his chest, wearing black inner clothes and a black cloak that he usually wears when he is in rotations. He has a wrapper in his left arm the same color as her peach nightgown. He put his right hand on his chest and bowed as he went near his queen’s bed. “The bath is ready, my queen.” Morrigan nodded and slid out of her bed, Colfre watched her intently. His eyes never leaving the woman in front of him, he watches as Morrigan’s long raven locks sway with her hips and her nightgown dances with the graceful strides of his queen.

The same strength sucking world she’d insisted on walking one last time before the boys got back. I looked down at her, eyes closed, teeth clenched, struggling to hang on. I balanced her silver ring, a gift from our Mother, on my knee and pulled my grey sleeve over my finger tips, dabbing at the beading sweat on her forehead. Something was happening in the Blacklands and for the first time in memory, Shades were crossing the Southern boundry in droves, bringing with them their violet sky and starless nights. They didn’t eat, they didn’t sleep, they didn’t stop. They just kept coming, pushing us back and taking our land, leaving a sea of dead bodies in their wake.

Quill ink. He still used a quill. The old ink formula. Iron salts and oak gall. When it dried, it left a brownish residue in the nail beds. It could not be washed away. Now those two brown crescents were aimed directly at her eyes. "Esteemed Grand Elders. Mother of All Wolves." The plaintiff's voice was soft. But the curved stone walls of the parliamentary dome carried every syllable to every corner of the hall. "I am Cael Grey of Greyhollow in the North. I bring bloodline documents proving my descent can be traced to Aurora Nyx. Direct descendant of the previous Mother of All Wolves."