Tyrion Lannister Novels & Stories

, I said to myself, tapping my forehead in anger. Yes, it started with something like a Don, but the end of the name sounded like something I had heard on a TV show somewhere. I tried remembering the TV show, it was a very popular TV show, something about games and thrones - Game of Thrones, that was it. His name sounded like one of the characters, the queen with the blonde or rather white hair, Danearys. I tried to combine the two pieces of information in my head and then it struck - Donaerys. That was his name, Donaerys.

“My queen.” She let out a relieved sigh. “Hello....you are Dreg’s friend right?” He nodded and walked over to her. “My name is Levion, the second hand of Sulcar.” Ilena’s eyes scanned the tall man before her, his build was similar to that if Dreg’s but he was a bit leaner. His blonde hair swayed lightly from the breeze, sweeping over his striking blue eyes. “You seem lost.” Levion stated bluntly. Her cheeks felt hot in embarrassment. “I thought that I could take a look around....b-but I got lost....”

Whatever Maeve had bartered had to be worth it because Kaida doesn't do favors; she was a lone wolf kind of girl. At this point, Tyrion made his way into the hall, and he looked dashing in his plain shirt as he smiled at something Sun said to him. He made his way to his seat next to me, and I couldn't help but breathe him in. He smelled clean and like himself, no signs that he'd been busy. Like I cared. The relief I felt at that realization was something I immediately buried. I turned away as a voice boomed in the room, announcing the presence of the Royal Lycan King. We all stood up to pay our respects.

I shakily rose to my feet, my fingers reaching for the door handle but before I could move, a hand wrapped around my throat and slammed me back against the wall. I clawed at the fingers cutting off my air as a figure stepped into the moonlight. "Who the hell are you?" a deep voice demanded. I stared up into his face and my breath was stolen from my lungs. The sight of hard grey eyes and a face that would make any lady swoon had my heart dropping to my feet. I realized who I was staring at. It was Alastair Black… the Lycan King.

"You healed. How? Darren said the suppressant was still active. You were burning up an hour ago." He walked toward me, his bare feet silent on the pine needles. The moonlight traced the clean lines of his chest and stomach—unmarked and perfect, as if the wounds had never even happened. He stopped right in front of me and looked down. A slow, dangerous smirk curled his lips. "I'm a Lycan prince," he said quietly. "Those wounds were never real."

Ryan looks down at Lester's broken body, before frowning back over at us. "Wasn't you locked away, how did you get out?" Max asks Ryan with a frown. "We broke him out and we're talking about the lycan king," I say answering both of their questions. "The what?" Ryan asks as a look of confusion cross face. "The Lycan king, the son of the first lycan," I say. "What's a Lycan?" Ryan asks, still looking confused. I look at him for a moment seeing that he really doesn't know who I'm talking about.

Daron grit his teeth, a prominent glare on his face. So sharp Lilianna, the first queen, was reminded of him in his younger days, when he was much crueller and still as shallow. She knew the expression well, as it was his face when his pride was injured and that happened so many times to the extremely prideful man. She had once tried to count, but that ended up in him having the same expression when he found out and as a result married the second queen, Elizabeth.

Avo suggested, with that old diary in his hand. "And why is that so?" "Because of this, this is the part of the prophecy that we have had." Avo handed me an old paper. "It is not the same, but it does have some common parts with what she told us." When the moon meets the dark son A new lease of power will be undone. Sin and pain will birth another blessed one. First, Lycan will be the tyrant known to all and one. Unparalleled in strength to all and none.

Alex had exclaimed when we met face to face, "Who are you supposed to be?" "I'm Jon Snow,” said my husband straightening up to the maximum, "What are you supposed to be and why are you carrying those boxes on your legs?" "Because I'm Tyrion Lannister,” Alex snapped, pointing to a mark on his face, "The best character in Games of Thrones." Then I had witnessed one of the funniest and most absurd discussions. The truth is that now Milena didn’t want to take off her costume and wanted to dance and have everyone dance for her.

Wise One seems confused. "She's right, James is the grandson of Herbert. From the information we've gathered so far, it's only their family that bears that name in this city. And James, who is the heir to their family business, study at that Academy!" Peter backed Bridget up with some facts they've gotten. "I can't believe this!" Wise One looked shocked as he stares at Peter. "But is it possible that James is the Tyrant hybrid we've all been looking for?" "I'm not sure he is the hybrid. Both his father and mother are werewolves, so it's impossible." Peter sounds so certain.