Download free sadie sins white wolf vale

Werewolves had a magic to their cursed forms and physical attack alone could not harm them when they were transformed. Defenses and ways to single out a werewolf in the light of day and far from the full moon were adapted over time. They had even started working on potions in the hopes of finding a cure for the cursed, and if not that, at least a way to keep them from their beserker, howler ways when the moon did hit them.

The shifter wolf packs had come a long way in a short amount of time and while they had struggled to survive, the werewolf population had started to balance from their full out murderous assault and began to police themselves as only their kind could.

Leaders had risen up among them, more intelligent and in control of their instincts than the untamed cursed. They had formed gangs that controlled territories, demanding loyalty from the werewolves and humans that if not given was met with ruthless, joyful violence.

The shifters had not stopped their war for survival but they enjoyed the lull while the werewolf gangs fought each other for dominance of the cities. All of them were accomplished sorcerers, powerful in magic in a way few shifters could claim. Their days were filled with magic, strategies, and patrols, ever watching the moon and anticipating the bloody fight to come.

Vale had one of the most powerful shifter packs around and Heller had once been second in command to his charismatic alpha. But that had been before the murder of Lorna by the werewolves, before he had been falsely convicted and imprisoned. Heller had no idea where he stood with his pack anymore or the enigmatic man he called alpha. Someone had taken the time to preserve the hideous piece, the strange distortion of human and wolf face twisted in its final death throws.

No older than a moon. Even that dreadful ficus that you refused to let die. But I thought you could settle in, get caught up with the pack for now. Heller growled, trying to pull away, only to have Vale hold his arm tighter. I… Well, I actually might need your assistance for something. Vale raised a pale eyebrow, releasing the brunette once they reached the kitchen. The room was huge, tiled and filled with stainless steel appliances to go with the three large refrigerators and walk-in freezer.

Shifters required a lot of food to handle their advanced metabolism. Small, likely a runt if anything. Food had been sparse the last month, nonexistent his last week running for his life.

He had made it home. Eyebrow again raised, Vale stared curiously at the small vial, eventually popping the lid to give the contents a hesitant sniff. Stronger than a normal bitch scent? Is he in our territory? Heller grinned, his fangs glinting as he leaned down next to the panting man and met his gaze. His parents are dead.

Lives with some dick that thinks shifters are the devil. Vale furrowed his brow, trying to focus on what the brunette was saying.

We always collect our own. Wanted it so bad. Vale whimpered, turning his head so he was face to face with the brunette. How much you need it at times. Do you want that, Vale? Do you want me? His time in Ghost had made him more instinctive, wilder, more wolfish. After Jon was brought back it was as if he was free from his chains and the only thing that had remained constant at the time was to save Arya and look out for his daughter.

Jon smiled as he walked towards his daughter who was a year old and raised her from the crib as Rickon and Sansa watched him. Jon ran his hand through his hair, his brother used to call him the father at times as Jon shared a resemblance to Ned Stark.

When the Stonemen brought his brother over along with Ser Davos, he had been wild and did not come close to anyone aside from the Wildling Osha who Tormund had recognized. Shaggydog would snarl and bare his teeth at anyone who would come close to Rickon. It had taken Ghost to tame his wild brother with some persuasion and force.

His brother was still getting used to the life at Winterfell but the Northern lords despite the fact of his brother being trueborn Stark had known that Rickon was not ready to be crowned as a King. If Lady Catelyn would have seen Jon now, her nightmares would have been true. The cooing noise of his daughter broke Jon of his chain of thoughts as Jon placed a kiss on her forehead and looked at Sansa. When Jon wore it for the first time many Northern lords looked as if they had seen a ghost as it reminded them of Ned Stark himself.

I will give this crown up for you hmm. During my time in Vale, I know what living a life as a bastard was like. I spent a year living as such and you have lived your life. I regret it you know; you and Arya had always been close while I tried to please mother. I wish I had known better then. He said that the lone wolf dies and the pack survives. I failed him but I will not fail you or Rickon, we are the last of his children and we will stay together. She watched as the doors to the Great Hall open.

The lords and ladies of the North were in attendance to see something that has not happened in three hundred years before Torrhen Stark surrendered his crown. A King in the North crowned in Winterfell. Normally Barbrey would have expected the crowning to happen in the sight of a weirwood tree but this was not just concerning the North.

Barbrey looked at her right as she saw pompous knights of the Vale being humbled and sullen against the proud Northern lords. She eyed Lord Petyr Baelish who tried to hide his emotions but could see the flicker of disappointment on his face as the Bastard boy walked in the center flanked with his half brother and half-sister behind and the black direwolf and the boy's white direwolf in the front and two giants on the side holding a giant staff.

The boy had no crown yet, her eyes turned to the maester who held that crown currently. The two wolves stood in front as the Stark girl walked forth and took the crown from the Maester. If only the Tully bitch could see this now, Barbrey smirked inwardly. There was the throne of Winter in the center elevated ten feet above and two more seats flanking left and right five feet above for the two Stark children.

The two giants stood at the edges watching over the lords and ladies in attendance. They wore leather clothes and were a hairy lot. The boy had told that they preferred to be shy but those two giants were looking out for the boy. As the Stark girl approached the boy, he knelt so that the girl could place the crown on the boy's head. The boy stood and nodded to his half-sister and brother and looked at the crowd once before he saw the throne of winter.

Babrey could see the hesitancy in the boy for a moment but he slowly walked up the steps as did his family. The white wolf sat in front of the throne while the black one sat on the right along with young Rickon. The boy turned around, moved his coat, and slowly sat which signaled his siblings to take a seat as well. Barbrey found herself saying those words before she stopped and watch to get a measure of others. To her surprise, everyone in the room was chanting the words even the Lords of the Vale.

The two giants were beating their staffs on the ground to match the rhythm of their chants and out of sudden both wolves broke into a howl, though the white one didn't seem to make any sound. To Barbrey's surprise, this whole scene made her feel with awe and fear of the boy who held Wildlings, Northmen, and Knights of Vale together.

He looks like Brandon, Barbery thought. The boy held the impromptu court at the time after the fall of Boltons. Barbrey was half-crazed when she saw them, she squirmed back into the cell. It took the known face of Lady Maege and her brother Rickard to bring some semblance of sanity back.

She would refute any treatments from the grey rats so the bastard brought a healer from the Wildling camp. The man gave her some herbs that worked the same way Milk of the Poppy would. She healed and she watched while her brother bickered of the taxes that were imposed upon them for siding with Roose Bolton. The number of men that Barbrey had withheld also came into note but she simply mentioned that it was to keep the Greyjoy and Ironborn away.

Many Northern lords and ladies in attendance saw Ned Stark in the boy, but Barbrey saw someone far better than the dour cunt. She saw as the Lords and Ladies pay the king obeisance as they swore their fealty to him as he was seated on the throne of Winter with the White Wolf on his staring everyone in the Great Hall getting a measure. Barbrey had to admit that the boy looked like a true King of Winter, his long Stark look betraying no emotions. He was a Stark through and through but his facial features were softer.

She observed as the boy listened to the grievances of the smallfolk and the lords alike as the winter was upon them all. Barbrey recalled how the boy showed his scars to everyone along with the undead Wight. Barbrey felt chills running down her spine as she saw the boy hacking off parts of the creature who still moved and showed no signs of slowing despite being cut apart.

A part of Barbrey had been pleased when the council of Northern lords chose the bastard over the young Rickon Stark. She had only wished that the Tully bitch would have been present to see her boy and girl being put aside for the bastard.

From the corner, she saw a small man walking towards her. He had brown hair with a hint of grey and eyes that shown conflict. Barbrey spotted the sigil of the Reeds and surmised the man was Howland Reed. The man who had survived and had returned North while her husband laid dead and buried somewhere in the Southern Desert. She had sworn that his bones would not pass her lands while she was there yet she failed. It was as if the man gazed at her and frowned.

The man seemed pained. He is not the king by right but he is the king we need to see the long night through. Tell me, my lady knowing what you know now of the threat, will you let the past judge our future? The lords see Eddard in the boy, but there is a good amount of Brandon in him as well.

Not in the temperament but in skills and guile. The boy has the best of both his father and uncle. The wildlings love the boy. After all his son was killed by such creature. The king was seated in the big chair at the head of the table. The white wolf was not present in his solar. He had his bronze crown mixed with weirwood. He wore a leather tunic and had his hair tied back. There was a gash on his neck and a scar running across his brows that exemplified his battles.

I have invited you here to speak of the affairs of the realms. Lord Umber knows of his escape and must know more about this Brotherhood without Banners but lord Jason tells that the fall of Freys has been attributed to them. News of the Starks claiming the North would have certainly reached the ears of Cersei Lannister and the crown.

Lord Wyman here informs me that the Queen is facing a trial against the Faith. The Lannisters may be distracted but sooner or later they will turn their eyes North which is why Lord Howland and Lord Rickard you will supply with men to hold Moat Cailin against our Southern forces.

Whatever the tales you heard are not completely true. The giants prefer to eat leaves and vegetables. They are shy folk so see to it that your men do not bother them or enrage them unnecessarily. They speak Old Tongue, so I will make sure that the captains holding the moat are taught of the tongue as well. I only ask you to keep your minds open to trade in furs and woods from your land.

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