Teen Wolf: Dragon Among Wolves

The Night King watched from his mountain, his blue eyes tracking the devastation below with an expression that might have been confusion.

He had seen his army destroyed. He had seen his White Walkers shattered like cheap glass. He had seen Allison and the others cut through his forces like a scythe through wheat.

He raised his hand. Ice formed in his palm—a spear, long and sharp. The weapon hummed with ancient, malevolent magic.

He hurled it.

The ice spear tore through the sky like a frozen comet, aimed directly at Allison.

Allison sensed the attack. She felt the surge of ice magic before she saw the spear. Her eyes glowed red as she nocked an arrow of ice and released.

The two projectiles collided mid-air, sending shockwaves rippling across the battlefield. The ice spear shattered. The ice arrow exploded. Both attacks dissolved into glittering fragments, canceling each other out—neither gaining an advantage.

The Night King's eyes widened. He had not expected anyone to block his attack.

Allison's eyes narrowed. She also hadn't expected the spear to be strong enough to stop her arrow.

"Everyone, fall back!" Jacob's voice cut through the chaos.

Allison and the others retreated to Jacob's side. The White Walkers and wights followed them.

Jacob took his sword from Stiles and stepped forward.

He raised both hands, and magma dripped from his palms into the frozen ground.

Soon, everyone saw smoke rising from the earth. The ground cracked, and magma golems began to emerge—hundreds of them. They attacked the army of the dead, shooting liquid flame from their palms and mouths, burning the wights to ash.

The wights that tried to attack the golems were burned to ash the moment they touched them.

White Walkers swung their ice blades at the golems, but the golems had no flesh to cut, no bones to break. They simply reformed, their molten bodies flowing back together, and retaliated with physical blows that shattered the Walkers' crystalline forms.

Jon watched the golems and asked, "What... what are these creatures?"

Lydia corrected, her voice calm. "Those aren't creatures. They're just puppets made from magma. They aren't alive."

"I see," Jon breathed, though the expression on his face made it clear he was still deeply confused about the golems.

The magma golems kept destroying the army of the dead. The wights and White Walkers couldn't do a thing to them.

After a while, Jacob waved his hand again. A giant space portal appeared at the side of the Army of the Dead.

From the portal, Kisarax's massive head emerged. Her green eyes scanned the battlefield, then landed on Jacob.

"Kisarax," Jacob called, a grin spreading across his face. "Drakarys."

'I always wanted to say that,' he thought.

Kisarax took a deep breath and unleashed her fire. It was devastating—a sea of flame that swept across the battlefield, consuming everything in its path. Twenty-five hundred wights were destroyed, reduced to ash in an instant. When the flames died, they left behind nothing but ash—save for the magma golems and a few White Walkers, who stood unfazed amidst the scorched earth.

Kisarax emerged fully from the portal, her massive wings blotting out the weak northern sunlight that filtered through the heavy clouds. She soared above the army of the dead, raining fire with each pass and destroying thousands more.

Bran, Meera, Benjen, the Free Folk, and the giants were shocked, their eyes going wide at the sight of the massive dragon.

Jacob raised his head and looked at the Night King.

The Night King's eyes were fixed on Kisarax, greed and desire flickering in his icy gaze. He raised his hand, forming another spear—this one larger than the first—and hurled it towards Kisarax.

Allison warned, "Jay, his ice spears are strong! Protect Kisarax!"

"She'll be fine," Jacob replied with absolute certainty. "She's stronger now that she has a bond with me. And even before she had a bond with me, her scales were strong enough to defend against an attack like that."

Just as Jacob said, the ice spear hit Kisarax's hard scales and shattered without even leaving a scratch.

Kisarax turned her massive head toward the Night King, clearly offended. She descended to a nearby mountain peak, her claws digging into the rock, and unleashed her fire breath directly at him. The flames swallowed him whole, drowning him in a sea of blazing fury.

But the Night King stood there unscathed after the fire cleared.

Kisarax let out a dissatisfied roar and was about to engage him physically, but Jacob ordered her mentally to go back to burning the army of the dead.

The Night King created a third ice spear—larger than the last—and drew back his arm to throw it toward Kisarax. But a bolt of lightning descended from the sky, striking the spear dead-on. The ice shattered into a thousand shards, and the force of the blast sent the Night King sprawling to the ground.

The Night King rose slowly, his gaze sweeping down the mountain until it found Jacob.

Jacob was looking back at him with a smirk, lightning still dancing around his fingers.

Their eyes met. For a long moment, neither moved. The battlefield seemed to hold its breath.

Then the Night King looked at Allison and the others—one by one—as if memorizing their faces. Then he turned, mounted his horse, and left with his generals.

Jacob's smirk faded as he surveyed the battlefield—now scorched, with only twenty-one White Walkers still standing. They had survived Kisarax's fire and the golems. He waved his still crackling hand and unleashed a volley of bolts that struck each Walker simultaneously. Their bodies exploded into shards of ice that glittered briefly before dissolving into nothing.

He nodded in satisfaction and made the magma golems disappear. He looked at Kisarax.

"Good job, big girl. Now go back home."

He opened a portal back to Serendell.

Kisarax let out a soft roar. Her green eyes flickered with affection as she looked at him. Then she flew back into the portal and disappeared. The portal closed behind her.

The Free Folk stared at the empty battlefield, their mouths agape.

Jacob turned to them, his voice carrying across the silence. "Karsi, Tormund, go to the surviving people from the Thenns and the other clans who refused to follow me. Tell them they are welcome to join us—as long as they accept me as their king. I will take everyone south of the Wall and come back for you."

Tormund nodded. He and Karsi departed to carry out the task.

Jacob wrapped everyone—the ninety thousand Free Folk, the giants, their animals, Allison, and the others—in his telekinesis and teleported them south of the Wall, in front of Castle Black, where his five thousand soldiers—the men who had surrendered after the Battle against Stannis—had made camp.

The Free Folk looked around, disoriented. Some fell to their knees, pressing their hands to the snow. They were on the south side of the Wall for the first time in their lives.

Jacob looked at Chris. "Make sure no conflict happens between the soldiers and the Free Folk. They are all our people now."

Chris said, "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

Jacob used his earth element to build large, simple stone longhouses where the Free Folk and giants could stay and hide from the cold.

After doing so, Jacob took a chair and sat down. He took out some food and started eating.

"Building these houses consumed a lot more of my energy than I expected," he admitted.

Allison said, "So where are we going to build a city for them?"

Jacob said, "Right now, I just want to go home and rest. Let's talk about it tomorrow."

Allison nodded. "Alright."

After eating, Jacob vanished, reappearing at Hardhome. He found Tormund and Karsi waiting.

He asked, "So, what did they say?"

Karsi pointed to five thousand women, children, and elderly people behind her. "The women and elderly from the three clans that decided to stay with the Thenns before said they would accept you as their king. They are willing to join you with their children."

Tormund pointed to two thousand women, elderly people, and children standing alone not far away. "They are from the Thenns. They refuse to follow you. Said they'd rather freeze than kneel to a foreigner."

Jacob nodded. "Well, I'm not going to force anyone to follow me. Let's go."

He wrapped Tormund, Karsi, and the six thousand Free Folk in his telekinesis and teleported them south of the Wall, leaving only the two thousand stubborn Thenns to fend for themselves.

---

South of the Wall

Jacob told Tormund and Karsi to settle the new arrivals with the rest of the Free Folk. Then he looked at Jon and said, "There are some extremists in Castle Black who hate Free Folk. Warn them not to do anything stupid, or I'll kill them. And you should be careful, or they'll stab you in the back."

Arya stepped forward, her hand resting on Needle's hilt. "I'll stay with him."

Jacob nodded. "Alright. I'll be back tomorrow." He disappeared and went back to Serendell.

Allison, Malia, Lydia, Kitty, and Stiles teleported to Serendell as well.

Victoria looked at Chris. "Aren't you coming back home?"

Chris shook his head. "Not right now. I need to make sure the Free Folk and the soldiers don't fight. I'll be back tonight."

Victoria said, "Okay. I'll see you tonight." She kissed him and teleported to Serendell.

Sansa approached her siblings, her expression softening. "Rickon. Bran. You'll have to stay here tonight with Jon and Arya. I'll see you tomorrow."

Rickon's face fell. "Can't you take us to Serendell?"

Sansa shook her head. "No, I can't. Only Jay can take people there. I'm sorry."

Jon looked at Rickon and Bran apologetically. "It's probably my fault he didn't take you there. I shouldn't have grabbed his arm and questioned his decision earlier."

Sansa advised, "Don't do that again. And you should apologize to him tomorrow."

Jon sighed. "I will."

Sansa said, "He's not hard to get along with. Stiles calls him names and jokes with him all the time, and Jay doesn't get angry at all. He treats Stiles like a brother. Arya does the same. He probably didn't care about you questioning his decision. What he didn't like was you grabbing his arm like that in front of people. So just apologize and try to get to know him well before you judge him again."

Chris said, "Let me give you a piece of advice. Although he won't kill you for your sister's sake, don't ever get on his bad side. I did that once, and let me tell you—that little punk is pure evil."

Arya smirked. "What did he do to you?"

Chris remembered the beating he took from Jacob and the expired Senzu Bean's side effects. He shivered. "I don't want to talk about it." He left quickly.

Sansa said, "Alright, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Rickon said, "Wait, Sansa. Can you give me some snacks, please?"

Sansa asked, "Like what?"

Rickon said, "Something sweet. And can you give me a TV?"

Sansa smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

She disappeared and came back a few moments later, handing Rickon all kinds of snacks and a tablet loaded with cartoons. She showed him how to use it, then kissed his forehead and departed for Serendell.

---

Serendell

Jacob had dinner with his family—a pleasant evening filled with laughter, good food, and the warmth of loved ones. Afterward, he stayed in the living room with his wives, talking about the battle against the army of the dead and watching TV. A few hours later, he retired to his room.

Sansa followed not long after. She paused outside his door, heart pounding. She wore a dark, form-fitting jumpsuit with boots that hugged her calves, her red hair loose around her shoulders. The outfit was completely foreign to her—tight, revealing, nothing like the modest gowns she'd worn her entire life.

Lydia had helped her into it, grinning the whole time. "He'll love it," she'd promised. "Jacob has a thing for cosplay."

Sansa hadn't understood what cosplay meant until Lydia explained. She still didn't fully get it. But she wanted to apologize for what Jon had done.

Jacob was propped against his pillows, about to sleep, when his eyes went wide. He sat up so quickly he nearly fell off the bed and stared at Sansa—who was cosplaying as Black Widow.

"Oh, I love what I'm seeing." His grin was immediate, appreciative. "What's the occasion?"

Sansa fidgeted, her cheeks flushing. "I wanted to apologize for Jon. And... Lydia mentioned you enjoy this sort of thing. She helped me dress."

"Don't worry about Jon." Jacob waved dismissively. "I know he's a self-righteous fool. We already have one of those in the family. I'm not mad."

Sansa sighed with relief. "Thank you. Since you're not mad, can I change? These clothes make me feel... so embarrassed."

"No!" Jacob's voice was so sharp that Sansa flinched. Then he softened, a sly grin replacing the urgency. "In fact, I am mad at Jon. And if you don't cosplay for me once a week, I will kill him."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Fine. If you want me to wear these shameful things, just say so. But only once a month."

"Deal." Jacob stood, approaching her. "Now, Miss Romanoff, I have some very important information for you. But you'll have to get it out of me using your spy skills."

"Spy skills?"

"Yes. And I mean slutty spy skills."

Sansa blinked. "This Romanoff you mentioned... that's who I'm dressed as?"

Jacob gasped dramatically. "Don't tell me you're cosplaying as Natasha Romanoff, but you have no idea who she is!"

"Sorry. I truly don't."

"Fine, fine." Jacob waved it off. "Let's say you've lost your memories, and I have to remind you who you used to be."

He stepped closer. "First: Natasha isn't shy. She's very confident. She takes the initiative."

Sansa swallowed hard. "I already don't like where this is going."

Then Jacob started telling Sansa to act and do things that had nothing to do with Natasha Romanoff at all. Despite her shyness, she played along. And as the night deepened, Sansa found herself enjoying it more than she'd expected—and discovering parts of herself she'd never known existed.

After a few hours of fun and lovemaking, they lay tangled together, Sansa's head resting on Jacob's chest as he gently played with her hair, a satisfied smile on his lips.

Sansa traced the lines of his jaw with her fingertip. Her thoughts wandered—back to Winterfell, to the life she'd once been groomed for, then to King's Landing and all the pain she'd suffered there. But then she smiled, remembering the day she first met Jacob and how everything had changed for the better since then.

She raised her head and pressed a kiss to his lips, then settled back against his chest, closed her eyes, and let sleep claim her with that smile still on her face.

Jacob pulled her closer and fell asleep as well.

To be continued... 😊

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