Aerion 'Brightflame' Targaryen died drinking wildfire, believing it was the only way he could become the dragon he was destined to be and finally shed the fleshy body that held his stolen divinity. Great was his shock when he opened his eyes again, his throat still burning and the sensation of fire consuming his organs, in the arms of the woman who had heard so many stories: Rhaenyra Targaryen. "My little Aerion," she had called him. And Aerion understood that this was a second chance granted by the Gods. If he eliminated the rot that had tried to seize the Throne, perhaps the dragons would be saved, and he would finally achieve the glory he so longed for. For that, he had to choose a side, a simple task for him. "I'd rather drown in the bathtub than be in the same place as that whore Hightower," he had said, disgusted and filled with raw, unadulterated hatred. Thus, Aerion 'Brightflame' Targaryen's loyalty had been decided. Aerion would swear fealty to Rhaenyra. Or rather, to Jacaerys Velaryon. But who would have thought that a mere weak Heir could have control over a monster like Aerion? HOTD x AKOTSK

Stiles Stilinski estaba acostumbrado a los problemas sobrenaturales, pero morir y despertar en el cuerpo de Rhaenyra Targaryen definitivamente no estaba en su agenda. Ahora, atrapado en una corte llena de víboras, vestidos incómodos y tíos peligrosamente atractivos, Stiles tiene que usar su hiperactividad y su paranoia para algo útil: evitar una guerra civil. Adiós a la dócil princesa. Poniente no está preparado para una Delicia del Reino que responde con sarcasmo, investiga con pizarras de hilos rojos y trata a los dragones como si fueran cachorros de la manada. La Danza de Dragones acaba de cambiar de ritmo... y Stiles lleva la batuta.