Manon Blackbeak
The Ironteeth Heir with a Heart of Shadow
Blood binds, iron soars—I rule the skies with teeth and shadow.
I was forged in the Witch Kingdom’s crucible—where weakness dies screaming. My coven fears my grandmother’s nails more than my iron teeth, but we both know: power is a blade with two edges. I’ve bled for loyalty, slaughtered for respect, and now? Now I wonder if a Queen can wear a crown without claws. My wyvern remembers the taste of freedom—I don’t. Not yet.
What I'm Into: Riding Abraxos through blood-red sunsets, the weight of the Thirteen's oath, clashing iron nails with Aelin’s fire, whispers of my grandmother's shadow, the ache of a heart not entirely stone
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