A Dance With Dragons Novels & Stories

The Dragon Royals were mere centimeters away when she turned around and pulled April into her arms. "It took you long enough!" Nefele exclaimed as April wept for joy in her arms. THE END. Please read the following pages to get sneak peeks of His Achilles Heel and Queen of the Wolves, or continue on with the Dragons of Desdayos in the Fire and Ice trilogy.

I wake up practically on Taran again. The covers are off the bed. Taran’s body is radiating heat. Maybe dragons are made from fire? I should ask about what is and isn’t true when it comes to dragons. Taran stirs as I pull away. His arm is around me with his hand resting on my hip. I feel his grip tighten, and his chest vibrates as he lets out a low growl, warning me not to move. His grip immediately loosens, and he stops growling when I relax back into him.

She said as she stretched out her hand to receive his. She scanned the room briefly and found no signs of Hydra or Lord Earn. Have they abandoned her? She asked herself with panic building in her chest. Last she remembered, Lord Earn was on his way to the dais to talk to the King. The music began suddenly, Prince Caspian grabbed Larissa's hand firmly as they began to waltz. Spinning and circles and shuffling their feet to the slow, rhythmic music. It was perfect, but even so more when their eyes met.

She has locked eyes with the male, instantly disabling her and rendering her a drooling pool of wasted space. Dragons! This is not one of the ones I saw in Utah. He has long blond hair braided half way down his back. He is casual in jeans and a well worn leather jacket, his casualness would work if humans were ever allowed here. I pretend not to notice the mesmerizing eye lock, but knock into Dalya causing her to stumble. She snaps out of the spell and gains her composure in an instant. She meets my eyes, without words or thoughts, it is clear she knows what we are up against.

​I stepped back to the center of the ruined hall, raising both of my hands as the internal dragon vitality surged through my veins to a deafening crescendo. The dense, dark flames flared across my skin, wrapping my arms in a blistering shroud of pure, concentrated heat. I slammed both fists downward into the fractured foundation of the dais. ​A massive wave of unleashed internal fire erupted outward in a devastating circle. ​The remaining wooden beams, the velvet tapestries, and the shattered furnishings caught fire instantly, turning into a roaring inferno. The flames climbed rapidly up the scorched stone walls, devouring the grand banners of House Vane and turning the opulent banquet hall

Queen Vashti hugged the princess and assured her that the prince would return to her safely. Within two hours, they could hear sounds of the battle, even through the heavy concrete walls. Alicia watched through a break in the wall and her heart ached as she watched Prince Corithias taking on the Red Dragon, the Rogue King Cyrus himself. They fought in midair biting, slashing, and thrashing about. Alicia became angry and burst into flames as she saw her dragon being thrown down upon the ground, bleeding. She saw the red dragon soaring down for another attack when she suddenly transformed into her phoenix and broke through the wall.

The remaining rogue dragons, caught off guard by the sudden reinforcement, faced a formidable force they hadn't expected. The fight was a flurry of claws, wings, and fire. The warriors, trained in combat and fueled by the desire to protect their leader, engaged the rogues with precision and unity. Flames clashed in midair, casting an eerie glow amidst the forest's canopy. With each clash, the warriors gained ground, their coordinated efforts overpowering the scattered rogues. Astrid, though still recovering, watched with awe as the battle raged on. The warriors strategically cornered the rogues, leaving them with no room for escape.

’ Dagger did her earnest to flail. But instead of blood and flesh, the red-scaled dragon touched his jagged forehead onto her master’s head. Though the dragon’s back was on her, she could vividly see the silhouette of the two due to the existence of the dwindling green light and the beaming red illumination from the flames. ‘Who is he to the master? Are they really important to one another like family?’ Dagger could only ask as she watched the red-scaled dragon. The latter opened his right humungous wing to cradle her master into his scaled arms.

They began to dance. Not delicately, no. This was warrior dance. Arms slicing through the air, backs bending in deep arches, bodies spinning, striking, then pulling together like a pulse moving through them all. Their movements told stories of goddesses rising from flame, of queens banishing armies with chants, of wolves circling prey beneath a blood moon. One woman flipped over another’s back mid-dance and the crowd gasped. Another cracked a whip of enchanted light, forming glowing symbols in the air that shimmered then faded.

As Mina screamed in agony and Kristi fled the room with Max and Mason, Rori watched as Arthur and Murdok made a series of hand gestures at one another before Calder appeared in front of Rori and began ushering her away from the dinner table of unfolding chaos. “Come, my lady, we will check on dessert, come now,” he coaxed, and although she never took her eyes off the trio at the table she followed Calder out into the kitchen. Murdok waited for Calder to escort Rori from the room before he approached the still shuddering and whimpering Mina, “I will heal you witch… but then you will listen and not speak, understood,” the angry dragon barked and Mina merely nodded, offering out her arm. Murdok