Court Of Dragons Novels & Stories

"The Prince has his own palace. In the North." My heart dropped. The North was a frozen waste and the land of endless winter. Mother opened her mouth again. “Will we be permitted to-” “We will return for the Princess shortly.” They cut her off smoothly. Before father could ask another question, the leader barked an order in the dragon tongue and the four warriors turned on their heels in unison, their capes snapping in the air. They marched out of the room, leaving the doors wide open behind them. They didn't stay to answer any other questions. They probably didn't even care about our confusion or our fear.

In fact, majority of the people had chosen to forget that there was a thirteenth noble house ruled by the Whitby's. All they knew about him was that he had become a religious fanatic who ran a gathering of people who believed in Dragons and the Vita Navitas. "Silver Falcon!" Rhaegal, the head of the bandits called out to him after watching him approach his tent for a while and he turned slowly. The Head of the bandits, Rhaeghal, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. he had heard about the Silver Falcon, but never met the man in person. All the business they did together was always conducted by a middleman of the sorts. He had believed it was so because Silver Falcon was probably too old to stan

Imagining he would move forward and pull me between his teeth. Devour me as all the rumors had claimed. Dragons were maneaters. Twisted and crude depictions of deities. Appointed by the devil. But I thought it was all hyperbole. I never thought for a moment the Drogos family could shift into dragons. I thought it was a metaphor for the horror they could inflict. The Drogos family were like dragons. Not that they were dragons. I don't think I could ever look at Thane the same again. He was a monster. A creature of the deep. And everyone knew.

His jaw was clenched as he turned away from me and Sin stepped forward, lacing his fingers with mine. “It’ll be okay.” “You can’t promise me that.” I said, blinking my eyes to hold back the tears. Tears weren’t what was needed, I needed to be strong for my mates. For our flock. We followed Marcus into the living room, Louis was already there with two dragons that fit comfortably into the living room. It was strange to see him talking with two enormous fairytale creatures the way he was. His words were low and I couldn’t hear them. The large dark green almost black one dipped its head to him, its corn-flower blue eyes sparkled. It’s body bunched down before it launched itself into the sky, I

Remus said, interrupting the arguments, “Now is not the time to blabber about royal history. We need to decide how can we turn this situation around.” The room went silent again. Everyone looked around at each other, but not a single idea was offered up. The court was made up of old men, alphas and masters from a variety of important dragon clans. Most of them had lived a very long time, and weren’t fit to create new and practical ideas. Since the loss of their dragon spirits, their minds had grown even slower, Yet surprisingly, their lustful desire for beauty was not affected.

he asked, and I looked at Wyatt and Fermin. "What?" I mumbled, "It is kind of recent, but in the northern part, the rulers are the Pendragon and the Southern are the Dragnoirs... but in reality, the Pendragon princess is mated to the Dragnoir king," he explained the little political change that no one in our realm took notice but here was a fucking big deal. "I have no fucking idea..." I sighed, and he chuckled. "Don't worry... a Lycan among dragons is not hard to hide... if she is here, we will find her," he said, and I took a deep breath.

The Commander's voice was calm and triumphant. A sinister shadow materialized behind him, and the two soldiers flanking Caleb were sent hurtling into the crowd of onlookers. The leader staggered aside, revealing my brother with unsettling clarity. A dark, swirling aura emanated from Caleb's figure, his eyes ignited in a fierce crimson glow at the center of intricate black lines spreading across his skin, tracing down his face and neck. Waves of raw power surged from him, palpable in the air, as he took a deliberate step closer to me. He lunged forward with clawed hands towards the commander just before falling to the ground, revealing the man that was standing behind him, a sword hilt held t

From the balcony, the entire court is watching them. Loras is already with Dracos, making sure the riding equipment is in place for the fourth time today. He steps aside when Omar approaches. "I, Omar Dradarian, descendant of the first dragon king, ask you to obey me!" Omar shouts into the air, his voice powerful and clear. Dracos looks at him for a second before howling to the sky. He lets his huge head down and Omar goes closer. The flame erupts from his mouth and for a second, Astrid's heart stops. Next to her, Loras tenses up too.

Farther still, across storm-choked seas, lay Drakonis. A land of scaled kings, where volcanoes bled fire and mountains roared with ancient thunder. Dragons ruled the skies—massive shadows blotting out the sun, their roars shaking the world. Beneath, basilisks slid through molten tunnels and hydras waited in frozen cliffs. Fire was Drakonis’s heartbeat, its rulers claiming dominion through fear. Yet even dragons bowed to the Accord, knowing unchecked rage would scorch every realm. And at the edges of everything sprawled the Obsidian Wilds—

The king’s arrival—unexpected in method though not in timing—was foreseen in the runes of state. At ten paces above the platform, a flash erupted—gold and white, so bright it painted everything in silhouettes. When the light dissolved, the dragon was gone. In its place stood Drakonios himself, tall as a mountain’s thought, black cloak snapping around boots that struck the stone with quiet finality. Shoulders squared, jaw set, eyes molten gold, he viewed his court with the detachment of an immortal surveying fragile hours.