Dragon Age Origins Awakening Romance Novels & Stories

Take care of yourself. Seven words. No apology. No real explanation beyond "something." No heart emoji he used to add to every message during our first two years together. I stared at the screen until my vision blurred. Rowan Thorne. Alpha of Silver Ridge. My husband. My fated mate. Three years ago, he carried me over the threshold of our house, whispering promises of forever while moonlight spilled across the floor. He left the city behind with me, traded skyscrapers for forest trails. For a while, the fairy tale felt real.

“In my view, every single thing that happens at the very beginning of a journey carries a unique beauty. It seems to me that when wolves are still young and wild, their spirits always possess a pure dream they want to hunt down. I call that the initial spark. When your beast first falls for another wolf, the initial emotions you carry inside your chest are always the truest and most sincere. Am I right, Ms. Frost?” I let my eyes flash toward Kaelen’s face for one tiny millisecond before locking my gaze back onto Elowen's eyes. “It is exactly like the long love story between Ms. Frost and Alpha Blackthorne. No matter how many wild storms or icy winds your territory had to face, your two spiri

She hesitated. “…has been forgotten.” A deep sadness settled over her features. “They erased it.” “They erased all of it.” “Why?” “Because stories frighten powerful people.” ⸻ The silver Direwolf stood. He walked slowly toward Rowan. She expected fear. Instead… She felt overwhelming peace. He lowered his enormous head until his forehead rested lightly against hers. The moment he touched her… Memories exploded through her mind. Ancient forests. Cities rising. Empires falling. Battles fought beneath crimson moons.

I feel her sag and sigh against my thigh before her voice fills the air, still hushed, yet clear and true. “Once upon a time, there was a special girl called Danya, who lived near some very beautiful mountains in a land filled with immortals. She was only small, barely a girl. She was unusual though, as before her no other of her kind had been borne that had ever survived beyond the womb. They say the fates blessed her very creation with a purpose in mind. That she was of two breeds united, who had lived on the land side by side for centuries; her mother a light walking wolf, fell in love with a dark creature who could never face the sun, a vampire. By their union they created a child of two

“That’s partly what I wanted to add to the book. I didn’t remember until I saw it the other day.” I watch her flip through pages covered in drawings and diagrams. She pauses at a section in the middle of the book. “The red flame you saw, they call that the Phoenix. It’s the sign of a successful Awakening,” she says, pointing to a page filled with writing. “What’s an Awakening?” I ask. “It’s a very, very old war ritual. They used to use it on mortally wounded dragons, it heals them and brings them back physically stronger than before,” she says.

I'm guessing he sacrificed his sweet tooth for sexual appeal. ‘'I’m pretty certain it's a lot deeper than that, Roch.’ My wolf, Meava, snorted. I blinked, surprised to hear her speak. Unlike most wolves, Meava was very weak. So weak that she couldn't manage a transformation and remained dormant most of the time. She rarely spoke so this was a pleasant surprise. “Mom made omelettes too,” I told him. “He could have that with toast.” “Fair enough,” Evander nodded, serving himself a pancake and I did the same with some syrup. The way his eyes lit up after the first bite was simply phenomenal. A soft moan fell off his lips as he munched and my cheeks stained pink with secondhand embarrassment.

“Male or female, rogue or not, I despise werewolves. They’re manipulative and destructive.” He stormed into the room where Aurora lay. The scent of blood was overwhelming, but something else lingered in the air—a sweeter, intoxicating aroma. Draven froze, his breath hitching as the scent consumed him. “Mate,” he whispered, a single tear slipping from his eye. The goddess had finally blessed him with a mate—a werewolf. Dropping his sword to the floor, Draven approached the bed. Aurora’s dark hair framed her pale, battered face, her wounds deep and raw. Rage and anguish swirled within him as he gently brushed her hair aside.

Bodies danced around us in erotic waves of tension. My dragon vibrated, smelling the heat of her arousal even with the many bodies that trailed their own scents. Many elves dispersed, but Odessa paid no mind as the music finally came to a stop. We were in our own world, and didn’t care about anything else. The fire continued to roar into the minutes we now sat kissing by the fire. It was the perfect moment, the moment I always wanted, to feel included, loved and most of all have a mate I never thought I would have. My fawn curled up in my lap, her eyes growing heavy from the ambrosia slowly leaving her body.

Dragana POV The smell of him, the smell of his breath and gentleness of the kiss he gave me this morning before we left tugged at me, hypnotized me, in fact, wanting me to turn my horse around and run to the pack house back into his arms. I’d do anything, anything to have him, to be his, even for a day. My mind was screaming for him, my body aching. The only thing which held me here was the fact that I knew he had a mate. And I could not ruin this for him. I could not deny him what every werewolf wants and deserves; a fated mate, true happiness, true love and family. It was breaking my heart, it felt as if somebody was shredding my insides and I was burning up, every step away from the packh