Dragon Fiction Novels & Stories

“You are so beautiful, dark dragon,” Madchen reached her arms around his neck, never wavering her gaze. “As are you, Madchen, and I love you,” Drago crashed his lips onto hers, searing her mouth with his passion.Black wings erupted from his back, engulfing Madchen in a cocoon of protection. He didn’t care that he was standing stark naked in front of his gathering family, all he cared about was that Madchen accepted him for what he was, a dragon who had found his mate.

Cyryl is rising to mate. **This story will continue in The Dragon Rider: Book Two of The Dragon Thief Trilogy.

Lyle put an arm around her to steady her, but I noticed his eyes came flickering back to me. A drow is a type of dark elf that are known for their otherworldly abilities. They are said to have a connection with the underworld. A regular elf connects with life and mother nature, while a drow connects with death and darkness. Two different sides of the spectrum.However, a drangel is something even more rare. They are winged elves that were greatly reduced in number due to conflicts with the dragons years ago. They are serious-minded and considered ruthless. I remember when I was reading a book, I confused them with fairies, but my mother told me they were nothing like fairies.

I’m just human. I’ve heard the name “Black Dragon” in every dangerous mission. All of them succeeded. I wasn’t even aware that he is younger than me. But now, upon knowing him, I know I felt jealous or envious of him. I know jealousy won’t help in the kind of job I have. Se7en always say, “Don’t allow jealousy to enter your heart and mind. It will become a monster that will devour and destroy you anytime.” I always tried to follow it though I know I don’t need it before because I’m the best of Dark Knight. But now that Black Dragon arrived, I dunno if I can still obey it. I sighed and glanced at him. *End of Flashback*

On page 999, I found what I was sent here for. The number nine represents dragons throughout human history, while it has little meaning in the dragon world, which puts emphasis on prime numbers. I began reading about Draconian Wicca. There's a duality in this religion, just as there is in life. Some seek to worship, praise, and heal, while others seek power, darkness, and destruction. I found the spell that the hooded figures used. I allowed Clint to read it too. “Witches; fucking dark mages!” he tersely mumbles.

My fated mate shut me out of our bond for the ninety-ninth time just as the last spark of dragonfire inside me began to die. I walked into the Oath Hall of Obsidian Keep alone. Black stone stretched beneath my feet, cold enough to bite through my slippers, and every step made the cracked channels around my dragon core grind deeper into my chest. “I’m here to renounce the Obsidian Court and dissolve my life-bond with the Dragon Lord.” The clerk took in my bloodless face and lowered his voice. “Lady Ashton, once I set the seal, the Court will no longer be required to protect you. Are you certain?” My dragonfire had been unstable since birth, leaving me weaker than most dragonkin. When I was te

The fracture continued shrinking as the enormous hand withdrew into darkness. The dragon sighed. “They never stay for conversation.” Then his expression changed. The warmth vanished from his golden eyes. “No.” The single word shook reality. The retreating hand froze. The eye widened. The dragon lifted one claw. Not quickly. Not dramatically. Simply lifted it. The stars on his black scales glowed. Then he curled one talon. The impossible happened. The fracture moved. The sky screamed. The Sleepless One roared. “NO!” The fracture continued sliding across the heavens as though pulled by an invisible force.

"Tell me everything your parents told you about my family." I sighed, a shameful blush coating my ears. I could still feel the burn behind my ear. It felt raw, especially as blood rushed in a telltale flush. "They told me a lot of things. And, I'm going to preface this by saying I thought the dragon thing was a metaphor. I didn't know it was a literal thing." Thane laughed suddenly. "So sirens, sorceresses, chimeras, all valid and real, but you draw the line at water dragons?"

Genre: Steamy Dragon Beast Fantasy Romance Characters: Lustre Fleff: 26, an archivist with dragon blood hidden in her lineage, fiercely independent, olive skin with opal-hued eyes. Jammy Dracotar: 31, billionaire dragon-shifter, enigmatic, ruthless in business, darker in bed. Rumored to be part beast, part man entirely untouchable. . . . Lustre Fleff wasn’t supposed to be at the auction. It was private, invitation-only hosted in the belly of a mountain estate that only the rich or unreasonably powerful ever walked through. But she wasn’t just any librarian. She’d inherited more than books from her grandmother’s bloodline. Something old, coiled, and fire-breathing.

The end of the world smelled of sulfur and crushed violets. Princess Saoirse, the last true blood of the Dragon Kings, stood before the cracked vanity mirror in the servant’s quarters. Her hands trembled violently as she destroyed her birthright. The paste—a foul mixture of river mud, crushed walnut shells, and soot—felt cold and slimy against her scalp. Outside, the sky was bleeding. The Dragon Kingdom of Aethelgard, a realm of glass spires and singing winds, was dying. It wasn't dying quietly. It was screaming under the iron treads of the Empire’s war machines.