Dragon Sin Mga Nobela at Kwento

I struggled, the warmth bloomed and I groaned as a harsh shiver rocked through me, fighting against the warmth. "What're you doing to her!" Xavier shouted. "He's not doing this." Dane's voice was deep and dark. "We have to get her back home." I was lifted. "She's not safe here." "Safe from who!" Xavier growled, angry. "Veron." The name threw me into the darkness. Scales and claws and fire. The first stain I ever experienced of greed and lust. The dragon who killed Silvena when she refused him, trying to return to her Triad.

Pale green eyes—familiar in their intensity despite their reptilian shape—fix on Sorin with murderous intent. Before I can react, the dragon opens its jaws and unleashes a torrent of blue-white fire directly at Sorin. The dragonfire collides with my light shield, not fighting it but merging, amplifying, transforming the energy into something new and devastating. The combined power slams into Sorin's shadow magic with explosive force.

Charles stuttered before begging for mercy. “You didn’t see anything. You didn’t hear anything. If even a word of what happened tonight gets out, well… you know the consequences,” James said coldly, but he knew who deserved his wrath. Charles had done nothing to him. He was not going to kill him. James glanced back at Rowena lying feebly on the bed. “I’m sure you’re curious as to who I am. I don’t mind telling you. I’m the Black Dragon of the Southern Plains, commander of the Black Dragon Army. Forget Trent Xavier, I can even kill the Blithe King if I wanted to.”

She whispers, “Drakon I vovk.” “What does that mean?” Mara’s voice is soft, almost like she’s in disbelief, “One is dark and a child of the moon. His ways are that of an animal. The other is born of fire. He is brutal, powerful, and beastly.” She pulls back and gathers her things, “I must go. You ladies enjoy your last night in Ireland.” Looking at me, she says, “I wish you all the best on your upcoming trials. Please remember, matters of the heart are not bound to logic and do not need reasons to be right.”

It matched the ring I had bought her and I smiled as I looked at it. “By the power granted to us we declare Rylee Grey the Drakaina of the Grey Lair and true fated bonded half of Sire Lucas Grey forevermore,” Elder Peter said. I felt the pull towards the realm of the dragons and when I opened my eyes, Rylee and I stood in a cave, similar to the one where I found Baz. There was a soft humming sound and a large black dragon appeared in front of us. I instinctively knew what to do and held my hand out to him where he made a cut on my palm and repeated the process with Rylee. I took her hand and our blood mingled once again.

“…for the sins of his father.” Riyin didn’t understand anything she was saying, all he could feel was fear and the thought that this was going to be the last day he was going to live. He should have said he loved his mother often. He should have been a good son to his father, instead of complaining about cleaning the stables. He should have been a better son. “Oh, is the little dragon sad? Don’t worry, your tears will bring my daughter back to me.” She laughed and Riyin felt himself go higher.

He was not sure what she was, but he knew she possessed healing powers, and that should convince the dragon kingdom to accept her as his mate, their princess. Just then, Alicia heard someone yell, “I knew it! I knew you had a secret out here, so I followed you. This is your day to die, dragon!” Antione Richmond yelled raising his bow. “Dragon! Fly! Get out of here, save yourself!” Alicia cried. She ran over and stood in front of the dragon, begging Antione not to fire. Corithias shot flames at Antione, making a wall of flames to block his path.

He was just a twenty-year-old boy in a soot-stained tactical suit, exhausted to the marrow of his bones. I am just a man, Tristan thought, a profound sense of vertigo washing over him. I toppled the strongest fortress in the Western Reach with nothing but a bluff, a flare, and a pirate’s detonator. And her. He turned his head. Saoirse stood by the viewport, the morning sun catching the silver strands of her hair, turning them into threads of spun light. Her red leathers were scuffed, her breathing slow and measured as she gazed out over the harbor. Even standing still, she radiated an aura of untamed power. She was the Dragon. The last of a mythic lineage.

“Let’s not waste time pretending this is a misunderstanding.” Darion swallows. “You don’t understand what Malrec is offering,” he says hoarsely. I stop directly in front of him. “No,” I reply. “I understand perfectly.” His eyes brighten slightly, as though he believes he has found a sliver of sympathy. “Then you must see reason. Dragons ruling both realms again, restoring our rightful dominance—” My fist strikes him before he finishes the sentence. The crack of bone against flesh echoes sharply through the chamber. Darion slumps forward against the chains, blood spilling from his mouth.