Dragon Story Book Novels & Stories

anniversary, holding the book we had made the year she turned three: a hardcover picture book titled The Warrior Queen and Her Dragon Daddy. It has illustrations of me bald and fierce in a hospital bed, Killian with a shaved head reading children’s books to my belly, Aurora tiny in an incubator with a cape. The last page shows the three of us on the swing under this very tree, the words: And they lived bravely ever after. Rory reads it aloud in her dramatic five-year-old voice, complete with sound effects. When she gets to the part where “the dragon daddy burned the bad contracts,” Killian pretends to breathe fire and all the kids lose their minds.

she said that but she didn't want to admit her inability to resist reading the book. It...called to her. She sat on the steps, sword now placed across her knees, as she opened the book. The words spilled into her mind like sunflower seeds. Valia Rostrag. A dragon who was incomplete. Hair black as night, kissed with streaks of impossible green, eyes like oceans that could drown a kingdom.

I lay on the dirty floorboards, completely helpless, listening to the heavy pounding of horse hooves outside. I have been sold again. Is this how my name will end an heir, has now been used by those who don't even deserve my look. Julian had poisoned me and handed me over to someone even worse. The Dragon King. Tales of the Dragon Kingdom, had reached the Averon palace when I was just a child. They were brutal, merciless monsters who ruled the northern peaks. If Evander was a terrifying beast, the Dragon King was a nightmare. After what felt like hours, the carriage finally jerked to a stop.

The dragons lifted their heads. Golden fire erupted around him. The earth trembled. Elara’s breath caught. The bond between them ignited. The magic on her wrist burned. Verath spread his arms and behind him— Something enormous began to emerge. Not a shadow. Not an illusion. A dragon. Its outline was formed from pure golden fire. Larger. Older. More powerful than anything she had ever seen. The dragons around them suddenly dropped to one knee. The black dragon looked stunned. “No…” The fiery shape behind Verath opened its eyes. Ancient golden eyes. The dragon whispered in disbelief “The First King has awakened.”

"It's about a boy who goes on an adventure with a dragon to save his kingdom from an evil wizard." "That sounds cool," I said. "Can I read it?" She nodded, and handed me the book. "Sure, you can borrow it," she said. "Thanks," I said. "Do you like dragons?" She nodded again. "Yes, I love dragons," she said. "They're my favorite animals." "Me too," I said. "They're awesome." We started talking about dragons, and we found out that we had a lot in common. We both liked fantasy books and movies, we both liked drawing and writing stories, we both liked animals and nature.

"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?"

He brought him somewhere unknown and he growled and ran towards the Cave, in his head he was chanting for their mate. Adrian entered the cave in hurry and finally saw Elysian, laying on top of a werewolf, getting raped brutally by five men on the floor. A loud growl snapped the five men, they quickly pulled away from the unconscious figure of Elysian and looked at Adrain in fear, the wolves freaked out to see a huge dragon glaring at them, how the fuck there was a dragon here?! While the three wolves knew they will die that day. No one should mess with Adrian, as they have witnessed the death itself, for they have met the legend they have only heard the stories about. The dragon.

I say, and he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. Barko. How do you know this?” Vilkas asks the man named Barko. “Rhiannon, she spoke to me. I am the shaman of this realm. She came to me in the flames.” He says, and I take a step back. “Mommy, can we play with the dragons in the water now?” I look at Cyra and her eyes are glowing. “What do you mean, baby?” I ask her as Vilkas and the rest come closer to her.

There was a tone in his voice which told me he spoke from personal experience and regarded the dragons as lost kin. “I’m sorry,” I apologised, regarding him with puzzlement. What manner of brethren was he? I wondered again. Some connection to the dragons, to be sharing a cave with one and to be so personally affected by their losses. In the stories, however, the dragons were always solitary. It was hard enough to imagine one with a wife and the many children that he spoke of, let alone with a mysteriously beautiful, golden-haired, book obsessed companion. “When you have finished, sweep the cave floor. There is a broom in the kitchen,” he returned to his book, ending our conversation.

I muttered. As the news spread throughout the dragon clan, whispers and murmurs filled the air. Some were in awe of Drogo's unexpected allegiance to Freya, while others expressed doubt and skepticism. Questions swirled in my mind, and I knew I needed to confront Drogo and seek answers. She was the only one who could give me a comforting answer filled with nothing but the Truth. Dragons aren't just flying beings, they are magical creatures who foresee the future and they never lie. They would always stand on the truth.