Dragonage Novels & Stories

The prince of the rouges growled. Drake was panting, gasping for air. He closes his eyes, feeling the presence of the beating heart. As he opened his eyes, it was blood red. He wore the devil's eye. It was cold, dark, mysterious, and dangerous. The prince of the rouges steps backward, trembling. He didn't try to struggle off the chain; he just wore his dangerous lopsided grin.

I spent hours studying the text. I learned about Alice's Dragon, referred to in ancient languages as the 'Rare Healer of Fire.' This unique dragon was gifted with ancient magic. If the Rare Healer of Fire mated with another dragon, they would be reborn as humans but retain the ability to use dragon magic without their dragon forms.

"Like what?" Ever since Kade saved his dragon, his beast has formed a bound with the man. He imprinted accepting Kade as theirs, now he kind of obsesses over his mate and now both of them felt like shit for him not beliving in his mate. Now Kade just stood there looking in, clearly he was still bothered by him and that anger or disapointment is keeping him at a loss. "Dragon fire. it is believed apart from the welder, dragon fire will either denature the tough metal or command the chains resistance to break."

The bare-branched trees won’t serve as a proper cover for anything and then I look up in the sky… My breath hitches when I see the white dragon, An arctic dragon, ethereal and lithe as it flies not too high up. Its shadow covers me momentarily. I stand there mesmerised as I watch it fly for some time with a strangely thudding heart. The afternoon rays of the sun reflect on its snowy white form, making the greyish-white wings look veiny and almost translucent and making it look more majestic. An arctic dragon is as rare as a basilisk. I feel my heart lodge in my throat when the beast slightly tilts its head, its beady black eyes meet mine. Its gaze narrows slightly before it veers and begins

The warlord stood. He was taller than she'd expected. Broader, too. Built like a creature shaped for war, but moved like he could vanish and strike in the same breath. As a child, she had often wondered what a dragon might look like in human skin—a question whispered between old books and nursery rhymes, half-believing it was myth. But if you ever did see one, it was said to be the last sight your eyes would know. And now, here he was: terrifyingly real, terrifyingly calm. A dragon made flesh. And he was looking at her like she was already burning. "You are Sera of House Vaelir," he said, descending toward her with deliberate, predator-slow steps.

As her volume increases, the words that were once a mystery start to make sense. “Praise Oaestr, Great Diviner, Mother of us All. Praise Nyxt, Night Father, Void Incarnate, Mate of the Goddess. Blessed are your brood. Ayre, Faeyre, Bleyd, Kore, Myeti, Carnelia. Blessed Carnelia! Gifted Carnelia! The first Queen of Dragons.” The light from above overwhelms my current form and soon being flame itself isn't enough to keep the pain at bay any longer. As my body bucks against the throne, something shifts in Vega's expression and her eyes take on a look of genuine fear as she gazes in my direction.

Her eyes never left her husband who was leaning against his chair. “We've ruled this kingdom for nine hundred years before Vincent's father took over. And now, his son." Mr Gael started. He pushed to rest his face on his right hand with a long sigh. " I've never set my eyes on a dragon this huge Roseline. That dragon isn't a shifter. It's what we have been looking for for the past generations,” he concluded. Roseline dropped the teacup on the well polished jade tray and raised her head to meet his eyes. "What are you trying to suggest? Coincidence happen–”

It's a beautiful sight. "Wow," Arianna lips hung. Brigid cleared her throat continuing to read. "Pyrrhos, by contrast, was a realm of fire and might, governed by the Dragon Goddess Drakora. Her chosen, the Ouroboros, bore crescent marks on their necks, with silver hair and eyes as bright as molten flames. These warriors commanded the power of fire, bonded to majestic dragons who soared through blazing skies.” Arianna heart stopped. What the hell?!

Nine was their sacred number since it connected the nine realms that existed within Yggdrasil. “I choose Gungnir, the great spear of Odin, Angurvadal, the stream of anguish, Gram, who brought death to Fafnir, Freyr’s sword, to fight when I am weak, Dáinsleif, to inflict wounds that never heal, Lævateinn, so that my step will never falter, Skofnung, the supernatural blade, Hǫfuð, the great sword of Heimdall and lastly Mjolnir.” Malachi chose his nine gifts and the rest were returned to the vault. These gifts would be sent to his house in Seward and he knew Jessica would banish them to his study.

He is the vice president of the Black group. "The final presentation is on my laptop. Get my laptop ready," Kael instructed his assistant, Lena Steward. She is in her early twenties. She is a low-level dragon with limited powers. Dragons are three types: black, orange, and green. Alpha Dragons are black, while mid- to average-level Dragons are orange. Dragons without a beast are green. They have heightened senses, but cannot shift. "Yes, boss," Lena replied. She pulled his laptop from the laptop bag while she entered the private elevator with Kael and Michael. The moment she removed the laptop, water started dripping down from the laptop.