Dragonborn Ages Novels & Stories

“It’s always better when you’re naked.” “It has been…” he frowned, the dragon concept of time struggling. “A while.” “Mmm. Ten years?” I could not remember, myself. “Maybe eleven.” “My eldest is twelve,” he offered. “Ah, then longer than that,” I replied, closing my eyes. “Diandreliera was not showing her pregnancy when I left. How many babies do you have now, Aurien?” I smiled, knowing the dragon’s propensity to large families. “One for every year in between,” he replied with considerable satisfaction.

Amelia POV Lord Wong was in a hurry. We went down three floors of garage space and turned into another tunnel. Next lift went deeper underground about hundred stories or so deep. We had several dragons here, and at times even the First Dragon would go to the Caves as we called them. The expansive space could easily accommodate about 100 dragons at the time, although I have never seen as many in one place. There were two juveniles with us, waiting to meet their made human. See, an interesting thing about dragons - they could be born/made three ways. The rarest dragons and most powerful are those born of two dragon shifter parents. I heard of some in the existence, but never met one. The pureb

They dressed in white, a counterpart to the order of the Black Knights and honoring Nayara’s bright scales. There came a time, however, when the forces of both humanity and Dragon would be tested, though not in the way any of them might have expected. Neyalha, the Dragon Mother, ageless and seemingly exceedingly wise, grew more and more restless. Her mate Gheyaral did not understand. Together they had created this world, and from his perspective all was proceeding well. Yet Neyalha continued to grow more and more unsettled as she observed the actions of the life she had seeded so many ages before.

“Yes, I legally adopted Alexis right after we got married. I have three children from my first marriage. Nova has Alexis and we have a daughter together.” “I would be very interested to know what race your daughter turns out to be when she comes of age,” he said. “She’s eight now,” I said. “If she’s fae she’ll start to change at around ten, I’m not sure how things work with dragons,” he said. “Normally the men merge when they turn seventeen. My son merged when he was five, my other daughter merged when she was ten and my daughter with Nova merged a few days before she turned five,” I said.

As soon as my tail crosses the threshold, it slides shut with a solid hiss, sealing us into a dim chamber. As I take my first deep, shuddering breath, I am instantly reminded of my father’s throne room near the end of his life. My father had been over 800 years old at the time of his death–a ghastly age for most dragons. I myself am only 167, at my physical prime, and still young by dragonish standards. My mate, Carnelia, is around 80 years old–an adult, but more equivalent to a human teenager in development–Dragons live exceptionally long lives, especially those of us from the most noble bloodlines.

The DragonBorns had been cursed for the past six hundred years, and everyone knew the ancient tale. Six hundred years ago, the six supernatural races lived in uneasy peace. But the DragonBorns grew greedy and unleashed fire across the realm, wanting to be the race who ruled over the others. While the other kingdoms cowered in fear, only the Werewolves were brave enough to fight hard against the DragonBorns, even as they died in masses. Hope was almost lost on the blood-soaked battlefield, until a werewolf-witch hybrid named Nali’yum had slit her own throat and laid a curse on the DragonBorns:

I say by way of introduction. “Hi Naida,” Nova says shyly. “Hi, where were you in the cells?” Naida asks her. “I’m not sure, I hid most of the time,” Nova says. Zephyr and I walk Naida and Nova back inside. Naida turns looking behind us. “Why aren’t they shifting and coming with us?” she asks about the dragons. “They were born as dragons. They won’t be able to shift until they are five years old and most of them are only three,” I tell her.

Rebeka said. What she was referring to was, in the day the dragons originally created Dracoterrum, the races that followed them dedicated the subsequent years to them out of respect, starting with their first who perished to create their world, Golden Dragon called Lokmar, each dragon year lasting for 1000 years before moving down the dragon line of succession, until their current year, Red Dragon 510. “So which race was using their own calendar and created this book then?” Markus asked. “I am sorry my lord, but I do not know who used that calendar system” Rebeka answered truthfully.

He tilted his head, staring at Astor and Arabella with something between confusion and fascination, as if he were studying a species he’d never encountered before. After a moment, he finally spoke. “I have never seen a human baby before. They look so tiny and squishy.” Marlana chuckled. “Really?” Lorien nodded, his gaze flickering between Astor and Arabella. “Draconian hatchlings are different. After they hatch from their eggs, they remain in dragon form for a year. Once they learn to fly, they become little fire-breathing menaces.” His lips curled slightly, almost fondly. “They are raised as dragons—taught to fly, to hunt, to control their fire. They breathe flames at anything that moves, t

My guess would be dragon, but I think their scales are bigger than this. I turn to the first page and mutter a curse word under my breath. I read the fancy curled letters with wide eyes. Dragons are one of the oldest shifters, dating back nearly 2,000 years. There used to be only four main classes of dragons, water, fire, air, and earth. But after several centuries, they evolved and split into multiple subtypes. Each main class has its own special abilities, strengths, and weaknesses. The most docile has always been the water dragon, while the most dangerous is the fire.