Dragonborn Saga Novels & Stories

Albian had arrived just in time to see the smoke, hear the cries of the people, and taste the Dragon Fear. He watched as the daylight was slowly blotted out by huge wings, balls of fire, and a dark fog. It was almost dark as night, though sunset was still a few hours off. As he stood atop that hill, he cried at the scene before him knowing any aid he might have offered would never be enough. “I've come too late...” He cried.

Bacchus answered. “Why?” I asked again. “WHY?! YOU’RE ASKING WHY?! HE KILLED OUR BROTHERS! HE DESERVES TO DIE!” Pegasus shouted again. Bacchus just look at him and he shut up. I sighed. “Black Dragon just fought back. It was one versus many.” I quietly said. “It wasn’t his fault that your members are no match to him.” “Exactly. That’s why Boss is angry. He killed them all without being shot even once.” Bacchus bitterly answered.

And then it came, tearing the fragile silence apart. A roar—no, the roar—exploded across Qombinia, rolling over the city like thunder born inside a mountain. It hurled birds from the palace roofs and froze hearts mid-beat. People who had never seen a dragon dropped to their knees instinctively; those who had knew the sound could only belong to one being in the realm. King Drakonios. Omni Draco. Last of the Eternal Brood.

Dojo reeked slaughter, copper-thick, tatami slick crimson pools, our chests heaving thunder-sync, indigo hakamas spattered gore. "You fight like you're born to it," he growled, scarred jaw inches, porcelain fingers banding my wrist pull-close, obsidian devouring mahogany flush. Blood smeared his cheek war-paint, dragon tattoo pulsing throat wild. No fear in his stillness—predator sated, but gaze burned deeper hunger.

Warning. "Come along, Seir," Tristan muttered. "Don't drool on the carpet." They entered the room. It was a cavernous space dominated by a massive table. A holographic map of the continent shimmered in the center—magic stolen from her people, twisted into technology. King Alaric sat at the head. Liam stood by the map, moving tokens that represented armies. "The Dragon Kingdom is crushed," Liam was saying, slamming a fist onto the table. "But the rebels in the Iron Mountains are gathering. We need the new energy source to power the Dreadnoughts."

she sobbed. The Burn had tormented dragons for over two decades. Many dragons have lost their families to the terrible blight. No one knew how it started, or how to cure it. We just knew it killed. The Burn gets triggered when a Dragon tries to take their shifted forms. All Dragon Shifters can breathe fire in their shifted forms, which makes us immune to fire. But The Burn turns a Dragon fire against them, making them burn from the inside out. The only way to avoid succumbing to the plague is to not shift, essentially denying us the right to be ourselves. It's easier for adult dragons to fight the urge to shift, but it's way harder for dragons in transition.

There is no time for hesitation today. More enemies surge upward from the streets below. Fae warriors riding dragons. Archers loosing arrows tipped with burning magic. A lesser dragon dives toward my throat. I twist aside and rip his wing clean off. He plummets screaming into the broken street far below. Another dragon circles behind me. I spin midair and drive my claws through his skull. Blood rains down across the battlefield. And still Seraphina’s music continues. I feel it moving through me now. Through the bond.

Derora finally did what no dark mage had been able to do, the ritual ties your essence to the veratus and unless you have an essence that came from the immortal spring of chaos, you'd literary burn to ashes. A loud roar from the abyss brought her attention back to it, in a burst of flame and smoke, darathos the dratero, a dragon like being that looked like a cross between a sea serpent and a dragon with its long but muscular body and obvious sentience flew out of the abyss. Its skeletal wings flapping with flames and fury, it blew fire from the flaming animal skull head it had and burned in the sky. Derora watched as it gave an ear piercing scream and dove down while landing on the soft eart

His jaw was clenched as he turned away from me and Sin stepped forward, lacing his fingers with mine. “It’ll be okay.” “You can’t promise me that.” I said, blinking my eyes to hold back the tears. Tears weren’t what was needed, I needed to be strong for my mates. For our flock. We followed Marcus into the living room, Louis was already there with two dragons that fit comfortably into the living room. It was strange to see him talking with two enormous fairytale creatures the way he was. His words were low and I couldn’t hear them. The large dark green almost black one dipped its head to him, its corn-flower blue eyes sparkled. It’s body bunched down before it launched itself into the sky, I

The creator of DragonCoin. As if summoned by her thoughts, the distant nexus of energy flared in her awareness, a spiralling storm of gold and blue that called to her with irresistible force. Within that storm, she sensed another presence, chaotic and frightened, yet fundamentally similar to her own. They don't understand what they've done, Sage realised. They're afraid.