Dragonborn X Serana Novels & Stories

Damon's expression darkened: "What are you doing?" I looked him in the eye. My voice wasn't loud, but every person in the hall heard it: "Damon, your childhood friend swapped our Bonding Tokens for a Hex Rune at my Mating Ceremony. You don't ask her why she did it, but you ask me what I'm doing?" Damon had nothing to say. I turned to Serena and smiled: "Serena, you say Damon and I have a Cursed Bloodline clash. Then go ahead — tell me exactly how we clash."

“So I’ll ask again: who are you?” “Serena,” I whisper. “Serena Valen. Former Luna of Ravenfall. And that’s all. I don’t know how or why I said anything.” “Valen,” he repeats slowly. “That bloodline was supposed to be extinct.” “I’m an orphan. I know nothing about my bloodline.” He studies me again, something unreadable passing through his eyes. “An orphan who speaks ancient magic in her sleep. Who survives rejection without losing her mind. Who crosses into Lycan territory and lives.” He tilts his head. “You’re either extremely lucky or extremely dangerous.”

We sat in the courtyard while the morning light moved across the stone and my power continued its steady, compounding recovery, and I let myself have this — the grief and the warmth of it, the way they existed in the same space without canceling each other out, the way Firebourn was beginning to feel less like a foreign place and more like a room in a house I'd always lived near without being allowed inside. "Tell me something about her that I don't know," I said. "Something from when she was young, something that would have embarrassed her if she'd known you were going to tell me." Sera's mouth curved into that rare, genuine smile. "She tried to fly for the first time at fourteen," she said

“I was omega, wolfless, an outcast. I know you see me as a danger now, something you don’t understand. But I’m not out to wreck this pack. I’m here to fight for it.” Some of the warriors moved and their faces grew a shade softer, but Torren scowled further. Serena pressed on, her hands resting gently on her stomach a movement that went right through me. She had not told her pack yet, had not spoken the truth that bound her to another, that joined her to the child she carried inside her. I tensed, knowing what was coming.

Ghaeron had returned. But he was not alone. Nayara was with him. Her diamond scales flashed and glittered in the orange sunset glow, making her seem a creature made of flame. Ghaeron was a powerful shadow beside her. They swept past where Randey stood, flying in low toward the battle. Nayara flamed first, her blazing breath scorching the Goblins on the edge of the group. The Dragons’ keen eyesight had spotted Sir Braedon among them, and as they continued their assault they were careful to avoid engulfing him in the deadly fire.

My dragon spirit rebelled against the submission he demanded. But as she roared, my wolf, Seris, sang. She welcomed the blood of her new mate. The bond Thorne felt, the one that was “different” and, it wasn’t his bond to the dragon. It was his bond to the wolf. The Moon Goddess had given him two beasts in one mate, and he had no idea. The power that surged from me was not fire. It was rawl energy. The energy of a wolf accepting her mate, mixed with the fury of a dragon refusing a master.

Serena said firmly, “the King’s rightful mate… and Queen of Selvayra.” Naya blinked, shock visible across her features. “A human? And… the king… he actually loved you? How… How is that even possible? You have to explain everything.” Serena sighed and began to narrate everything from her own point of view, leaving no detail out. She told Naya about the events, the bond, Kaelen, the Moonveil Pack, Lyssara, the Time Oracles, and her mission to reclaim her place as Kaelen’s mate and restore the timeline to its proper order.

“And now he says I can’t use Charizard unless I bring a sacrifice!” I blinked. “I’m sorry, he did what now?” Arsen was still processing when Jade charged in behind him, dramatically holding up a red crayon like it was the elder wand. His voice was deep, serious, slightly British for some reason. “THE CARDS HAVE SPOKEN.” “We are five seconds from a full cult ritual,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And I still haven’t had a second coffee.” Then—because apparently the chaos gods weren’t done—Lorelai floated in. I say floated because she wore a sheer purple cape, a tiara perched sideways on her curls, and she was dragging the mop like it was a sacred staff.

Acasia Sarn's lair was different. Not as comfortable as Bastian's, barren actually. Calista, his bride, welcomed me with a soft melodic voice. She was much older than I was, her hair long and grey, her face wrinkled but the beauty she once held was still evident. It was surreal meeting a claiming bride whom I'd studied in school. The other, Megan, belonging to Tahr. She was middle aged, with graceful beauty and still full of life. The dragons seemed relaxed, friendly, and curious of me until Laryn arrived. I received a sharp jerk to my hand, which brought me closer to Bastian's side within seconds of the devastatingly handsome man's approach. With gentler and more subtle moves, Sarn and Tahr

“Mr Henry won't vouch for you marrying a woman of lower status. We do have other options for women from higher statuses but they all have a grudge against you. They could use this to their advantage.” I nodded. “You have a point, but can Serena be trusted?” Austin answered. “After staying faithful to Adrian Whitmore for eight years, that's the last thing to be worried about.” I stared at Austin for a long time before heaving a sigh and rising from the chair. * * * Meanwhile Serena Cole was busy admiring the beautiful lilies in the garden. It made her think of Adrian, and her hand instinctively went to her belly. Tears stung her eyes but she reminded herself not to cry. Somehow, she'd find a