Dragonhunter Viola Novels & Stories

“It’s a hazard. I once gave a guy a black eye. “That settles it,” I say, grabbing my keys. “We’re going golfing.” We drive to the mini golf centre with Viola chattering along the way. She seems happy. The place is half-empty, thank God. Just a few bored-looking teenagers and a dad coaching his toddler through hole three. Viola stands beside me in a pink zip-up hoodie she found in my car, her hair in a loose ponytail, eyes gleaming. We grab our putters. She picks purple, obviously. I go with black.

Trenton asked, taking a few steps back. “Okay, I see your point. While I don’t believe my father would have done that, I will take your word for it. Since you can turn back time, I will want you to show me what really happened back then, but later.” Cyran answered Trenton, as I held my breath to keep myself from throwing up. “First, let’s get rid of that black Dragon Mark.” Trenton waved his hand and a female, about my age stepped forward. She looked tiny and I couldn’t imagine that she was able to contain a Dragon within her. I knew there were female Dragons, but this was the first time I had seen one.

Narleen panicked as she looked at him before they fell back on Rosalie. “I call to the Golden Dragon. Use my strength and appear.” Rosalie spoke as she held out her hand palm facing the sky. Out of her palm shot sheets of gold that floated into a beautiful dragon shape. She lifted her other hand and purple floated out of her hand forming her purple dragon. “You stand between a mothers dream and her son. Now you will feel the wrath.”

She looked back at me with those dark eyes that had never once in nineteen years pretended not to see something they were seeing. "Mate bonds," I said carefully, "in dragon culture they are not chosen. They are recognized. The dragon part of a person identifies their counterpart and it is" I paused. "It is not a feeling exactly. It is more like a fact. Something that simply is, regardless of whether either person is ready for it or wants it." Lyra was quiet. "And Drex," she said. "His dragon has recognized" "Yes," I said. She looked at the window. "He is two hundred and thirty years old," she said.

“Anyone would have done the same. What are the lives of a few shifters and humans compared to the billions of humans suffering because of their existence? The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. A wise man once said that, and I believe it completely. “So, to return to my original statement. I am ending the hunt for Lyanna Bloodmoon. She is not to be taken, kidnapped, or brought in by any means.” Viola moved closer to the camera until her face filled the entire screen. Every line of her expression showed disgust, fury, and madness. “Lyanna Bloodmoon is to be brought to me dead.” Her voice snapped as she lost control. “I want her blood soaking into the ground. I want her torn body

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.

I had now found the dragon, so, how on earth was I supposed to get its blood and hair? Everything about it screamed “come close and I’ll kill you”, so how? I wasn’t scared of death at this point, but death without the hair and blood? That, I was scared of. I gulped as with all the pain I was feeling, I observed it. ‘Hello, Mr. Dragon, I am Elliana. My mate is in danger and I need some of your blood and some strands of your hair to save him. Would you be nice enough to do that? I promise, I’ll be forever grateful to you if you do that.’ I rehearsed in my head.

I nodded slowly; I took him over to his bike; I tossed him onto his bike; I raised my hand; my claws sparkled in the moonlight; I slowly dragged my claws across the metal gas tank of his bike. SCREEEEEEECH. The sound was agonizing; the paint peeled; the grooves cut deep into the steel of his bike. His bike fell down and the fuel started to leak. Henrique winced; he closed his eyes; he thought I was cutting through his skin. “Are you sure about that?” I asked; my hand raised high; my claws pointed at his chest. “I could make this last much longer.” He looked at my claws; then into my eyes; he didn’t see any mercy; he saw the demon.

My cock went limp as though it hadn’t been hard a second ago, and Warg merged and threw Viola against the wall as she attempted to forcefully sink her teeth into my neck. “Dark…..” She called out my name, but I let Warg do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to her; he choked her, lifted her up while choking her, her legs shaking uncontrollably in the air, and Warg threw her against one of the poles. Viola took in her surroundings and realized it wasn’t me, but the king. Her pupils dilated, and she made a feeble attempt to flee, but it was to no avail. “I’m sorry... I just thought maybe you should just choose me instead of some she-wolf. I know you better.”

Jhogo shouted at the crowd from horseback, snapping his whip, "make way, make way for the Mother of Dragons. Reclining on cool satin cushions, Xaro Xhoan Daxos poured ruby-red wine into matched goblets of jade and gold, his hands sure and steady despite the sway of the palanquin. "I see a deep sadness written upon your face, my light of love." He offered her a goblet. "Could it be the sadness of a lost dream