Hidden Flame: Bound To The Triplet Dragon Kings Novels & Stories

The forest floor churned beneath the chaos, leaves and dirt flying as bodies collided. A rogue lunged at Lyra, its jaws snapping inches from her throat. She twisted, her claws raking across its face, and then she lunged forward, her jaws clamping around its throat. Shadows burst from the wound, burning her tongue, but she held on until the creature collapsed beneath her. Kaelan slammed into another rogue, ripping it away from a Stormfall warrior who had been pinned beneath it. His wolf moved with brutal precision, every strike fuelled by the bond’s blazing fury. Lyra felt everything he felt, the rage, the fear, the desperation.

Their rhythm is painful and beautiful. Together, the three dragons orchestrate her body like a symphony: Draven spewing heat that forces her open, Kael anchoring her with the steady violence of his desire, Rion chilling the burn just enough that she doesn’t combust completely. Her sense of self begins to fragment—first at the edges, then in great, reckless shards as the sensation blots out thought.

“But all it takes is a spark to ignite the great flame.” “Flame,” Yarsi said almost soundlessly. - The flame may be different. What flame do you see, Zoran? The blacksmith-sorcerer suddenly smiled wryly. “Black flame, my king. Yes, we served another, but now it doesn't matter. The element can be different, the main thing is to whom it obeys. “I'll be back in the morning, Zoran.” King Reeta's eyes flashed a lifeless silver, indifferent and merciless. - I do not give you time to think - you have made your choice.

Laila requested her father. Dragons would usually find their fated mates by the age of 23. If they don't, then the Dragon Council will bless them with a suitable chosen mate. So the council decided that Laila would be Kael's chosen mate. The Dragon Council has Alexander as the council head, 4 ministers, along with a Chancellor and a Vice Chancellor. No one can replace the Blacks as the heirs to the dragon throne. They are the strongest Black dragons in the world. The Black family dragons were always blessed with fated mates, but Kael didn't. So they selected Laila.

“We will see.” A brazier of fire ignited between them, sudden and violent, the flames curling into unnatural shapes. The Elder began to chant low and rhythmic, calling upon the fire as a scrying tool. Layla forced herself to watch. This was what they had feared the Elders probing into the triad’s power, trying to unravel the mystery of the bond. The fire flared, and images danced within it. Three flames spiraled together, sapphire blue at their core. For a heartbeat, they were whole. Then the sapphire fractured, splitting into three distinct points of light. A fourth color bled into the flames an indigo spark that tethered to them all, shimmering and steady.

Colter had casted this magic and targeted them; he was only waiting for Dyron’s signal. He felt his rage build now as the dark energies in him thrashed, he exerted more energy into his thoughts and the flames grew larger. To the king and Colter’s amazement, they were still alive, in pain, but still alive. Their screams would be horrifying to anyone who might have heard it, but Dyron was simply laughing, basking in the pain and misery they were inflecting at his now used up servants. Colter had casted ‘Chimera Flames’ at them, it was a fire that would cause utmost pain to its victim but will not kill them immediately, hence granting them a slow and excruciating death.

Mane flew towards Dragon King Bast with the armored dragon’s maws opened wide. “Illi, cuius nomen Summum est, vocatus es; veni, spiritus ignei imperatorii!” A large ball of fire made gathered within the dragon’s jaws. Dragon King Bast’s eyes opened wide when he saw this as his rage grew. The flames he saw were not yellow or Mane’s signature blue, but red flames that carried the scent of blood! As that fire ball formed, his desperation reached its zenith.

The roar of the First Flame changed its pitch, shifting from a chaotic scream to a rhythmic, pulsing thrum that matched the beating of our hearts. As the violet and gold fire spiraled around us, the heat became unbearable—but it wasn't burning our skin. It was searing itself into our souls. I felt a sharp, electric sting on the side of my neck, mirroring the heat radiating from Sol’s own throat. Under the blinding light of the altar, the ancient energy of the Highlands and the raw fire of the Dragon line collided. The "forced" bond that had tethered us was incinerated, replaced by something far more ancient and terrifyingly permanent.

I stand rooted to the spot, a silent witness to the unfolding spectacle, my heart pounding in my chest. As I watch in awe, Thrystan conjures his own flames, crafting them into a sinuous ribbon of fire reminiscent of a dragon's coil. With practiced precision, he sends the fiery tendril hurtling towards the assailants, ensnaring them in its fiery embrace. The flames do not scorch their flesh, but bind them in place, rendering them powerless and petrified. In that moment, it becomes clear – Thrystan is not merely a Scorcher; he possesses the legendary Dragonfire within him.

“What do you mean though?” “Right before the war started the queen gave birth to three hatchlings. Everyone thought that the hatchlings died with their mother. When the war ended, I still felt the black dragon’s essence somewhere on earth. I had one of my servants go and search for the hatchlings intending to eliminate them. But when he finally found them they were living amongst humans, they were being raised as humans. They didn’t show the signs of the Black Dragons’ evil essence, in fact they were quite normal. I couldn’t bring myself to have them killed, so I had my servants find a witch to bind their dragon essence. I figure they would never have become evil if the only dragons alive we