Hookfang Dragons Novels & Stories

“How can there be a dragon image on my back?!” Zhou Fu couldn't stop frowning every time he looked at the dragon tattoo that seemed to be engraved on the skin on his back. At that time, the image of the dragon was slightly lit up with a golden appearance. “Is that thing that gave healing to my body?” Zhou Fu asked Chen Long.

Harry could understand how that had come to be, as it was not a wolf they lay beside, but a giant, furred dragon curled into a ball within the tight space of the chamber, its wings pressed against the roof. One of the dragon’s paws wore strands of bloodied bandages. “Jules?”

Seeing Long Du lose a hand, the other four fell silent for a while. "Ah!!!" "Insolent! Wind dragon, come!" Long Ro'er revealed her wind dragon form. Long Chen only smiled seeing the wind dragon behind Long Ro'er's body. "Is it a wind dragon? I want to see if it's a strong wind dragon or my wooden dragon." BOOMMM ROARRRRR.... "What?"

But under the given circumstances, it was hard for him to control his impulses and wait for help to arrive. In five minutes, Dom heard a loud 'Thump, Thumps' on the beach outside and ear-piercing screeches. His fellow dragons had finally come to the rescue. Desperate, he ran outside and called out to Mage Master, who was riding the beta Dragon, a ginormous blue-black scaled flying lizard of legends.

The wind at the summit of the Obsidian Hatchery didn’t just howl; it screamed with the frequency of a dying world. High above the fortress, where the air was thin enough to taste of stars and ancient frost, the Great Drakes of the Obsidian Peak stirred in their stone nests. These were not the dragons of myth, but primordial, fur-clad behemoths—half-wolf, half-serpent, with wings of leathery shadow that spanned thirty feet. They were the "Shadow-Stalkers," beasts that had served the High Alphas since the First Dawn, and they only answered to the resonance of a Hallowed Command.

There was nothing separating us from our dragon mates and I knew that they would be able to listen to anything we said. Tara went over to the shelves, grabbing a remote control and turning on the television. I moved closer to the bed, looking at the headboard. It was a dark iron bed frame. The heavy bars made curving designs and on several of them I could see the indents of where chains had dug into the metal. Scaring the bars that were half hidden by a few fluffy pillows. Maybe Tara hadn’t been joking about being tied up for two days? She probably hadn’t if Frankie was like Spencer. I was beginning to see a pattern between the two men and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was because they