Meleys Rider Novels & Stories

Ezekiel ducked to avoid the blast, but many of his fellow riders fell off their horses, and grew tentacles and claws. Salem pulled the hooks free from his body, and shot downwards. His feet pounded the ground on impact; I felt the tremor even from the beach. His wing-tentacles curled around discarded chainblades, until he was holding ten of them. Then he charged at the remaining Mekrans, slashing in every direction at once. “WHERE IS SHE?” he bellowed, his voice thunderously loud. “WHERE IS MARAINA?” No one had the chance to answer. He slashed everyone in his path to pieces.

‘It is for dragons,’ Bynjym says. There’s Soma, red Tyffyn’s rider, Shao, bronze Jyshy’s rider, Carme, blue Jynyc’s rider, Mara, who I saw before, but didn’t know that she was red Ymyl’s rider. There’s Aris, green Cylyb’s rider, Elina, blue Jynnyf’s rider, Dion, green Nythyn’s rider, and finally Mihai, green Chyrlys’ rider. “It’s nice to meet all of you,” I say politely.

His horse was a long way from here. A lone cloaked rider on horseback came barreling toward them. He swung a sword at Hemel, and the assassin jumped back. Hemel rammed his poisoned blade along the horse's flank, causing the horse to buck its rider. "Run!" the rider called to Mairwen. But rather than encourage the girl to flee, the voice glued the princess in place. She was even more determined to help. Hemel leapt on the the other man and the two began to wrestle in the hot sand. The assassin stabbed at the cloaked figure causing the other man to grunt.

“I want to see her again. I want to know who she is. I want to race them.” I stared at him. “You’re obsessed,” I muttered. “Maybe,” he smirked. “But it’s a fun obsession.” Before I could reply again, the sound of a loud engine echoed from the entrance of the track. Everyone turned. The air changed completely. A rider came in slowly, the bike dark and shining under the lights. The crowd whispered. My mechanic leaned toward me. “That’s her,” he whispered. “The mysterious rider.” I swallowed slowly, my chest tightening.

“What would that be, Rider? You misplace your dignity again?” Rider chuckled and ignored the insult. “No, I’ve misplaced a wench, one I bought fair and square, and I’d like to have her back.” “A wench?” August repeated, seeing Beaux’s mouth fall open at the word. “What? Are we trapped in the Middle Ages, Rider? I assure you, I don’t have your wench.” “Oh, I think you have her,” Rider said. “And I assure you--I’m going to get her back. One way or another.”

The figure gradually materialized, clad in desert attire, their face hidden beneath goggles and a scarf. As the dirt bike drew nearer, the rider skillfully navigated the uneven terrain, eventually coming to a stop a short distance from Lin and Hunter. The engine's growl diminished, leaving behind an uneasy silence. The mysterious rider removed their goggles, revealing a face marked by determination. "Lin, Hunter, I've been tracking your journey," the rider spoke, their voice tinged with urgency.

the frail rider called out. The arena seized for a millisecond, the crowd was unsure of what they heard. “Are you sure,” the Track master said, the frail lad just nodded in acknowledgement and hopped on his bike. The crowd was thrown into an uproar The only person who had completed the Devil's Tongue in one piece was Venom. The rest were either dead or bedridden. The last rider had ended with a brain aneurysm from crashing down the cliff. “I must say that young lad is brave”

comes a muffled voice in reply mixed with the neighing of a horse. "Karl is so wide and tall that he can water the whole woods," remarks the driver jokingly and whips the horses harder. The short man bursts into laughter. The rider behind him grits his teeth at the lighter in disgust. The green eyes of the rider are filled with determination to take revenge, not of the mockery but father's murder. Because the rider is Reza. A few minutes later, "we're here," announces the driver. Reza sees a large man standing on a knee-height plateau that he assumes to be Zakira.

Jethro wanted the thing he'd said he never wanted, because now the child was a prize and Lydia wanted a sole claim while my parents had sold me to save themselves. Tristan looked up, eyes raw. "We should run to the west old ford, there's a boat there and...." A horn split the night from the road, a single rider broke through the trees, cloak streaming but face hidden. He reined in, threw back his hood, and the firelight hit a sigil on his breastplate. That's Duskbane and my breath left me. The rider dismounted and walked straight toward us, hand raised in a peculiar salute, his voice was calm as a judge.

Rider was looking around as if he wanted to run, “go ahead! But my men will have you within moments and if they have to hunt you down you will be banished after being beaten! Then the rouges will finish you off!” Rider looked at me and Angel although her eyes didn’t leave me. She was focused on me and only me and I was hoping that was a good thing. He looked like reality had hit and he gave up. As soon as my men arrived they were ordered to take him to my dad so all ties could be cut. Unfortunately my dad’s Beta was 1 of the warriors who arrived! I called him over and explained the situation, what Rider had done and the decision that had been made. He nodded in agreement and thanked me for s