Serana X Dragonborn Novels & Stories

Patting her dress lightly and straightening up her body and a maidservant suddenly appeared from nowhere to tidy up the table. “We've to make the snake people our ally in order to prevent this constant rift between the kingdoms darling. They're strong, they've one of the best armies in the continents and their princess is beautiful. She would be Queen.” “What about Minerva?” Old Mr Gael asked. “Although she is not a dragon shifter, she holds a special place in Vincent's heart. I can see it from afar…”

"But this will be the end, Elijah. I will have avenged my family and can move forward with my plans. A deep roar echoed around them. Sophia’s mouth dropped when she saw an enormous dragon, made of lightning, emerge from the clouds and position itself next to Jackson. Its size was unimaginable; the younger Anderson was a speck compared to it. The blue lightning of its form cracked dangerously. Sophia cursed as she lifted herself up, trying to run for Elijah. "Die!" he shouted as he directed the dragon towards Elijah.

Elder Derek’s voice snapped me out of my daze. “You are the one responsible for the pup, or you are Sera’s mate? Which one is it?” The elders all shared a look of shock. Even Elder Rufus, who’d insisted on keeping mute throughout the meeting, could not hide his expression. “Sera is my mate and the pup in her belly is mine,” Draco declared in the meeting room, his glowing eyes proof that his wolf neared the surface. I watched him in a daze as his dominant pheromones leaked into the air, filling the room.

“The township of Scolven is governed by a drakken, he is one the last few that still remain. Being pretty much dead centre in between the borders of the southern imperial side and the northern region ruled by the godking, he has kept his township neutral, not siding with either ruler. He has surprisingly been able to keep his town in one piece, not war-ravaged or sacked by either side and after one hundred years of constant war, the General of the imperials and the godking have built enough respect for him to allow his rule to override their own while their soldiers are inside of his area of control, which is denoted by a set of bright red crystals that unless one is blind to all cannot miss

I stop what I’m doing and walk to her face. “Did you just breathe fire, Cyryl?” ‘I told you it would be soon,’ she says proudly. Bynjym begins clucking at her and she lifts her face to his, crooning happily. “Did she hurt you, Bynjym?” I ask. ‘A dragon’s fire cannot hurt another dragon. We are immune, even if our riders are not,’ he says. “What about the hatchlings?” I ask, speaking out loud as I begin scratching another spot on Cyryl’s neck. Since she won’t allow anyone else to touch her accept Ryuki, the two of us divide our time scratching her flaking skin.

Although he was already much stronger––thanks to the serum given by William, which increases his fighting ability many times compared to before. He gave up, decided to forget his feelings for her. No matter how hard he tried to be strong, the woman would not glance at him. She would not think of him as a worthy man to be with her, to be by her side. To that woman, the only person worthy of being by her side was Karl Smith, the head of the Smith clan with his unorthodox mind compared to other dragons. Slightly similar to William Schneider, but in terms of strength, could not be compared to William, who was much older and stronger than the dragon man.

She spent the next hour re-examining everything she knew about Draven Keep and the man who ran it. She had arrived here injured and powerless, without alliance or resources or any card to play except the information she was keeping close. She had been offered comfort and safety and asked nothing in return — at least nothing stated. The unstated asking was what she spent her time on. What was Lucien Draven doing with a banished, pregnant, Moonborn wolf in his east wing? The answer, she was increasingly convinced, was that he had been waiting for her. Not her specifically, perhaps — not Serena Vale of Thorn Pack, low-ranked daughter of a dead warrior. But whatever she represented. Whatever her

What kind of dragon are we? ''The type that can move mountains, rain fire on our enemies. Drain the deepest oceans and destroy any land. We are as gentle as a butterfly, but still mightier than one hundred thousand dragons. We are the daughter of Nightwing and Catoriana. Their bond is what makes us stronger than anyone of our species.'' "Ok, but that still doesn't answer the type of dragon we are. Do you breathe fire? Or maybe you can control water.'' There was a laughing sound.

Whatever type of dragon they are, their connection to the element of earth is strong, perhaps even stronger than my own. It seems that the technicians gather not just the best minds amongst our kind, but also the most powerful and rare. As a prince and my father’s heir, I have traveled to every major continent on this planet and seen more varieties of our kind than most. And yet, for the second time today, I find myself in the presence of dragonkind unlike any I’ve ever encountered on the surface. “These three are the Crystalborn,” Everly explains aloud for the benefit of our group. “They can sense the age of any object made of carbon, you know, the solid element in most things–rocks, wood,

I did not care about the laws of men or the decrees of holy gods. Nerrissa belonged to the Crown of Drakoria. Her breath existed because I decreed it. Her fragile heart beat because my fire kept her warm. If Emperor Vaelor thought he could march across the snow and steal what was mine, I would teach him what true monsters looked like. "Selene," I growled, the sound carrying two distinct voices—the cold command of a conqueror and the feral, bloodthirsty roar of a colossal dragon. "Yes, Your Grace?" she answered from the stone floor.