The Serpent And The Wings Of Night Book Novels & Stories

I didn't remember falling asleep. Only the moment I was pulled under. The sky above me split, smeared with fire and blood, and the wind was full of screams that did not sound human. Wings beat like war drums. Scales clashed like swords. Seraphine hovered at the eye of the storm, her voice rising in a call I could not understand, her eyes ablaze gold beneath a crown of horns. She was beautiful. Horrifying. Alone.

He stood in front of me, one hand braced beside me, the other against the mirror at my back. He looked at me, voice barely above a whisper. "Selene, what the hell has gotten into you?" I turned away. He wouldn't let me. His fingers caught my chin and turned my face back. "Talk." My eyes stung. I clenched my teeth to keep from falling apart. "I told you. It's none of your business." "Then whose business is it? Hm?" He stepped closer, his knee pressing between my legs. "That serpentfolk who just came of age? He's going to help you through your heat?"

I couldn’t fully process it: how could a simple book have dragged me into something so dangerous? “Why are they looking for me?” I finally asked, my voice barely a whisper. Alex crossed his arms, as if what he was about to say would worry me even more. “Because that book contains secrets about creatures like… last night’s gorgon. Secrets no one should know. Anyone who possesses that knowledge represents a threat to them… and to my pack as well.” My mind raced with questions, trying to find some way out, some logic in all of this. “Your pack?” Leslie asked, looking at him with a mix of surprise and confusion. “What are you saying, Alex?”

“Impossible. Forbidden. Perfect.” The sigils restraining him shattered. With a sound like a dying star collapsing, the seals burst apart. Energy exploded outward, vaporizing crystalline walls and sending fragments of ancient stone hurtling into the void. Sereth rose to his full height towering, muscled, monstrous and yet impossibly graceful. His skin glowed with shimmering runes, shifting like living ink. His horns curved back like obsidian scythes. His wings ethereal and jagged as fractured starlight unfurled behind him.

As we passed through the courtyard and the garden paths, I could already see the smoke, rising in thin gray curls against the pale blue of the early morning sky. We pushed through the outer gardens, stepping over loose stones and soft soil. My pulse was hammering in my throat now. I could feel something ahead. Something... powerful. As we crested the final hill near the eastern wards, I froze. There, lying motionless in a shallow crater just outside the shimmering edge of Seralyn's magical perimeter, was a figure. A man. Tall, broad... and winged. Massive black feathered wings were sprawled out behind him, singed at the edges, still glowing faintly with residual heat. His skin was ash smudge

she whispered to the dark, “let them know I did not repent. I remembered.” She placed the book in the hidden alcove behind her mother’s portrait, where moonlight could never reach. As she turned away, the faintest breeze stirred through the room. It touched the cover of the manuscript, flipping the first page open just enough for the candlelight to kiss the ink. For an instant, the words shimmered as though alive. And from somewhere far beyond the sea, a single whisper answered ancient, approving, inevitable. “Then it begins again.” Bianca looked toward the window, toward the silver horizon. The serpent’s song pulsed faintly in her blood, distant, waiting, almost kind.

I look up into the milky white eyes of my best friend and say one word. “Dragon’s!” **Authors note** I hope you have enjoyed Book 2, the next book, will follow on from this from Monday the 15th of Dec. Book 3 follows the story of Princess Emerald and King Vulcan in The Dragon Kings Golden Obsession. Hope to see you all soon :) MM xx

Black fire boiling through the clouds, chains thrashing like whips of night, wings slicing the air so hard the world tilts every time they beat. And the hand— Gods, the hand. It’s not a hand anymore. It’s a storm of bone and light, folding and unfolding in ways that make my stomach lurch. Every twitch breaks another piece of the City. Spires collapsing like sandcastles. Streets twisting into knots. And Kael—he’s holding it. Holding it. Chains binding its fingers, shadows dragging against its skin like barbed wire. His wings cut arcs of darkness so sharp they shear the air in two.

The bedroom was lit dimly, and the open curtains displayed the large windows that showed the landscape outside, with the sky twinkling with stars. I had only set foot in Nero Vecchio’s bedroom whenever he wanted to have sex, but I had already memorized the layout by heart. To my right, I flicked on the light switch, illuminating the room. Then I began my search. It was a long, grueling task, and each time I thought I heard footsteps or felt the focus of a camera on me, I would freeze, anxious to the bone. This was dangerous, but so was working for Angelo. Two devils and I was trapped between the both of them, a slave to two masters.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention Baba, I truly am. Please can you teach me about Morpheus?” I hoped my apology and pleading would work as it usually did without fail. My father clearly couldn’t pass up an opportunity to lecture me on his favourite topics so he set down his red pen and grabbed a thick, leather bound book from the bookshelf, placing it down on his desk with a resounding thud. The spine of the book crackled as he flipped through the pages, his fingers finally coming to rest on a page entitled “The Oneroi”.