The Wingfeather Saga Book 1 Novels & Stories

The sun was high now, its light a warm, golden oil that washed over the landscape, erasing the last of the silver smoke that had lingered in the hollows. "Volume Five," I murmured, leaning my head against his shoulder. "No," Xander said, pulling me into his arms, his grip firm and real, holding me against the vastness of a world that had no borders. "Not Volume Five, Sara. The volumes are over. This is just tomorrow." As the wind shifted from the north, a small, white feather drifted down from the clear sky, landing softly upon the open page of the leather book we had left by the hearth.

He extended one toward my chest plate with a slow, deliberate smirk. "What business do you have in the vanguard sector, Brooks?" I demanded, my hand staying clear of the glass. Egan’s eyes crawled over my fitted titanium armor, his gaze lingering on the narrow cut of my waist and the proud set of my shoulders. He took a slow, agonizing sip of the dark fluid, his scent turning thick with aggressive alpha interest. "I find myself tracking your trajectory, Chika. A wolf of your exceptional caliber and lethal posture makes me wonder—why throw your lot in with a broken king like Lucien?"

For reasons I couldn’t explain… I couldn’t look away. Almost without thinking, I wrapped my fingers around the spine and gently pulled. Dust drifted into the air as the old book slid free. It was heavier than I’d expected. Carefully, I carried it to the nearest table. The leather creaked softly beneath my hands as I opened the cover. The first page was blank. So was the second. I turned one more. My breath caught. Centered on the aged parchment… Drawn in faded black ink… Was the winged crest. My crest. The one resting against the side of my neck. Beneath the illustration, written in elegant handwriting, was a single sentence. ‘The winged crest belonged only to those born beneath the ancient

Though I will miss this sight I do not feel the same about the cold. We fly like a flock of birds using each other to glide through the frostbitten wind. Traveling until long into the night. *** After flying for two days with almost no stops we finally make it to my horde. I lead the group through the north entrance and into the mountain. Landing with a thud I faze into human form. The dragons of the Horde of Fates follow my lead. Looking out the entrance I see Flavius coming in last. Vega lands roughly skidding across the floor. As he un-mounts her Flavius approaches me on shaky legs.

If you’re below eighteen, you should not read these books as they feature a lot of violence, gore and sex. If you’re a fan of fantasy series with werewolves, demons, vampires, witches, gods and whatnot, you can read THE WICKED GAMES, which is the first in the series called The Spirileaxus Saga. Unfortunately, none of the books in this series is standalone, so you have to read them in chronological order. You can also go for CURSED BLESSINGS. Again, this is book one in the series The Blessed Ones.

Rising to my feet, the pain in my ribs began to lessen, and I figured my body was healing, "Who are you?" I whispered, "What do you want?" Nudging its head behind me, it jogged off, gesturing I should follow. Letting go of the clutch in my side, I took one last look, one last deep breath... Enjoying the smell, but I am going to stick to that wolf. Catching up the wolf, I crept up behind it, watching as it dragged itself on the ground, flat on its belly, paying attention to something behind those trees,

Willow Aiden’s mindlink freaked me out, but I tried not to show it. Raff felt it, but I told him Aiden could explain and was handling it. The back and forth, explaining to Aiden what Asim and Hikaru said and did and then telling them what he said was something we will soon not need, but finding out that these dragons who Aiden said looked to be in their late 30s or early 40s in human standards of age wanted our very sweet 18-year-old mate for their own set me on edge. Hugging Hikaru helped calm me and stopped the weird glowing reaction that I had. Raff told me it’s because my Winter Fae side has awakened and blends with my witch abilities.

Nevaeh nods tearfully, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. Tired of waiting, Lukan shoves my head down. Excruciating pain explodes across my back. My vision blurs, and nausea gathers in my stomach as my wings are being cut from my body. I try to stifle my screams, but the pain is unbearable. The metallic taste of blood saturates my taste buds. It's excruciating. Falling forward, I try to straighten my arms, but they buckle. Choking on my blood, I give Nevaeh a reassuring look, but my vision blurs, and my body quakes. The sound of something falling near my shoulder startles me from my pain. It’s one of my wings. Vision wavering, I crawl to Nevaeh and touch her foot. My ears thrum, and my bod

[Carnelia] I must be asleep. That is the only reason I could be flying. I am a dragon with wings the color of the midnight sky. I am not alone as I travel beneath the stars. Flying next to me is another immense beast of extraordinary size, his wingspan large enough to cast a city-wide shadow. He is my mate, a handsome drake, strong and loyal. I feel more than a touch of pride flying by his side, knowing that he is mine and always will be.

People scream and scurry away in fear, they are right to fear me, I am too angry to show mercy right now. I remember reading a book when I was a girl, all about dragon lore and the special things they could do, so I lift my right paw and bite into my finger/toe to draw blood, then lower it to Drake. I let a few drops fall onto his chest and then one into his mouth, before sealing my wound and returning my attention to those around us. These tiny things are all my enemies they all are trying to take Drake away from me! “RAARR!! Grrrrr!!”