Wings Of Fire Darkness Of Dragons นิยาย & เรื่องราว

she sobbed. The Burn had tormented dragons for over two decades. Many dragons have lost their families to the terrible blight. No one knew how it started, or how to cure it. We just knew it killed. The Burn gets triggered when a Dragon tries to take their shifted forms. All Dragon Shifters can breathe fire in their shifted forms, which makes us immune to fire. But The Burn turns a Dragon fire against them, making them burn from the inside out. The only way to avoid succumbing to the plague is to not shift, essentially denying us the right to be ourselves. It's easier for adult dragons to fight the urge to shift, but it's way harder for dragons in transition.

Serenya stood in the center of the blaze, her eyes glowing gold-white, her hair whipping in the heat. “Serenya, you’ll burn—” She looked at him and shook her head. “No. This isn’t fire.” The flames lifted like wind, swirling around her, forming wings of light that unfurled behind her shoulders. The runes on the stones beneath her feet reignited, glowing in response to her awakening power. Maelis hissed. “So it begins.” She spread her hands, summoning darkness to counter the light. The two forces collided with a sound like shattering glass, sending shockwaves through the ruins.

Rori was not afraid of Murdok or his fire, and rather than try to shield herself from either attack, she put her hands out in front of her and willed the dragon’s fire to overtake Henry. As the flames rolled past Rori she expected to endure the scorch and sizzle of the blaze, but instead it was only a soft warm displacement of air as Henry screamed in agony. Murdok closed his majestic mouth and as Henry flailed in pain and fire, Rori watched in horror as he grabbed Alma, and she too caught fire. Rori screamed and grabbed for her mother, but Henry grabbed them both and as he began to chant in some language Rori couldn't understand she started to feel a heavy weight inside her rib cage, it wa

She might not have been right in my eyes, but it didn't warrant an argument in the middle of a human settlement. "Let's not hash this out here where anyone can walk close enough to us to understand that this conversation shouldn't take place between two human girls," I instructed and walked towards where I spotted a boutique. Cyra walked with her arm tangled within mine but didn't comment. She was the Heir for the Ignis. The fire dragons. A few years younger than I am, with a tall slender frame and untameable red hair. By all accounts, she was stunning, but a very wild spirit to tame. Except when it came to her views on humans and dragons. Those were very rigid lines in her book and lines sh

“You are so beautiful, dark dragon,” Madchen reached her arms around his neck, never wavering her gaze. “As are you, Madchen, and I love you,” Drago crashed his lips onto hers, searing her mouth with his passion.Black wings erupted from his back, engulfing Madchen in a cocoon of protection. He didn’t care that he was standing stark naked in front of his gathering family, all he cared about was that Madchen accepted him for what he was, a dragon who had found his mate.

The scale of him forced the eye to adjust, to recalibrate what counted as a threat, what counted as a weapon. His wings unfurled behind him. Not in a single, theatrical sweep, but in a measured expansion that claimed the space as its own, the membranes stretching outward in layered arcs, catching the rising heat and bending it to his will. The edges burned in deep, smouldering crimson, not bright but dense, like coals banked beneath ancient ash, pulsing in time with the fire beneath his skin. Drifting ash caught along their span, then burned away in curling wisps, leaving no mark. These were not the wings of any bird. They were banners torn from an infernal altar and set ablaze. That fire wa

The sky over the Shattered Vale burned with the aftermath of war, smoke rising in black plumes, molten rivers casting eerie light over the battlefield. Soldiers, exhausted and battered, pressed forward, rallying behind the king who now moved like living fire. Verath Dravenor, Dragon King, had fully unleashed his power, wings spanning the horizon, scales glowing molten gold. Every step he took scorched the ground, yet his focus was unwavering, tethered by the bond that connected him to Elara.

“In Akyaka’s realm of olden days, a dragon’s tale in twilight haze, From fiery mountain’s ‘hidden space, an egg was stolen, a daring chase. Molten lava, wild and bold, birthed a dragon, stories told. Burning flesh, a bone dragon formed, crawling up, its wings adorned. Evil, born in shadows’ birth, in quest of kin, it roams the earth. Devouring souls, a desperate cry, villagers succumb, beneath the sky. A warrior bold, on fiery steed, with a horse of valor, matching speed. Fearless heart, riding to the sky, facing the dragon, eye to eye. Lance of light, a piercing blade, through the heart, a choice well made. Souls set free from dragon’s core, released into the twilight’s lore.

Fafnir screams. Without a moment to lose I faze back into my dragon form and begin to fly out of the clearing. I cannot leave my brother alone here. Halting I turn back to where I last saw my brother to make sure he is okay. I see his blue scales emerging from the trees as he comes out. Fafnir roars loudly sending out a blast of electric blue flames into the forest. Oddly enough, the flames ricochet off the trees, and back onto my brother. He is engulfed in his own blue flames, as the smell of burning flesh hits my nose.

This is the end—that's my initial thought before I hear a roar coming from behind me. I bend my neck, blinking at the sudden fire blasting out of nowhere, forcing the wolves to jump out of the way. The wolves seem to be staring at something, and I follow their gazes, holding my breath when I find an enormous dragon standing right behind me. But it's no ordinary dragon—instead of scales covering its entire body, flames and fire burst from its core. It's entirely black, with leather-clad wings and regular claws. Its eyes, however, are demonic, and its entire underside is on fire, crackling like the pits of hell.