Wings Of Fire Dragon Drawings Novels & Stories

Shrill, loud and filled with power and authority that just made you want to submit. A massive shape unfurled within the light. Wings. Burning. Feathered with flame. Eyes like molten suns, no, Gold, molten gold would work better. A Phoenix. It emerged from that fire and it was watching me.

But I cared less, for the pain and regrets Eren cost me, I was going to rip him apart. I jammed my palms together quickly as I mumbled a spell, “I hear dragons like to play with fire, does it burn like mine?” I growled as wings of blue fire spread from back while I conjured a bow and arrow made of fire too. The Dragon lord transformed completely into a golden dragon.

Fuck it! I turn and rear up, flapping my wings with a high-pitched shriek as the fire erupts out of us. I direct it towards the retreating Lycans and they burn to ash. I look for her and she has vanished. Fucking coward! I look towards the dragon who rumbles at me; I hiss as I fly higher before diving at him, my mouth open and my talons out as I strike, biting and scratching at his scales, his blood coating the ground. When he roars and throws us off him.

Those eyes burned like an unquenchable flame, testing her patience and scrutinizing her every move. Dragon sat beside his wife, Olivia, who exuded confidence and satisfaction as she spoke to him in a calm tone. His sleek black hair and sharp gaze made him resemble a meticulously crafted statue. Yet, what truly set Dragon apart was the commanding aura that surrounded him—a power that demanded either respect or fear. Jenny, on the other hand, wore a simple dress that highlighted her natural beauty, her wavy hair and green eyes giving her a captivating, understated charm.

She saw the red dragon soaring down for another attack when she suddenly transformed into her phoenix and broke through the wall. Fueled by anger, the Phoenix flew directly into the red dragon, slicing his neck open. He tried to sink his teeth into her, and she kicked him with both feet. He quickly sunk his talon into her thigh, and she screeched in pain. The dragon hit her in the head with his powerful tail and knocked her out. Cyrus had her now, and he took off with her in his talons.

Its tail was lizard-like, though scale-less as the rest of it, and without the distinctive small fins at the tip such as a Dragon had. Ghaeron spread his wings and flapped upward toward the thing, spewing flame when he got near. The beast flinched and moved away from the fire, but was not seriously injured. It flapped and maneuvered as well, engaging in a pattern that had the two airborne foes circling one another in the sparse clouds. It cried out in defiance, and spat a mass of yellowish ichor at the Dragon. Ghaeron swerved, but some of the substance splashed across his hip. He dove and then turned the action into a climb, pivoting and flapping quickly. He flamed the beast again, bringing

Draco replied with an aura of majesty and graceful charisma. Draco stretched out his hand and took the fire out of his hand. Radcliff, on his knees, shook Draco's hand with the one wrapped in the salamander fire. Draco's body emitted flames all over his body, and from his back stretched the black dragon wings that slowly changed into the form of wings of flames.

She was somewhere around seven or eight, completely absorbed in whatever she was drawing, her tongue pressed to the corner of her mouth in concentration. I lowered myself carefully into a chair near her, mindful of my ribs, and looked at the paper. The drawing was full. Not in a crowded way, in a deliberate way, like she had a clear picture in her head and was working her way across the page with intention. There was a dragon in the top left, red and blocky with impressive teeth. Below it, a woman in a red cape with a pointed hat on a flying broom, carefully coloured with a orange crayon. To the right of that, something with fangs and a dark cape that I was fairly certain was meant to be a v

“Let’s lift.” Her wings unfurled in a flare of violet-black flame, the Circle pulsing along her spine. The others shifted, their dragon forms rippling into existence around her. One by one they lifted into the air and Avi rose last, the air bending with Dawlya force as she joined them.

I can see the faint outline of what looks like wings spread behind her. Wings of fire that seem to take the shape of a heart… A piercing scream rips through the air as her power increases tenfold and surges into the sky, emanating in waves around her. I see the swirls of the flames behind her move before I see a tiny part of her left wing snap and shrivel into embers of ash. It’s too blinding to look at, and I’m forced to avert my gaze.