Wings Of Fire Dragon Maker Novels & Stories

I guide her from Sarn's territory and lead her home. "Your thing is sticking out," she says in an impish voice. I've been fighting my need since we left. No more. If she wants me, who am I to deny my mate? I rise higher and she flies ahead of me slightly. Coming from above her, I curl my front claws at the seam where her wings meet her back. I push down while flapping my wings so we land with only a slight jolt. I rise up and clamp my back legs around hers. In dragon form, I take my mate. Her cries of pleasure push through my mind. Our bodies still glow and when we explode into flames this time, the purest of dragon fire lights the sky for miles.

But why? My blood boiled in my ears, and Ryker crawled to the surface with a growl, my eyes still not leaving him as more rogues and witches rushed to where I was. I fought my way through the witches that swamped in the mist. Suddenly, from nowhere, lines of fire broke out, circling the witches, and lighting some rogues on fire. A figure moved speedily in the haze, slashing their heads off with a long sword made from the fire itself, and his body burning with flames that didn't bother him at all. It had to be him. The phoenix Ciri had mentioned.

Its mission seemed clear: destroy the wizard first. At the last instant, Dral threw himself in front of Dominic and fired a bolt of blue fire directly into the dragon’s fire. The volkaane fire did not stop the dragonfire, but it split the stream in two, causing it to pass harmlessly on either side of Dral and Dominic.

They stretched wide behind him, crackling with heat so intense the air rippled. Rowan stared, frozen. Kai swore under his breath. “Those aren’t fire wings. They’re something else.” Mistara stepped forward slowly. “Those are the markings of the Unbound Flame. A form that should not exist.” Rowan forced her legs to keep moving. “Azeriel listen to me. You can control this.” “I can’t,” he whispered, voice breaking. “It hurts.” One of the wings twisted violently, sending a streak of dark flame toward the sky. The summit trembled again. The fire from his body rose higher, pulling, swirling, trying to break free of everything holding it down.

The creature attacking her was slightly larger than the one engaging Ghaeron, and it bore a streak of dark maroon down its belly. Nayara avoided the thing’s next strike, and as it swept past she flamed its exposed back. It had no more effect than her brother’s attack had. These things were clearly resistant to fire, at least to a degree. Fire is not a Dragon’s only weapon, thought Nayara as she dove toward the creature. It twisted to avoid her, but she caught the midsection of its tail with her hind claws. She was unable to hold on for long, for its weight and struggles disrupted her own flight, but she gouged some shallow cuts into its grey flesh. It cried out and she knew it felt pain. Rel

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.

One of the vampires called out. The dragon roared, fire spitting from its jaws in thick, scorching bursts. I gritted my teeth, spreading my silver-glowing wings wide to match its power. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, but I refused to yield. My claws flared with energy, silver light dancing along their edges. "I refuse to fail! My mate awaits!"

Not just any dragon. They were dragons too—every one of them born with wings and claws, fire in their lungs. But he was the Warlord. The King they had once feared and followed not because of birthright, but because of power. His wings could darken the sun. His roar had shattered mountain passes. They had called him king not out of respect, but survival. And they had forgotten. Until now. Sera didn’t scream. She just stood there, arms still outstretched, as if her body might shield them from a god.

FLINT throw the rocks. Felix gets down to place a dry wheat on the ground even though the grasses are wet. Then he shaves the two rocks to each other to produce a spark that would make a fire. By just doing it twice, a small fire occurred in the wheat. He immediately grabs the torch he made and lighten it up. “Chief Krueger!” Felix shouted. “I made a torch!” “Come, hand it over!” Chief Krueger answered while he is leading the way.

After a few moments when I am sure I no longer hear the steps or hearts of the others I resume moving my these lips against my mate. I lift my head to the sky and roar flames out of Magmas mouth to the forest around us. As the fire crackles and blazes I let it build for a brief moment. I pull in all the flames that I can breathe in extinguishing them in a rush. I hold it in these lungs waiting for the fire to cool. I move my lips back to the lips of my mate. With them I pry his lips open and fill the gap in with my own. As my lips form his I begin to breathe the cooled fire that I have held in my lungs into his body giving him the kiss of a dragon.