Young Adult Dragon 5e Novels & Stories

I feel the substance lift from within me and come out through my mouth. I feel him first,his rage twinning with mine,as flames lick at my skin like a lover. “Hello little one.” My dragon's voice rings in my ear.

Dude #2 yelled back suddenly. “Guys, we have no choice, we either do this or die when we go home, and if we run.. he’ll find us” dude#3 said. Unable to handle the truth of what awaits them, he started walking away from the other guys. ‘Sapphire, what are these guys?’ I asked my dragon, uncertain of their different scents. ‘That’s a delta dragon, gamma dragon and warrior dragon. That gamma dragon is the highest ranking one, deltas are like healers and warriors are obviously warriors,’ she laughed at me, making my fists clenched slightly.

I command as I push my full aura. “MY Mate. I’m looking for my mate” he cries as his body flops onto the ground. My aura drops immediately and I eye this sad excuse of a man as he cries on the floor. Ceron comes forward even more as he peers into his aura. I on the other hand can’t help but just stare at him. As far as we all know, every dragon is of the same age. Mr. Slater appears to be much older than us. Why would a dragon be paired with someone almost twice their age.

he says, kissing my forehead, “have your own job. And that is to deliver our precious daughter happy and healthy. So, we’re going home. Yhendorn has been waiting to have his coronation ceremony until you could attend. And now, you can share the good news with him that the Chief is dead.” “Is the little dragon still here? The one they saved?” I ask. “Yes, Kaylani will have to carry her, but she’s never shifted. These dragons have been hatched, not born. So they will remain dragons, we think, until they turn five, like normal dragons.” He shrugs. “But who knows? This is all new territory. These little ones only know our dragon’s language. They will have to learn a whole new language so they ca

She eyed me suspiciously but didn't say anything as she stuffed the supplies into her bag. Donned in tan leather pants paired with a linen tunic featuring black buttons, she secured a familiar dagger to a harness against her ribs. Retrieving her jacket from the bed, she pulled it over her head. The jacket, embellished with simple brass buckles and elbow pads, had been a lavish purchase for her sixteenth birthday the previous year. The intent was to possess a garment to conceal her daggers when venturing into town, like today.

Sounded about right. Darren’s hand tightened on my waist, the bones of his fingers digging in just enough to let me know that he was two seconds from going full beast mode. My overprotective mate was not happy. He looked at Thorin, then at Lyra, and then at me, his expression equal parts “over my dead body” and “what fresh hell is this.” “Not until she’s thirty,” Darren said, voice gruff. Gunnar straightened, amusement flickering across his face. “The dragon tradition is sixteen. But we’re flexible.”

Drago whispered, “Drawn to me like the wind to the ocean, like wolves, as you said. Do you understand now/” She shook her head, unable to utter a word. “I’d like that,” she smiled, “But I have a few conditions of my own, my dark dragon,” she stood tall, and firm. “And what is it you would want,” He asked, amused by her show of strength. “I don’t want to dress like a genie everyday, I want normal clothes, like the mercenaries wear, and I want to train with them. I think I would love to be one.” “I believe we can arrange that, with Drago’s blessing of course,” Angel stepped forward with a smirk on her face, “ He is our boss, but dragon’s are jealous creatures, even my Marcu,”

She'd created a batch of the dragon-dampening serum for herself, and she had the vials tucked away safely in her hotel mini-fridge. She went over the list of what she knew about dragons in her head as the taxi drove toward Rurik's nightclub, the Lair. 1. Dragons could grow oldlike thousands of yearsbut for most of their lives they resembled men and women in their mid-thirties. 2. There were more than a dozen breeds, such as Russian Imperials and Nordic ice dragons. Rivalries were common between many of them.

If the dragon doesn’t choose you, and you try to force them into a bond, they’ll kill you. If we weren’t talking about fledgling dragons, it wouldn’t be a problem. But young dragons can’t fly right away. They need to strengthen their wings, and they eat constantly so they can support their speedy growth. Even Bynjym, who is five and a fully mature dragon, still eats a lot. Fledglings require care that a human who isn’t bonded to a dragon would know nothing about.

“I’m only choosing in name. The Empire will decide.” “I see.” “You seem very young. Something drastic must be happening that the Premier would be recruiting youths such as yourself. And of course, no one has seen such a…an immature dragon before, either. I didn’t know one could be so small.” “I hadn’t either.” The elderly man raised a bushy eyebrow. “Yes. The ones we’re used to seeing are far larger. They put fear into the people far more effectively than a little youngling would.”