Who Dies In Transformers 1?

Zephyr is the last air dragon in existence. For a century and a half, she has searched for her mate. Finally, she decides to have a true dragon with Avani, the last earth dragon and only remaining male dragon. Her son, Ancalagon, is the last of the pure dragons. Ishir is a Bengal tiger shifter. He became friends with Avani before he was captured and placed into an Arena. There he met Tana, the fire dragon. He befriended her, her hybrid daughter and eventually her Lycan mate. He has been working to rescue shifters and sometimes even missing humans as his job for years. It was during a meeting to discuss taking down a new Arena that Ishir met Zephyr and realized that he was mated to a dragon. When Zephyr recognizes Ishir as her mate, she refuses to acknowledge him. After all this time, she finally finds her mate when she’s just had her son. But a dragon can’t stay away from their mate, and in a moment of weakness, she goes to Ishir, spending a night of passion more intense than anything she could have imagined. However, when she returns home, she finds that her son has been kidnapped, taken by hunters. She begins searching for him, half crazed to protect him from the people who so willingly kill shifters. When she finally finds her son, Oliver, the lead hunter makes an agreement with Zephyr. She will work for him in exchange for her son’s life. Now Zephyr will have to go against her very nature, becoming an assassin to kill those she is sworn to protect in order to save her son. Can Ishir find Ancalagon, protect the shifters and save Zephyr from herself, or will she lose herself to save her son?

The last Phoenix shifter never takes risks, she had always lived in fear of the vampires, hidden in plain sight, but when four hot headed Dragon kings realise she is their mate, how will she fair? How will she ever please four mates at once? When her past enemy comes back for her, and haunts her present, will the dragons be able to protect her as promised? Will they love her unconditionally? How will the last Phoenix survive ?

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

My husband's ex got kidnapped with me. The guy gave him a choice. "Your ex or your wife. Pick one." Maverick didn't even flinch. He chose her and walked off. After that, hell broke loose. I got tortured till I died. Much later, Maverick decided I was worth remembering. Sent people to find me. Too late. I was already rotting in a dump.

"Quinn, I accidentally hit someone when I was driving earlier. I think… I think it was your son!" The day after my friend, Owen Jolin, gets his driving license, he insists on driving to the kindergarten to pick up his son by himself. I advise him to spend a few more days practicing his driving skills, seeing as that road is always packed with trucks. But he just rolls his eyes at me. "Don't worry about me. I'm super good at driving, you know!" After that, he stomps on the gas pedal and speeds away in his car. But a short while later, he calls me on the phone, and he sounds extremely frightened. He tells me that he has hit someone outside the kindergarten. He said the child is completely drenched in blood, and he somehow looks like my son, Elliot Shelby. I'm stunned, to say the least. Elliot has come down with a fever today, so he's skipped school for the day. Then… who on earth did Owen kill?

The day before the race, I burned my car and announced my withdrawal. Overnight, my fanbase collapsed. Supporters unfollowed in droves, and casual fans turned on me just as viciously. Jasper, the man who had always treated me as his only real rival, put on a show of false concern. “Without him, the race feels too lonely. No matter what, I still hope he’ll return to the track and face me properly.” I sneered. In my previous life, the racecar I had painstakingly modified ended up identical to his. No matter how many videos I released of full recordings of every step I personally took, all Jasper had to do was tearfully tell his fans, “Then let Finn use it. He needs it more than I do. I’ll win on my own strength.” And just like that, I became the shameless thief in everyone’s eyes. Later, the moment I started my car, the components inside exploded, and I was left in a vegetative state. His fans called it karma. Even on the day my fiancée pulled out my oxygen tube and watched me die, I still couldn’t understand. Why had everything that belonged to me—my career, my girlfriend—all become Jasper’s? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the race schedule was first announced.