Dragon Throne Novels & Stories

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.

“I’m right here.” I pulled my hand away before he could touch me. “I, Elara Thorne,” I began. The name Thorne hit the crowd like a physical blow. I heard gasps everywhere. Rowan went pale, his jaw dropping. “Elara Thorne?” Aiden whispered, confused. “What are you talking about?” I ignored him and continued, my voice growing stronger. “Rightful heir of the Nightshade Pack and daughter of the true King, hereby reject Aiden Blackwood as my fated mate.”

THE ATLANTIC THRONE: TWO HOURS LATER We didn't land. We were pulled. The Thorne-17 was caught in a tractor-beam of pure gravity, dragging us toward the obsidian throne rising out of the waves. Around the structure, the ocean was boiling, steam rising in thick, violet clouds. As we hit the landing bay, the doors hissed open. A legion of Kingslayers stood waiting, but they weren't the white-obsidian drones of the Council. These were "Primal" Kingslayers—creatures of raw shadow and ancient gold, their armor forged from the very first mercury-veins of the earth.

Draken. *Merisbeth, The Demon Clan* Draken walked into his veranda, a goblet of wine in his hand. He'd been drinking like he always did. Even while in the courtroom, in a meeting with the Oldborns, Draken was drinking. He never loved running short of wine or ale. He could vaguely remember the Oldborns telling him to quit whatever agenda he had in toppling the lord of Abbator over occupying the Ice Throne. The demons were never born to rule Bloomington. Only the Throne family according to what the Ice pact dictated.

He toyed with a strand of my hair, then slipped a necklace glowing faint blue around my throat as if conjuring it from thin air. It was the Sea God's Tear, a jewel the shifter royal family had guarded for a thousand years. I touched the cool stone and glanced at Draco, who showed the rest of the world nothing but brutality. A laugh escaped me. "Did you empty the treasury? If the old men on the Council of Elders find out, they'll call me the temptress who ruined the kingdom." "Anyone who complains loses his tongue." Draco gave a dismissive snort, then bent and claimed my mouth, his possessive devotion burning in his eyes. "My Queen deserves the finest things in this world."

“And what have you accomplished on your journey?” She looked up then and said, “I have made an alliance with the dragon king, helped reclaim the Heart of Magic from the King of Beelzanborg, and overthrown an evil dictator.” Nya was proud of everything she’d helped Slate achieve. “Father, King Zar of Frindom, may I present to you King Slate of… the dragons.” “King Slate of Dracu,” he corrected, stepping forward. The two kings greeted one another and exchanged a handshake. “I apologize for your daughter’s lengthy absence. I needed her assistance in reclaiming the Heart of Magic.”

They looked like rickety monsters, with their glass eyes shot out, sporting a toothless hollow grin, dwarfing her. Her red, ornately embellished wedding dress, slowing her down. Her red dupatta (stole paired on an Indian dress) sweeping the ground, wet and heavy with the slick and rust. With her service Glock 17 handgun, cradled in her sweaty hands, she was quite a sight to look at.

That was because he was from the True Dragon Clan, one of the three celestial monsteriods. The true dragon clan was originally the king of the monsteroids. They possessed extreme speed and naturally had the ability to control thunder and water energy. They were regarded as invincible among all. Standing in front of Leigh at that moment was Drake Wyrmthorn, the son of the current Monsteriod King Keith Wyrmthorn in Thunderpeak Region. Not only was Drake Wyrmthorn born under the bloodline of the True Dragon Clan, he was also from the extremely rare Golden Dragon Bloodline under the True Dragon Clan.

Rex's POV I lay on my bed, thinking of fear which concerned the welfare of my kingdom. I was the next heir to the throne. I had to come up with a solution that would benefit my clan. The Demon lord had been reborn, We had tried using our dragon's magic to protect the younger dragons, but we needed to train them Into warriors. The dragon riders too were too little to undergo training. Ten years was too little to achieve all this. " Rex, I will be right back," Drogo said, connecting to me through the kind link. I could feel the connection between us, she felt tense. " What's wrong?" I couldn't help but ask.

His hands slipped lower, caressing her hips and backside beneath the water, teasing the line between reverence and temptation. “Dragon’s blood does not weaken when shared,” he murmured, his hands slipping beneath her hips to lift her, “but the power tends to favor a few and we call that person ‘Draken’. Records show no ‘Draken’ since the first has found their mate. Some, in desperation, took additional wives to tempt their waning desires and hopefully produce an heir—although their offspring won’t necessarily inherit their title.”