Dragon Throne Romane & Geschichten

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows - a towering, omnipotent being known as the Celestial Architect, with skin that shimmered like the stars and wings that seemed to be crafted from the very fabric of reality. "Welcome, Dynaris," the Celestial Architect said, its voice like the music of the spheres. "I have been waiting for you. I am the guardian of the ancient dragon throne, and the keeper of the secrets of the universe." The Celestial Architect regarded us with a piercing gaze, then nodded its great head. "You have passed the trials and proven your worth. Now, you must face the final challenge: to claim the throne and unlock its secrets." With that,

she said. With out a word, Lucas sat on his throne, followed by Drake in the middle and then Blaze on the other side. All the three thrones began to shine brightly with Orange, black and Aqua blue colours. All the three thrones have accepted them and welcomed them into the elders tower. The old tower changed it's colour and shape. It became new and shiny. It is still as intimidating as ever, but now, it is welcoming as well. This tower welcomes any dragon who seeks the help of the elders.

His father has started to lose him mind, but he still has moments of lucidity which is why Kenneth hasn’t forcibly taken the kingdom from him … yet. “You know how my father is. He doesn’t always make sense. Remember when he proclaimed you as the dragon thief last year?” I force a smile. I’d been terrified with King Solomon had announced that I was the dragon thief. It was right after I’d returned the bronze dragon egg to the dragons. The bronze I now know is named Yttyc. The bronze who survived. King Solomon had stood and pointed at me. “Her! She is the thief!” I’d stood in shock, unable to move or speak. It was Kenneth who broke the terrifying silence from everyone in the room.

I tried to pull my dress up to cover my heavy breasts, but he slapped my hands away, letting everyone see me exposed. “Steal?” Draven mocked. “The throne was never yours either, golden boy. Your father stole it from mine through lies and betrayal. The Dragon God cursed us both because of that fight. And now…” He squeezed my belly harder, making the soft flesh bulge between his fingers. “This fat, fertile little human is the key. Her soft cunt, these heavy tits, this wide breeding body — she’s curing me faster than she ever cured you. Look at me.” He spread his arms. Barely any crimson scales remained. “I’m almost whole again. Thanks to her chubby holes.” Vaelor’s eyes flicked to me, filled w

He wondered the reason he was even here, why had he come instead of send his stupid arrow messages. Getting to the entrance of the Throne room, the guards there bowed before opening the door and then Draven walked in gently. Not surprisingly, the third maid was already hanging against the wall with her face blue and her hands and leg spread side by side. Her tongue stuck out and she wasn't breathing anymore. The rest of the two were on the floor lifelessly, blood oozing out of their mouth. Draco sat on the golden throne chair in the center of the room; one of his legs went over the other and his face was fixed on a colored puzzle box. He looked innocent with his handsome face and no one woul

In his hands, he held a crown. Not gold. Not bone. But dust. Crumbling. Ancient. And filled with power that shouldn’t exist anymore. Liora’s heart stuttered. Because she knew that crown. Not from dreams. But from the forbidden vaults beneath the Sanctuary. It was the Crown of Dust, forged from the ashes of failed gods. Worn only once before, by a king who tried to rewrite death itself. That king’s name? Valen Thorne. And he had died. A thousand years ago. But now, He stood on her land. Alive. Wearing that cursed crown. “Impossible,” Myra whispered.

Could he? "He is our mate. So he could." We were finally reaching the throne room and I could already see the Queen and the King on their thrones. The big ornate door, carved with the sigil of the clan firestorm, surrounded by the small sigils of other important clans in Draconia, was opened ajar. The tempo of the music picked up and I could see the room was filled to the brim, and there were more people coming, too. There were reporters, news telecasters, waiting with their video cameras to broadcast this moment to those who couldn't or didn't come.

She looked the part of a queen. “Queen Elleanna Rose Dragonia…” A male voice announced as she began to descend the stairs. She blushed slightly as all eyes were on her. She was so thankful that she wasn’t forced to wear heels right now. She reached the stairs that lead to the thrones and stopped. Dracon stood up as his father stepped forward. His mother stood to one side of Elleanna and held out her crown of gold with dark purple gems in it towards his father. His father handed Dracon the crown for Elleanna.

“I’ve heard the rumors. A Celestial Wolf, the last Silvermoon heir. I wanted to meet you for myself. To extend an invitation.” “I’m not looking for a pack.” “You’ve found one,” Kade said, his voice a low growl. “She’s Blackthorn now.” Dominic’s eyes flickered between us, and a knowing smile crossed his face. “Ah. The mate bond. I should have guessed. Congratulations.” “Thank you,” I said, surprised by his genuine warmth. “Why did you really come here?” “Because war is coming.” Dominic’s expression turned grave. “Multiple packs are searching for you. Some want to ally with you. Others want to control you. And a few want you dead before you can become a threat.”

she says gently yet firmly, “it’s time to wake up, dear. Morning’s already here.” I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes to hide the heaviness inside. She places a bowl of porridge beside me, smiling. “You need to build your strength, little one. We’ll head to the market later to see what we can trade.” “Martha,” I say softly, looking up at her. “Before we go, I… I have to change something.” She freezes mid-motion, raising an eyebrow. “Change something? What do you mean?” I run my fingers through my hair—the same hair that once caught attention in every palace hallway. It’s crimson red, like embers—my father's royal crest's color. It is both a sign of power and a curse.