The author would have done better to write this story as a straight fantasy book or better yet, an epic tragedy. The twists and turns would have made more sense. The HEA is barely there, and the "love conquers all" message is completely twisted into immature, self-absorbed tripe. I really wanted to like the story and the characters because I love dragon books but I only grew more and more disgusted with them. Even This book is not a romance. Even the dragons were irritating after a bit.

Author:Dolkis Mokazahn
Language:English (Spanish)
Published (Last):8 January 2014
PDF File Size:8.28 Mb
ePub File Size:2.8 Mb
Price:Free* [*Free Regsitration Required]

Expert blend of a star-crossed relationship, superb world building, and riveting suspense. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.

Please Note This is a work of fiction. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Cover by Kim Killion www.

Chapter 1 So young. Kiril slipped through the lakeside foliage, his grip tightening on his dagger as he studied the boy and wordlessly cursed what he had to do. The blond youth—Huet was his name—was about seventeen years old with the kind of face girls lined up to kiss. A smile at the right moment and this boy could have whatever he wanted. Many times at court Kiril had wished for a face like this.

Kiril shifted. Was he listening to dragonspeak? Dreaming dragon thoughts? He had to finish this now. He dove forward. I spare no one who congresses with dragons. Give me the egg and you will live. For someone so young, this one had nerves of steel. Was it possible? Had Kiril been lied to? There was something very wrong— Faster than humanly possible, Huet swung around. Kiril barely had time to draw his own sword before his foe was upon him. Extraordinary speed.

Lightning-fast reflexes. Huet had a killing strike with his blade. He was dragonborn now. Huet—or Dag Huet now that he was joined mind to mind with his serpent beast—was losing his humanity by the second. His thoughts were completely consumed by dragon hunger, dragon power, dragon evil. There would be no sparing him now.

Assuming Kiril won this fight. He swung his blade, parrying for all he was worth. The boy was in the prime of his physical abilities; Kiril was old by warrior standards. And bloody claw, this boy was strong! Then it happened. He heard the sound. Dragons were agile and deadly; they were not silent. He heard the wings flap, felt the breeze on his back. Kiril wanted to turn and face the real threat, but Dag Huet attacked with renewed ferocity.

Thankfully, Dag Huet and his dragon were both young, newly dragonborn. It gave Kiril time to find an opening, some way to— Too late. Dragon claws bit hard into his back, cutting through his leather and wire loga as if it were butter. He could be a dragon or he could be a man. Kiril twisted, sliced his dagger across the dragon claws that held him.

The skin was young and very soft. The claws straightened reflexively and Kiril was released—but not before he was thrown high into the air, across a jut of the lake. He bounced and rolled, his body slamming painfully into a tree. Bloody claw, what was he going to do now? He tried to move, but nothing responded.

He was paralyzed. He looked up at the tree above him and realized with a distracted kind of fatalism that he was about to die. Here he was, Kiril, famous dragon-killer, lying like a discarded doll against a tree, numb from the neck down. Well, perhaps not totally numb. His hands had started to tingle and his legs were beginning to burn. Glancing around, he wondered how much time he had left to categorize body parts before he died.

Dag Huet was the lesser threat. The boy had begun the long trek around the lake. Not even bothering to jog, the new dragonborn was moving deliberately, no doubt trying to remember how to walk. It would take him a while to get here.

The Sapphire dragon, on the other hand, was an immediate problem. It lived only to kill. That now its essence had a human component mattered only because it made the beast harder to destroy. Both dragon and Huet had to die at once. A hoarse cry split the air, guttural and terrifying. A dragon in its prime was impossible to kill; a man was defeated by sound long before the beast drew near. But this cry had been loud and grating at best.

This dragon was still immature. Like the boy, it was unseasoned and impetuous. Kiril could defeat it. At least, he had a chance if he could move. The tingling in his fingers abated. Sensation returned slowly to his weakened limbs, and Kiril grunted as he struggled to stand.

His knees quivered with pain, and his arm could not sustain the weight of his sword. The best he could do was lean over, gasping for breath as he braced himself in the cracked trunk of an aged tree. Where was the dragon? Shifting his gaze upward, Kiril swallowed, seeing the answer suddenly appear. What at one moment had been a tiny speck far distant, suddenly became an explosion of blue falling from the sky. The Sapphire was diving.

Straight at him. Kiril tried to straighten, but the shift in his weight caused a lancing pain in his knee. He staggered, gasping in agony, but a crazy grin split his face. Thank the Great Warrior Tiril the beast was still young. If the beast were a week older, Kiril would even now be engulfed in flame, cooked to toasty perfection in a delightful meal for man and beast. But the dragon was too young to have developed fire in his lungs, and so the wyrm would have to capture his prize and eat it raw.

Raw and still fully conscious. Kiril gritted his teeth, trying to force his thoughts away from his imminent demise. But he was a trained fighter, a seasoned dragon-killer. He should be able to think. The dragon was still young. And yet Kiril stood, waiting for his own death.

He had to move. He closed his eyes, forcibly blocking out the terror. Then, with deliberate thought, he flexed his muscles, calling for them to contract, to shift, to move.

Tense hip. Lift leg. Contract thigh. Extend leg. Shift weight That last had not been part of the plan, but somehow it worked. Stupid dragon.



Dragonborn Learn more at Author Central. The rest of you, listen up. The main characters have jxde, and the dragons themselves are intelligent and have an agenda all their own. The worst part is I loved her writing style and the world she created. Belinda Simmons marked it as to-read Jul 19, Battle, battle, Buddhism or a cute sloth.








Related Articles