By Shana Abe
They're the stuff of glittering legend, supersensual creatures capable of shape-shift from human to smoke to dragon. Now they face an enemy decided to break their excellent global of magic and keenness. Queen of Dragons It’s a beautiful declare: the lifestyles of a misplaced drákon tribe. And it comes from an interesting resource: a lady calling herself Princess Maricara of Transylvania. Alpha lord Kimber Langford, Earl of Chasen, can’t forget about the chance. For whoever this unknown princess will be, she’s risky adequate to understand approximately his existence—and the place to discover him. And certainly, it isn’t lengthy earlier than Maricara breaches the defenses of Darkfrith and the partitions round Kimber’s middle. but the princess arrives with pressing information: a mysterious serial killer is concentrating on the total drákon race. to avoid wasting their style, Kimber and Mari needs to best friend themselves physique and soul in a conflict which can spell their salvation, their extinction…or either.
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Additional info for Queen of Dragons (The Drakon, Book 3)
But that was centuries ago. On this day it offered only one fresh discovery to the drenched shepherd: the remains of a man with a hole in his chest, and fair hair that had frozen into icicles, slowly thawing beneath a blanket of snow. And a ring made of gold. A signet ring. The news reached the castle that afternoon. By four o’clock Sandu had tracked Maricara not to the mine—he wasn’t surprised she wouldn’t go there—but to the high and bleak peaks of the most remote of the mountains, higher than any of the Others would go.
His lips pressed tight, and she sighed, looking away. “This afternoon, first thing. ” Sandu faced away too, his eyes tearing. His feet were numb to the ankles. He crossed his arms and clenched his fingers into his elbows to control the shivers, but Maricara only stood there like a rock, like a statue, unmoving. Her hair curved around him once more, a cloak of dark wind. “I don’t think they’ll believe me,” he said softly, and blinked to rid the salt from his vision. “I don’t know. ” “Then they are going to die,” she answered.
But there were punishments for such transgressions, not the least of which was social banishment. His grandmother had died a widow, and alone. It was better to keep to their own. The drákon chose mates for life. It was a plain fact among them. One male, one female, and from them new generations to sustain the shire. Courting and wooing followed a more human path, it was true, with a fair amount of leniency allowed to young sweethearts. There were lovers’ games and tears and heartbreaks aplenty across the village—maidens who liked boys, boys who liked other maidens, an endless cycle of flirtation and investigation.