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Dragon Quotes

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Dragon Quotes

“Mulan was proud of these women. Proud of their calm preparations, proud of the ease with which they strapped on their weapons, their gentle yet firm touch with their horses. And she was proud, most of all, of the banner that flew over their heads. It was mud yellow rather than the rich gold of palace silks, since mud yellow was the only shade Ruolan could manage with the herbs at hand. The dragon and phoenix pictured on it were bare outlines. But Ruolan and Wenling had stayed up all night to embroider them, and Mulan could see the heart that had gone into every stitch. Now they would put down their needles and wield their swords with no less skill.”

“Crisp autumn leaves whip our faces, but then, we break free from the canopy. Nothing but vast sky surrounds us above and all around. Below, Fable Town stretches as far as my eyes can see. Adjusting his satchel strap around his chest, Scorch straightens out his flight path to run parallel to the ground. We skim the clouds over dwarfs' cottages and fairy rings of red-capped mushrooms. Scorch crests a hill, and the impenetrable canopy of trees that makes up Villain Village stretches beneath us. In the distance, the spire of a crumbling, dark castle rises over a tangled, thorny thicket. A salty breeze ruffles my eyelashes, and before I know it, Scorch plunges down a cliff and flies us over the Fabled Sea. I spot the deep blue water where we fell. The half-submersed shipwreck. The beach where we collapsed in tearful, soggy joy. We fly over a rocky promontory where the mermaid warbles her siren song up at us, but the wind blows away her words before she can ensnare us.”

“Sitting on top of a burning cottage was a huge gold and green scaled dragon. Its massive wings closed around its body. Its spiked tail flicked, sending large parts of the roof crashing to the square below. In its right claw, it held Andorria. It rotated its head from right to left, spewing out large streams of flames. "Nice of you to join us, Aiden!" the dragon bellowed. Aiden took a step back. In great confusion, he recognized the voice.”

“Ryker grunted, rolling his shoulders with a creaking sound just as the wings came back out. His silver eyes shone brighter than before, and the clawed fingertips I saw on my first day here emerged. He was gorgeous, brutal, otherworldly. Scars and all, he could be the subject of a sculpture in any museum and captivate the observer. What had I been bantering with all this time? Sharing meals, sharing the loft. Shit. "Hello, Danica. You're looking at a dragon.”

“My parents are worried about me, so they take me to a lady, so I can talk about my dragon. She says she knows about dragons like mine. I am hoping for a magic spell or a dragon slayer, with sword in hand. No such luck; just a tiny woman dressed in a short skirt with a lot of pleats and a fancy top with tons of sparkles. […] She looks me in the eye and for some reason I don't feel like I have to look away.”

“Then I think-" she paused, and he could see her battle sudden tears of her own- "that I am ready to love the dragon again." He shook his head. "No... no more dragons, I promise." She cupped his face in between her hands. "Oh Drake, do you not see? You will always have a little of the dragon in you, and you should. It will aid you in your mission to change some of the atrocities of our world. And what lies between you and me... it no longer matters. For you see, dragon or no, I have become a knight." She smiled through her tears. "Your petit chevalier, in truth. I first protected the dragon, but God has tamed him. And I have always loved him. So breathe on, and make your fire. For I am not afraid." They cried together then, staring into each other's eyes. It was the end of one thing and the beginning of another. And Drake had no doubt. The love between them had been tested, purified by God's fire, even as the smith refines his silver. And now... it was ready to be poured forth, molded into their story.”

“I wanted to yell. I wanted to claw his eyes out. Sickeningly, I wanted him to bite me again. I wanted Ryker. And as if on cue, a roar to shatter the castle echoed through the halls. He'd come for me. My heart filled with emotion. It was joy, and want, and hope. My heart was full, and I could have cried. I looked Apollo in his dangerously red eyes. "Fuck you, Apollo," I managed to whisper. "My dragon is here.”

“Without knowing why, she brought her hair up to Pascal again. She knew he wouldn't be hurt. The little lizard was intrigued by whatever was going on; he nosed into her locks like a curious kitten. Immediately the sparkles that pulsed through her hair danced around him, falling and flickering. Soon they completely covered the little lizard like snow. Rapunzel watched, enchanted. Then he sneezed. Embers of magic flicked and faded as they fell to the earth. Rapunzel gasped. Pascal was perfectly fine. He just wasn't-- Pascal. He was an entirely different lizard. A lizard Rapunzel had never seen before, in books or anywhere. His eyes were now two balls that perched on the sides of his head and looked around independently of each other. His back was a graceful arch. His feet had two pairs of strange toes that opened up in the middle like claws. And his tail! It curled around and around and clasped onto her arm- prehensile and grasping, not a limp thing that just hung there to help with balance (and to occasionally break off and confuse a predator). And he was looking at himself! Holding his feet out one at a time and admiring them, thwacking the tip of his tail and snapping his mouth in satisfaction. Like a... person. He thoughtfully gazed back at his body, considering it. His skin suddenly started to change color: a wave of brown, and then red, pulsed through him from nose to tail. "Pascal!" Rapunzel cried. "You're a dragon!" She only wished he had turned into a slightly larger dragon so she could ride and/or hug him.”

“Chewie gave a bone-scented sigh and rubbed his jowl affectionately against her leg. "I can't tell you what to do, Beka. I can just tell you that I would be very sorry if you weren't my Baba. I've kind of gotten used to having you around." Beka blinked back unexpected emotion. "Thanks, Chewie. That's really sweet." He was quiet for a moment, and then said. "You know what's really sweet? S'mores, that's what." He gazed up at her with an innocent expression. "Just sayin'.”

“She leaned a shoulder against the tunnel wall and thought of Kellan. A Dragon King. A dragon and a King. A gorgeous man who kissed as if there were no tomorrow and made love skillfully, adeptly. He could have let her die. Instead, he took her on a journey that opened her eyes to an entirely new world both beautiful and frightening.”

“I don't force women to my bed, Danica." I shivered. Something about going back to the use of my full name had my skin tight, my breath bated at the sight of his feral grin. "They come willingly, and begging." "And is that something you want?" I was playing a dangerous game, egging on an actual dragon. A lesser shifter would have pounced on the teasing, the taunting between us, long ago. Not Ryker; he had all the time and patience in the world to play the games I'd been playing with him. "I can unveil the mark tonight if you want, but we both know it's already there between us. Everything after that can come as slowly as you need it to; in the end I already know you'll find your way to me as it was intended. I offer you my everything, Dani. My wings, my strength, my soul." He leaned down, his lips pulled into an amused curve as he rumbled in my ear. "My cock, if you think you're ready to cross that line and have me fuck you until you forget your own name.”

“-You find the metal, I’ll make the bell,” said Liam. “Listen, this rampage sounds like it’s going to make a real mess out of the city. I just got my studio rebuilt from the last fire, and I’m fairly certain my insurance doesn’t cover ‘acts of archangels.’ At least, not without a large deductible. Any ideas on how to stop the ritual?"-”

“This had to be the most curious situation in all of her life. Not that she had a great deal to compare it to, of course, living, as she had, quite a sheltered existence. But if anyone had ever had a friend quite like Periapt, she had yet to read about it. The most peculiar thing was the feeling, the conviction, that here was someone she had been looking for as a friend and companion her entire life. When they were talking and she wasn't actually looking at him- in the dark, say, when they would go up to the top of the tower to rest their eyes and look at the stars- she never, ever even thought about the fact that he was a dragon. In fact, if she was reading a book with him and he would say something aloud, she would get a kind of shock to her system when she looked up and saw, not a person, but a huge, dusky-emerald dragon head. The shock was getting worse, too, not better, every time she looked up and didn't see the studious young man she expected to see.”

“A league of dragons emerged from the steam, all in a white, cloudy vapor. They flew upward to the sky. The fragrance of the tea reminded me of the high altitudes of the mountain, the blooming peonies from the rooftop garden, and the brininess of the Singing Sea. The intoxicating taste introduced an umami flavor I'd never experienced in any drink. The punch from its intensity matched my first taste of flame song whiskey and its richness, that of the most pungent king oyster mushrooms.”

“She took down the framed manuscript from the kitchen wall. It was Kendra's prized possession, and part of her felt guilty for what she planned, but it had to be done. She carefully removed the parchment from its frame, then searched through the piles of translations and notes on the kitchen table. Finally she found the Secret Scroll on the chair where Kendra had been the night before. She carried both manuscripts upstairs and set them on her desk. Next she gathered paints and brushes and sat down. She studied the artwork on the Secret Scroll, then slowly began copying its rich patterns of gold, red, and blue onto Kendra's old manuscript. It was late afternoon when she finished. She studied her work. She had managed to copy the exotic birds and animals hidden in the foliage on the borders, and even the detailed picture of the goddess locking the jaws of hell. Her work was rough, but at a distance it would fool Toby or any of the Regulators, especially since they were afraid to touch it. Satisfied, she went to her closet. She searched through her clothes until she found the strapless top with the slit in the front. She slipped it over her head, then grabbed a silky black skirt and stepped into it. She carried her stiletto boots to the bed and tugged them on. At last she drew black liquid eyeliner over her top lid, added green glitter shadow, rolled thick mascara on her lashes, and brushed her hair. She added gloss to her lips and rubbed sparkle lotion over her arms and chest. Then she remembered the dragon stencils. Soon, she had a sinuous dragon adorning her thigh between the bottom of her skirt and the top of her boots. She liked the look. She turned in front of the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door. "Dynamite," she whispered. Her reflection thrilled her. She looked vamped-out and mystical. At once, she sensed the fierce power of the dragon rising in her. She felt like an invincible goddess-warrior.”

“Sylvie flicked her brush over the dragon, leaving a line of glittering pigment on the spiked tail. The edible paint had an oil-slick effect, shimmering from blue to pink to purple to black under the light. "What time do I have to---" Jay began. "Shhh," hissed about fifteen voices at once, as Sylvie picked up the dragon and set it on the lowest tier of the cake. Three layers of rich chocolate cake, covered in mirror glaze icing, marbled blue, purple, and black, with gold paint etched and feathered to replicate the appearance of the sugar dragon's scales. She wound the tail upward, adjusting the long curve to swoop neatly around the top tier, the very tip coming to rest protectively on the sculpted couple who sat on the edge, their legs dangling, tiny sugar ankles entwined. One totally edible princess with long black hair and thick eyeliner. Her endearingly fluffy blond love. And Caractacus, the dragon sentinel from the video game I, Slayer, over which the royal couple had apparently bonded, turning an excruciating first private date into an all-nighter. From curt questions and stammering answers to a beer-drinking, ogre-bashing bonk-fest. Just like all good fairy tales. The Brothers Grimm would be proud.”

“He blinked in surprise and was even more startled when the dragon mimicked the action, but did so sideways. A clear membrane coated its eye, then drew back to reveal hues infinitely more searing than before—so vibrant it was painful for Roger to look into them. Orange pulsating like a lava flow, yellow glistening brighter than a city made of gold, green flashing like St. Elmo’s fire. All these colors danced not a foot in front of Roger’s face, flickering within that gigantic orb...”

“Fangs grew, eyes blazed, claws and scales and burning rage ripped through me. The burning shift in my frame strained, grew, roared to life in my too-tight skin until everything was covered in hard scales. Vampires and fae alike scattered in my shadow. I guess they hadn't told all the fae of what I was. But it didn't matter because my focus lay entirely on the death-and-flesh scent of more powerful vampires just out of sight. I roared, shaking the very skies. I'm ready, fuckers. Come at me.”