Onyx Storm Dragon Quotes

To the ones who don’t run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.

Every possible path may require breaking a few laws.” “Dragons do not answer to the laws of humans,” she counters in a tone that reminds me of Tairn. “And as my bonded, as Tairn’s rider, you no longer answer to them, either.

The only thing more stubborn than a dragon is its rider. —Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide to Dragonkind

She lost a dragon,” Mira shouts. “Not a boyfriend. It’s not a breakup.” Her gaze swings to Xaden. “No offense.” The emptiness threatens to overwhelm me again, but Tairn inundates the bond with a deluge of defiance and indignation. “Focus on now, on him if you have to.” I still have both of them: Tairn and Xaden. “None taken.” Xaden folds his arms but doesn’t look away. “We’re past the breakup stage.

There are two reasons rider cadets are not given the same summer and winter leave as others: Firstly, civilians do not react well to dragons casually roaming their villages. Secondly, raising tigers for war requires locking their cages lest they turn on each other…or you. —Sharpen the Talon: A Professor’s Guide by Colonel Tispany Calthea

It was negligent, and a twenty-two-year-old dragon should know better than to close himself off from his riot simply because he’s arguing with his rider,

Anyone who’s ever dated a rider knows their first priority—their first love—is their dragon. Once you accept that, another man hardly feels like a challenge.

Never forget that dragon riders have been selected, trained, and even bred for cruelty. Expecting mercy from a rider is a mistake, for none will be given. —Chapter One: The Tactical Guide to Defeating Dragons by Colonel Elijah Joben

she dives left, smacking into an invisible wall and falling backward. A wall that snarls. Scales shimmer to the same silver-blue as my strike, and a small dragon stalks toward Theophanie, her head low, teeth bared. And just like that, my stammering heartbeat stabilizes. Andarna.

My face feels like it’s been blasted by dragon fire. “How would you like this to go?” Dain asks me as Narelle glances among the three of us, her silver brows knitting. “Just like it’s gone for the last eighteen months,” Xaden answers, losing any and all trace of the niceties he showed Dain an hour ago. “Everyone assumes she’ll wind up with you, but it’s my last name she ends up wearing on her flight jacket in formation.

Bold strategy,” Bodhi notes, watching them depart. “Sending our biggest dragon away is definitely not going to bite us in the ass.

A dragon determines its last flight, and its rider’s. —Article One, Section Two The Dragon Rider’s Codex

No rider has ever survived the loss of their dragon. I can’t imagine wanting to.

Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.

Scales shimmer to the same silver-blue as my strike, and a small dragon stalks toward Theophanie, her head low, teeth bared. And just like that, my stammering heartbeat stabilizes. Andarna.

Dragons do not answer to the laws of humans,” she counters in a tone that reminds me of Tairn. “And as my bonded, as Tairn’s rider, you no longer answer to them, either.” “Rebellious adolescent,” I mutter,

Is that how you feel when you dip your shoulder for me?” I ask Tairn. “Dishonored?” “I am the second-largest dragon on the Continent and a revered warrior. My tales are legendary. My mate unparalleled. My feats unmatched—” “Doesn’t change my question.” I cut him off before he starts to list his accolades. “It would take a great deal more than a change of posture to dishonor me,” he replies.

In the hope and excitement this new development of the bonds between dragons, gryphons, and their humans brings, I wonder who has stopped to contemplate the nature of magic’s balance. Do we not risk the equal rise of the very powers we seek to wield? —Recorded Correspondence of Nirali Ilan, Commanding General, Cliffsbane Fortress, to Lyra Mykel, Deputy Commanding General, Basgiath War Camp

I wasn’t asking for my father, Vi. I was asking for me.” “You what?” I forget all pretense of watching the sparring match, giving Halden my full attention. “I never told you I was sorry.” His face softens, and his gaze skims over my face like he’s noticing every detail that’s changed. “And I should have. If you’re not with Riorson—” “I am in love with him.” I bristle. “I haven’t so much as thought about you in years. Don’t chase just because you like a challenge. You’ll lose.” Halden scoffs. “Anyone who’s ever dated a rider knows their first priority—their first love—is their dragon. Once you accept that, another man hardly feels like a challenge.” My lips part. He’s right. Our first priorities are our dragons. They’re irreplaceable. “Besides, with all this time we have coming up together on this mission, I thought maybe you’d at least be willing to have a quiet dinner with me?” His smirk slips. “Tell me you don’t let your non-boyfriend control you. Allow me to apologize properly, the way I should have three years ago.” He lifts a hand toward the loosened strands of my braid, but never makes it. Shadows blast straight through the wards and hit Halden in the chest like a battering ram, sending the crown prince of Navarre flying backward—straight into the rock wall. Shit.

Do not mistake a dragon’s bond for fealty. If you expect a dragon to choose their rider over the well-being of their own kind, prepare for two things: disappointment and death. —Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide to Dragonkind

You have mediocre guards. I have ten lethally trained riders and fliers, four gryphons, and seven pissed-off dragons. The odds are in my favor.

What happens to me if you turn?” My hands curl at my sides. “What happens to Tairn and Sgaeyl if you give in?” Xaden’s jaw flexes. “Do venin get once-a-week visits?” I take a step closer and lift my chin. “Does their bond survive you turning? Does ours? You and I are tethered for life, Xaden Riorson. Am I expected to turn with you? Is that the only way to keep our dragons alive if you give up?

their first love—is their dragon.

Official numbers are four riders, their dragons, and three elders murdered in the valley in what we’re estimating is the last few hours,” Weilsen says.

There are times I look at Parapet, at the very act of Threshing and marvel that dragons have not been to Unnbriel. What we call treacherous is their idea of primary school. —Unnbriel: Isle of Dunne by Second Lieutenant Asher Daxton

Do not mistake a dragon’s bond for fealty. If you expect a dragon to choose their rider over the well-being of their own kind, prepare for two things: disappointment and death.

What they never tell us in the quadrant is that rank is well and good, but you and I both know that the moment we fly onto the battlefield, it isn’t the humans giving commands. I hate to break it to you, but you were selected by a general among dragons. You can choose to step into leadership, or he can drag you. Either way, you’re going to end up in front.

No rider has ever survived the loss of their dragon. I can’t imagine wanting to. —Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide To Dragonkind

While cadets are strongly encouraged not to form romantic attachments while studying in the quadrant, lieutenants are permitted to marry whomever they choose upon graduation. —Article Five, Section Seven The Dragon Rider’s Codex

You’ve let us run all over this kingdom searching brothels and gaming houses for you, and all the while, you’ve been here?” “The fact that you went searching your favorite haunts for me is just the start of where you went wrong,” Aaric replies. “You’re a rider?” Halden shouts. “As the dragon would imply.” Ridoc points to Molvic.

When I look up, everyone is staring at me. “What? I kept the gryphons close and paired dragons with similar flight strengths”—my gaze finds Xaden’s, and he’s not amused with my group pairings—“except for ours. Tairn and Sgaeyl have the best chance of staying in contact when separated if the rest of these islands have the same level of magic. It’s better for the group if they split for the day.” He arches his scarred brow. “Just you and me today, honey bear.” Garrick swings his arm over Xaden’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he leans in and whispers. “I’ll take good care of you.” He flashes a dimple.

A dragon determines its last flight, and its rider’s.

No. I’m just here because Halden can’t control his temper and Violet didn’t just bond one of our most terrifying battle dragons, but also an irid—the seventh breed. Dark wielders are spreading. People are dying as we sit here. Every day we’re gone could change the battle map in ways we can’t begin to predict. And my kingdom is full of assholes who won’t take refugees under king’s orders, so tracking down the irids is our best hope of not only adding to our numbers but maybe figuring out how we beat the venin six hundred years ago.

She’s just surprised.” Andarna rises, but she leaves her head level with the others. “And you’re in her face.” To my complete and utter shock, all six dragons take a step back. “Thank you,” Andarna says.

Guess arrogance is a universal dragon trait.

A dragon determines its last flight, and its rider’s. —Article One, Section Two The Dragon Rider’s Codex

To the ones who don't run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.

She wiggles her finger at Xaden. “I heard you saying you’d kill my grandson if he took another step toward your beloved, young man. How illogically, toxically romantic of you. Have to admit, that kind of confident violence isn’t what I pictured when Asher talked about you, but the brown hair, those…I guess they’re brown eyes, and how utterly smitten he predicted you two would eventually be for each other? Well, he described you almost perfectly, Dain Aetos.” Oh, fucking kill me now. My mouth opens, then shuts. Xaden raises both eyebrows and presses his lips between his teeth. Dain rubs the back of his neck. Mira snorts once, covers her mouth with her hand, then doubles over laughing. “I’m sorry,” she forces out and straightens, quickly masking her face and clearing her throat, but she slips again, her shoulders shaking. “I can’t. I just can’t. I need a second.” She walks behind the row of shelves, hopefully to compose herself. My face feels like it’s been blasted by dragon fire.

No rider has ever survived the loss of their dragon. I can’t imagine wanting to. —Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide To Dragonkind

I am the second-largest dragon on the Continent and a revered warrior. My tales are legendary. My mate unparalleled. My feats unmatched—

I hate to break it to you, but you were selected by a general among dragons. You can choose to step into leadership, or he can drag you. Either way, you’re going to end up in front.

I glance past Berwyn, past Sgaeyl and the venin, to my new brother and the unconscious dragon lying in the valley beyond the canyon, guarded by seven wyvern. How could he do this? Choose this after watching me stumble and fall over the last five months. How could he willingly walk the path I’ve fought like hell to leave? He’s the last person I ever would have expected to turn, and yet here we are.

You and I are tethered for life, Xaden Riorson. Am I expected to turn with you? Is that the only way to keep our dragons alive if you give up?

think I know why riders die when their dragons do.” His fingers pause before he continues. “Why?” “It’s not just the deficit of power,” I muse, cupping the bathwater with my hand, then letting it flow out between my fingers. “In that moment, I didn’t know who I was, where I belonged, or why I should bother breathing. If Tairn hadn’t grounded me, I think I would have willingly floated away.

To the ones who don't run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.

There are times I look at Parapet, at the very act of Threshing and marvel that dragons have not been to Unnbriel. What we call treacherous is their idea of primary school.

We make decisions as a squad. We’ll take whatever punishment you want to give us as a squad. What we won’t do is stand by while civilians die, regardless of what citizenship they hold. And before you ask, every single dragon and gryphon agreed.

But they’re failing, just like every generation before us has failed, and if we do the same…” I shake my head, fumbling for words. “You’ve seen what’s out there. Either this alliance begins right here with us, with our generation, or we will be the last dragon riders and gryphon fliers on the Continent.

If I’m to be court-martialed for helping Braxtyn defend his people, then I shall welcome the trial. All who channel from dragon and gryphon alike should flourish under the wards, and now Aretia will be that haven should one of the others ever return. —Journal of Lyra of Morraine —Translated by Cadet Jesinia Neilwart

Does their bond survive you turning? Does ours? You and I are tethered for life, Xaden Riorson. Am I expected to turn with you? Is that the only way to keep our dragons alive if you give up?

take stock of who we have on the floor. On Rhiannon’s right, Bragen and Neve—the third-year fliers—stand with Imogen and Quinn, and to Ridoc’s left are Trager, Cat, Maren, Baylor, Avalynn, Sloane, and Kai. Aaric and Lynx are seated behind us, and it catches me off guard to realize that all four of the first-years in the First Wing squad are sitting, too. Dragons are taking their time when it comes to channeling.

I’ll let you keep both your dragons while giving you what you want most in the world.” Her gaze drops to the conduit as wind pulses. The others must be here. “Control and knowledge.

You do your dragons—and gryphons—proud.

Calling cadets into active service in times of war may only be authorized by the Commanding General of Basgiath. —Article Eight, Section One The Dragon Rider’s Codex

Official numbers are four riders, their dragons, and three elders murdered in the valley in what we’re estimating is the last few hours,” Weilsen says. “And we still have five riders missing—four now,” he adds, looking at me. His mouth tenses. “But after that display, we all know Riorson did this. I bet the other three are already dead.

Anyone who’s ever dated a rider knows their first priority—their first love—is their dragon.

Dragons do not answer to the laws of humans,” she counters in a tone that reminds me of Tairn. “And as my bonded, as Tairn’s rider, you no longer answer to them, either.

Never forget that dragon riders have been selected, trained, and even bred for cruelty. Expecting mercy from a rider is a mistake, for none will be given.

Denied,” the captain answers. “She does not meet with those unworthy of her presence, and given how easy it was to walk up to your encampment, the chances of your worth”—his gaze skims over the line of us, and he scoffs after a quick appraisal of my stature—“are minimal.” Fuck him. Branches sway as the dragons and gryphons walk out of the trees around us, loosely surrounding the platoon. “We made it easy, Captain.” I cock my head to the side and flip my dagger to pinch its tip as Tairn growls at my back, low and mean. Just the way I like him. “Rest assured, we can make it difficult, too.

Sorry, but if you abduct our royalty, we scare the shit out of you with our dragons. Seems pretty fair to me.

The only thing more stubborn than a dragon is its rider.

I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive him for what he’s done to her. Oh gods. They’d never seen dragons until our squad arrived. “Mom didn’t take me.” My eyes sting at the unexpected betrayal. “Dad did.

Baylor sees seventeen,” Feirge responds a second later. Seventeen. Against three dragons and four gryphons. Shit. “That’s a little menacing,” I admit to Feirge.

She lost a dragon,” Mira shouts. “Not a boyfriend. It’s not a breakup.” Her gaze swings to Xaden. “No offense.

When Cygnisen’s fliers arrive, we’ll be near maximum capacity in the dorms, which only makes me realize just how many dragons have stopped bonding in the last century.

Supongo que la arrogancia es un rasgo universal de todos los dragones.

A los que no siguen al rebaño, a los que pillan leyendo debajo de la mesa, a los que tienen la sensación de que nunca los invitan, los incluyen o los representan. Poneos la ropa de vuelo, tenemos unos dragones en los que montar.

How often do second signets accompany these particular relics?” My fingers trail down the side of his neck. “Often enough to be sure Kaori can’t possibly have accurate records, but not too completely that anyone questions why I only present with one,” he answers. “Our dragons came looking for us. They knew what they were doing.

His gaze falls to me, as if I need the reminder of his proposal to join his collection as his on-call guard dog in return for the privilege of growing old with Xaden and our dragons in the peace of his estate in the isles. “That offer still stands.