|| FIRE DESCENDANTS SERIES: BOOK 1 ||
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"Fires may rise and storms may break, but none shall stand against the wrath of Vezhofrēnor and the blood of old Valyria. We are flame, we are fury, and the skies are ours."
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In wh...
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑
INTO THE STORM
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With a gentle pivot of her body, she directs her gaze towards Tony, and a soft, genuine smile graces her lips. "I do apologize for keeping your calls waiting," she expresses, her voice a melodious blend of contrition and warmth.
"But you see, I've never been the type to eagerly rush into the fray and attempt to rescue the entire world," she confesses, her eyes holding a hint of amusement at the thought. Her delicate fingers begin to toy with a lock of her hair, twirling it around her index finger as she speaks. "That was always more my mother's domain," she continues, her words suffused with a tender nostalgia. "My mother, Dany, known as Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt," she adds with a touch of pride, "was the one who truly embodied the spirit of selflessness and valor, never turning a blind eye to those who were in dire need of assistance."
She pauses for a brief moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle before she resumes speaking, "Her compassion was boundless, and her willingness to help was as fierce as the dragons she once called her children." Her voice is filled with reverence as she recounts her mother's legacy, and it's clear that the woman standing before him is contemplating the profound impact that her mother's altruistic nature has had on her own life. "But as for me," she concludes with a sigh, "I find myself navigating the complexities of my own path, one that doesn't necessarily mirror hers in every respect."
Rhaelyria exhales deeply, her shoulders drooping slightly as she intertwines her fingers together, contemplating the gravity of the situation. "Tony," she murmurs, her voice laden with concern, "I'm truly sorry, but I'm just not certain if I possess the strength or capability to stand alongside you and the Avengers in confronting a deity." She averts her gaze from him, her eyes glistening with a mix of doubt and fear.
Tony's heart skips a beat at her words, the weight of her uncertainty striking him like a blow. Without a moment's hesitation, he reaches out with a gentle touch, his hand coming to rest on her bare arm in an attempt to offer comfort and reassurance. However, the sudden, protective growl from VEZHOFRĒNOR, the mighty dragon, causes him to pause, his hand hovering just above her skin. The dragon's emerald eyes flash with a fierce intensity as he bares his sharp teeth, the lisp he usually speaks with momentarily forgotten in his protective stance.
"Do not lay your hands upon my rider," VEZHOFRĒNOR warns, his tone low and menacing, "unless she has explicitly granted you permission to do so." The dragon's head sways as he speaks, his powerful neck muscles rippling with each syllable. Tony's hand trembles slightly before he withdraws it, his gaze locked on the creature that seems to radiate a fiery challenge.
