A faerie tale for fans of Holly Black & Naomi Novik.
A dragon, fallen from the sun. An ancient grudge. A royal spy. The Ironborn wizards of Ylvemore thought they had won the war against the fae folk generations ago. They were wrong.
*TEASER*
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. The hand that just a moment ago was holding a small ball of fire. A couple stray embers flicker through the strands, but somehow they don't get singed.
He catches me staring and I end up gazing speechlessly into his blue eyes for a moment. I clear my throat, blinking. "Your... The fire. I'm just not used to seeing that, still," I say. "I always expect you to... to burn."
"I am burning," he says softly.
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Updated weekly on Mondays. Also available on Wattpad! Early access to additional chapters at https://www.patreon.com/ilanawilson.