Hulya Kara Yuksel

“Medra Pendragon is hereby declared the Second Betrothed Consort of Prince Blake Drakharrow,” Lord Drakharrow was decreeing to the crowd. “She is not to be touched. If she is fed upon, there will be slaughter. All in this hall have been warned.”
― Briar Boleyn, On Wings of Blood

“Blake Drakharrow was beautiful in a way I didn't want to admit. In a way that made my blood simmer and my mind spin with confusion. How could someone so vile be so compelling?”
― Briar Boleyn, On Wings of Blood

“That was…” I let out a laugh because words are not going to be my strength right now. “Delicious,” he says, smiling as he stares up at me from his knees. His face still hovers between my legs with my arousal smeared along his lips and mustache. Lowering my legs from his grip, he allows my feet to fully meet the ground. “I thought you were sexy before, but seeing you like this, with the smell of you on my beard and the taste of you in my mouth…” He rests his chin on my thigh, a glazed-over look in his half-lidded eyes. “How am I not supposed to fall in love with you now?”
― Victoria Wilder, Bourbon & Lies

“Dragons were more valuable to the realm than healers,” the teacher went on. “Healers were expendable. And so countless healers were sent to try to save the dragons. So many that their names have been lost to history. Conveniently so. My great-great-grandmother’s name was remembered because my family honored her legacy and her sacrifice. But many were forgotten. Or if they were remembered, it was only as failures in the eyes of the highbloods. Healers, you see, could not save the dragons. The last dragon died out. And so did the riders. Until now.”
― Briar Boleyn, On Wings of Blood