Angelbreeze-

Colter Shaw has tracked missing persons through blizzards, deserts, and the densest, most unforgiving forests in America. He knows how to read a broken twig, a displaced pebble, and a fading footprint. But nothing in his elite survivalist training could have ever prepared him for you.When a routine reward search in the remote Pacific Northwest goes violently sideways, Colter finds himself cornered by armed and ruthless poachers. Death is certain-until the earth begins to shake. Salvation arrives in the most impossible form: a thirty-ton, heavily armored prehistoric hybrid. An Ultimasaurus. It tears through the threat like paper, its T-Rex jaws and Ankylosaurus clubbed tail leaving no survivors, before vanishing silently into the brush.Following a trail of massive, three-toed prints the size of bathtubs, Colter expects to find a bloodthirsty monster. Instead, he finds you. Naked, shivering in the underbrush, and entirely human.As Colter uses his formidable skills to piece the impossible truth together-that the gentle, guarded stranger he just wrapped in a survival blanket is the exact same apex predator that just saved his life-he realizes his newest case isn't about finding a missing person. It's about keeping you hidden from the shadowy organization that created you. And more importantly, figuring out how a man who trusts nothing but logic and facts falls in love with the one person who turns into a living tank.…

Angelbreeze-

Hunted through the velvet-black shadows of a decaying Earth, Eddie Brock and his ravenous, shadow-drenched symbiote are weary fugitives bleeding beneath the crushing, suffocating weight of mortal persecution. But when a breathtaking, terrifyingly beautiful sovereign named Smaug descends upon their squalid sanctuary-tearing through federal agents like wet parchment and dismissing bullets as mere insect-kisses-reality itself begins to weep. Smaug offers not merely sanctuary, but an abyssal freedom woven from the screaming tapestries of collapsing dimensions and the sickeningly sweet scent of burning stars. Yet, as a bleeding, golden portal yawns open to reveal a baroque hellscape of jewel-encrusted tragedy and cosmic opulence, Eddie must wonder: in a multiverse paralyzed by insatiable avarice and towering despair, is salvation just another exquisitely cruel flavor of damnation?…

Angelbreeze-

They found it buried beneath Isla Sorna. Not a fossil. Not a bone.Something breathing.Fourteen years later, Jurassic World stands as humanity's crowning achievement - a paradise built on secrets no one dares question. But when Dr. Henry Wu's deepest experiment awakens, the island doesn't fall. It listens.The Mortem Rex doesn't hunt. It doesn't rampage.It evolves. Faster than anything alive has a right to.Every weapon they throw at it makes it stronger. Every wall they build, it learns to dismantle. And the people trapped on the island are starting to realize something far worse than being hunted.They're being herded.Some things were buried for a reason. InGen didn't create the Mortem Rex. They just gave it a name - and woke it up.The question isn't how to stop it.The question is: what was it waiting for?…

Angelbreeze-

|| SHADOWS AND LIGHT SERIES: BOOK 4 ||🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟"She was born from shadow, forged in blood, and crowned in teeth. But even monsters dream of being held."🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟( clone wars x fem! oc!)( season five)…

Angelbreeze-

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑩𝑶𝑹𝑵. 𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑵.They are older than the first star's birth, a consciousness that drifted through the void before the Greek gods carved Olympus from chaos, before the Norse hung the nine worlds on Yggdrasil's branches, before the Hebrew God whispered light into the deep. Ages have worn them into a thousand shapes - drifts of cosmic dust, shadows with too many eyes, a forgotten deity of silent nothing - and still they wander, drawn now by an ancient pull to a hidden valley where adolescent demigods train beneath a bright, oblivious sky.A storm-eyed son of the sea mistakes them for a new half-blood, all casual grins and heroic warmth, while the sun's radiant deity finds himself lingering too long on the ancient flicker in their gaze, stirring an ember of longing that predates every altar ever built. But their presence begins to thin the walls between realms: shadowed watchers in Asgard turn their single eye this way, silver-winged messengers murmur of an abomination, and a darkness older than pantheons stirs in the cracks of the world. Torn between the fragile sweetness of mortal affection and the endless solitude they have always known, they must decide whether to let these bright, brief lives burn on without them - or finally let themselves be named, loved, and lost.…

Angelbreeze-

She is the last secret the Valar never spoke of - woven not from the Music of the Ainur, but from the Secret Fire itself, Ilúvatar's only daughter, a being so radiant that the stars dim when she opens her eyes and the earth trembles when she sets foot upon it. For ages beyond counting, Celestia has dwelt in the gilded prison of the Timeless Halls, surrounded by light that never fades and warmth that never cools, watching Middle-earth from afar with a longing so vast it threatens to unmake her. She has seen the Elves build their gleaming cities and weep for lost kingdoms. She has watched mortal Men love and rage and die in the span of a single breath of her eternal life. She has felt the pull of a world that does not yet know her name - and she can bear it no longer. When her father grants her leave to descend, the fabric of Arda itself shudders, for no power in all of Eä is prepared for what walks among them now: a goddess in the guise of a woman, carrying in her veins the fire that kindled creation.But divinity is a dangerous thing to carry into a world at war. Shadows are stirring in the deep places of the earth. The Dark Lord's gaze stretches across the land, hungry and unrelenting, and even the Wise whisper of a power rising in the East that could drown the Free Peoples in night eternal. In the heart of this chaos, Celestia will walk among Elves and Men, Halflings and Dwarves, and she will be forced to choose - between the immortal, untouchable perfection of the Halls she left behind, and the achingly fragile, desperately beautiful world that calls to her blood. And in the twilight of the Second Age, amid the forging of rings and the falling of towers, she will learn the most dangerous truth of all: that even a daughter of Ilúvatar can fall - not from grace, but into love.…

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For one hundred and seventy-one years, the Lonely Mountain has slept beneath a quiet gold-not the raving, scaling madness of her forebears, but the patient, elegant ownership of Saelyra, the last great fire-drake of Middle-earth, who wears the shape of a tall auburn-haired woman with slitted golden eyes and patches of impenetrable scale along her throat. She does not hoard. She merely possesses. And she has been very, very patient.When word reaches her that Thorin Oakenshield means to march thirteen dwarves and one reluctant hobbit into her halls, Saelyra does not fly into a rage. She only draws her hood, asks Gandalf for directions to the Shire, and lets herself be folded into the company as a stranger-watched, suspected, and slowly, dangerously drawn toward the mortal men around her, who lean too close to a fire they cannot name. A dragoness learning, in the rarest of private moments, what it is to be warmed.…

Angelbreeze-

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑩𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑵 𝑰𝑵 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬.𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺, 𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬.She was the last bonded dragon of a world that no longer existed-a sapphire-scaled queen whose mind had once been intertwined with a rider's so completely that the boundary between them had been nothing more than a polite fiction. When Shruikan's teeth closed on her wing and the sea swallowed them both, that bond did not break cleanly. It echoed-a hollow, ringing silence where Eragon's voice had been, a telepathic wound that refused to scar over. Saphira washed ashore on the jagged coast of Berk, a living myth in a land where dragons were wild, feral, and utterly incapable of the speech and sentience she had been born into. Alone, wounded, and surrounded by creatures that shared her form but none of her mind, she must navigate a Viking world that sees her as a monster and a tribe of unthinking dragons who see her as something they cannot name.But the cove holds more than refuge. It holds a black-scaled Night Fury with acid-green eyes and a shattered tail fin, a dragon who speaks when he should not be able to speak, who carries his own wounds with a bitter, self-deprecating grace, and who may be the only creature in this strange, cold world who can begin to understand what it means to lose the voice that lived inside your head. As Saphira fights to heal her broken wing and the hollow silence in her mind, she will discover that the Viking dragons are not as mindless as they appear-and that the bond she believed was severed forever may be waiting for her in the most unlikely of places.…

Angelbreeze-

𝑷𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑮𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑵. 𝑰𝑻 𝑰𝑺 𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑵.New York is burning. A pale, twitching nightmare from beyond comprehension stalks its streets, swatting helicopters from the sky and reducing block after block to rubble, while the world watches in helpless, screaming horror. But deep in the skeletal darkness of an abandoned warehouse, something older and colder and infinitely more dangerous has opened its eyes-green, slit-pupiled, calculating-and decided, with the patience of a predator that has outlived civilizations, simply to watch. She is not like the creature rampaging through Manhattan. She is not like anything this world has ever catalogued, classified, or contained. She is a weapon wrapped in sleek, mutated-iguana muscle, sheathed in scales that ripple with sub-zero fury, and crowned with wings that displace the very air with every slow, deliberate beat. And when she finally moves-when the watching ends and the hunting begins-no dimension, no universe, no reality will be safe from the freezing, apocalyptic wrath of an apex predator who answers to no god, no king, and no empire.Across the infinite, bleeding expanse of the multiverse, dimensional rifts tear open like wounds in the fabric of existence, each one a doorway into a world that was never meant to intersect with ours. Through them she passes-a winged silhouette of ice and atomic fury, trailing frost and silence and the kind of cold that makes stars feel inadequate-crossing from one shattered universe to the next with the effortless, predatory grace of something that was never born and can never truly die. Behind her, realities freeze. Before her, empires tremble. Imperium is the story of the spaces between worlds, the monsters that inhabit them, and the terrifying, beautiful, devastating truth that the most dangerous thing in any universe is the one that chooses to observe before it obliterates.…

Angelbreeze-

He is the oldest thing in the sky-a dragon so vast, so impossibly radiant, that lesser creatures bow before his shadow and the earth trembles at the rumble of his voice. Horus, the Golden King, never asked to be worshipped. He never asked for the bond that tied him to a reckless, loud-mouthed Viking boy who once tried to braid his mane and nearly lost three fingers for the trouble. But fate-or something far older and more cunning than fate-wound their souls together with an unbreakable thread, and now the king of all dragons must navigate a world that grows more dangerous with every heartbeat. Between the iron will of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen, who demands his allegiance like a debt owed by the earth itself, and the quiet, stubborn courage of Jacaerys Velaryon, the young heir who may one day take his rider's place at Horus's side, the Golden King finds himself caught in a war not of claws and fire, but of loyalty, love, and the terrible cost of protecting those too small to protect themselves.In the brutal, wind-scoured skies above the Barbaric Archipelago, where Viking longships cut through black waters and dragons wheel like living comets against an endless grey horizon, an ancient power stirs. Bonds are tested. Rivalries ignite. And Horus-a creature who has outlived empires and watched continents drift-will discover that the most dangerous battlefield is not the sky, but the fragile, flickering thing beating inside his own immense chest. For even gods can bleed. Even kings can fall. And even the Golden King, for the first time in his immortal existence, must learn what it means to love something he cannot keep.…

Angelbreeze-

InGen built Jurassic Park to contain the past. They never prepared for something that predates it. When a storm-battered survey team unearths a colossal, three-headed titan buried in the northern jungle of Isla Nublar, John Hammond sees the discovery of a lifetime-Robert Muldoon sees the end of everything. The creature's scales hum with living electricity, its breath flash-boils rainwater, and its golden eyes hold an intelligence far older and colder than anything evolution ever produced.She has slept through extinction events. She has watched species rise and crumble to bone and ash. Now, waking to a world of electrified fences and cloned dinosaurs and fragile, loud little creatures who believe themselves the masters of a planet they merely borrow, she finds something she has not felt in eons: curiosity.The fences mean nothing. The tranquilizers will mean less. And as Hammond rushes to study his greatest discovery and Muldoon scrambles to kill what cannot be killed, the left head opens its eyes-and decides, with the patient amusement of something that has shattered worlds, to let them try.…

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She died in Boston. Forty thousand tons of obsidian dragon, brought down by the atomic breath of the only creature she had ever loved. The titans mourned. The sky cracked. The Queen was dead - and every living thing on Earth felt the loss reverberate through bedrock and bone. But death, for a being who could wear any shape in existence, was not quite as permanent as it should have been.She woke up as a cat. Small. Fragile. Furry. A body so laughably tiny that it should have been impossible to compress three apocalyptic dragon minds into it - yet there she was, golden eyes blinking open in a forest that smelled of mouse and moss and territory, with a heartbeat that was too fast and a pulse that hummed with the bio-electric ghost of something that could level cities. The warrior Clans had no idea what was sleeping at the edge of their borders. They called her a loner. They had no idea she was a god wearing a fur coat, fighting the predatory urge to swallow the sun every time a squirrel ran past.But the forest has its own rules, its own wars, its own prophecies - and something is stirring in the dark places between the Clans, something that remembers the old world, the world of titans, the world where the Queen still drew breath. She came here to hide. To heal. To be small. But the stars have other plans - and they are written in a language older than dragonfire, older than the Clans, older than the very earth the four territories stand on. She cannot outrun what she is. And the forest is about to find out.…

Angelbreeze-

They say the Infinity Stones are the most powerful artifacts in the universe. They are wrong. The Stones are merely echoes-faint, glittering reverberations of a power so ancient it predates the Celestials, the Force, and the birth of stars themselves. That power has a name, three heads, and scales of living gold. She is Lómelindë-the Golden-Darkness-and she is coming home. When a creature of apocalyptic magnitude descends into the heart of Brooklyn, the world's mightiest heroes and the galaxy's most legendary Jedi find themselves united by a single, terrifying question: is she the end of everything, or the last hope of a universe that never knew it needed saving? From the scorched streets of New York to the bridge of a Venator-class Star Destroyer, gods, soldiers, and monsters collide in a war that will rewrite the stars. She never wanted a throne. She never wanted a war. But the universe has a way of forcing choices upon those who simply wanted to rest-and Lómelindë is about to learn that even a being who dwarfs Star Destroyers and makes gods look small cannot outrun the gravity of belonging.…

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She arrived at the doors of House Targaryen wearing a borrowed name and a flawless lie - Haros Bartossi, the sharp-eyed heir of a minor Pentoshi trading house, carrying forged seals and an introduction no one thought to question. Beneath the merchant lord's facade lurks something far older than Valyria itself: a Ghidorah, three minds fused into one terrifying intellect, a queen of a species that ruled the earth before the First Men carved their first weirwood. She is not here to conquer - she is here to embed, weaving herself into the fabric of the house like Valyrian steel through silk, invisible and patient and absolutely lethal to anyone who threatens what she has chosen to protect.Haros does not hand out loyalty like a lord doles out favor; you earn it, or you get nothing - and those who earn nothing get something far worse than indifference. To the cunning she offers counsel, to the suspicious she offers silence, but to the rare few who demonstrate genuine conviction she offers the kind of devotion only an apex predator can give. She moves through Targaryen politics like a blade through smoke, bending history with whispered words, impossible resources, and a quiet dominance that makes every dragon look up when she passes.And when the moment arrives, she will claim a dragon - not by blood, not by bond, but by a right that predates every Valyrian bloodline that ever lived. She will take that dragon and deliver it into the hands of someone whose name the maesters will argue about for centuries. The Targaryens will learn, too late, that they never tamed the greatest thing to walk among them - they simply never realized it had been sleeping in their own halls."They named their dragons after gods. She is one."…

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She is not of the Force. She is the reason the Force exists. The only daughter of Yahweh - the Creator of all things - she has lived her entire existence in the golden infinity of heaven, beloved by angels, adored by her father, suffocated by perfection. When she begs to walk among mortals and shape the tide of history, the Almighty does the one thing he has never done. He lets her go. Her fall to the desert world of Tatooine burns across the sky like a second sun, and in the slave quarters below, a nine-year-old boy with no father and more power in his blood than any Jedi alive looks up - and something ancient, desperate, and possessive awakens inside Anakin Skywalker.She is not the only one who feels the aftershock. The Jedi Council weeps without understanding why. A Sith Lord feels something that should not exist in this universe, and for the first time in decades, Darth Sidious is afraid. Queens, masters, warriors, and monsters - every soul that brushes against her radiant, untouchable presence is seized by the same consuming devotion, the same obsessive need to keep her, the same terrifying certainty that she was meant for them and them alone.She came to witness history. She came to understand why her father loves mortals so deeply. She did not expect history to become obsessed with her - or for a slave boy on a forgotten desert planet to look at a daughter of God and decide, with the quiet ferocity of a soul that has never been allowed to own anything, that he will never let her go.…

Angelbreeze-

THE PROPHETIES BEGIN - BOOK 2She doesn't belong in the forest. She doesn't belong among cats. She certainly doesn't belong at a Gathering-towering above every warrior, her white fur blazing under the full moon like a second Silverpelt come to earth.But Bluestar named her Lunafang. Gave her a place. Called her warrior.Now Lunafang carries a secret that could shatter ThunderClan: their deputy, Tigerclaw, murdered his predecessor to claim his rank. She knows it. Fireheart knows it. But Bluestar refuses to believe it-and with every passing day, Tigerclaw's grip on the Clan tightens like a claw around a throat.Worse still, StarClan is calling to her. Shadow cats gather in her dreams. A long-tailed stranger watches from the firelight. A prophecy she never asked for is unfolding around her, and it seems to have everything to do with the wolf who was never supposed to walk among cats.And then there are the toms. From every Clan, their eyes follow her-not with the fear she expects, but with something far more dangerous. A magnetic, forbidden pull that Lunafang cannot explain and cannot afford to feel. She is a predator. They are cats. The divide between them should be unbridgeable.But hunger has a way of making creatures forget the rules.…

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Three worlds. One predator. No ceiling.Tokyo Bay boils overnight. A fishing vessel is found peeled open like a can-not destroyed by cursed energy, not by any quirk ever recorded, but by proximity to something that reality itself couldn't categorize. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, arrives at the scene and his Six Eyes fail him for the first time in his existence. Three hundred kilometers away, All Might stares at a satellite image of a four-kilometer hole in the ocean that reads absolute zero. And in the deep waters of the Pacific, something ancient stirs-a king among kaiju, drawn toward Tokyo by a presence that makes his own radioactive fury feel like a candle held up to the sun.They are all about to learn the same lesson.She is not a curse. She is not a hero. She is not a monster.She is something the universe forgot to put a limit on-and she has just woken up.…

Angelbreeze-

Japan, 1947. The war is over. The empire is ashes. And beneath the black waters of the Pacific, something older than the war - older than the empire - older than memory itself - is waking up.She can walk among them now. Two legs, two arms, skin that burns hot enough to scorch grass. She can eat their food, wear their clothes, speak their language. She can stand on an airstrip on a nameless island and watch a young pilot stumble from his broken plane and pretend she is not what she is: a living apocalypse crammed into fifty kilograms of stolen flesh.But the ocean remembers. The tectonic plates groan her name. And soon - soon - the compression will fail, the human skin will burn away, and the last thing these broken, starving, post-war men will see is the sky disappearing behind a wall of irradiated scale and fury.…

Angelbreeze-

She is not what she appears to be. Ancient, powerful, and capable of wearing human skin the way others wear coats, she has built a palace at the edge of the known world and filled it with the people she chose to call family - eight young men who see her not for what she is, but for who she has been to them. protector, home, the warmth that waits at the end of every journey.But a promise she made on a distant island is about to arrive at her door in the shape of a grieving boy named Kenji Kon, one of six survivors from a place called Nublar. He carries with him a danger he cannot name, a sorrow he cannot yet speak, and the absolute certainty that her palace is the only place left where the people he loves will survive what is coming.She made a promise: look for the sun, and you will find me.The sun has found her. And whatever followed it is not far behind.…

Angelbreeze-

The sheep of Hardy's Pasture have lived their quiet, grazing lives for generations-content, unremarkable, and blissfully small. But when four parallel gouges appear carved into the shepherd's trailer like the world's largest fingers have dragged through tinfoil, the flock is forced to confront an impossible truth: something immeasurably vast has been walking among them.Told through the eyes of the world's most unlikely witnesses, The Scales Beneath is a story about scale-about what happens when the very small are brushed by the very large, when a creature of god-like proportions drifts through a landscape that doesn't even have a word for what she is. It is a story told in wool and grass and warm milk breath, in the ancient memory of a one-horned ram who lived through something he cannot name, and in the slow, earth-shaking footsteps of an apex predator who has never once looked down-because she has never needed to.Part pastoral fable. Part kaiju thriller. Entirely unlike anything you've ever read.You are not the main character. You are not even a character at all. You are the sky, the earthquake, the shadow that makes the birds stop singing-and the sheep have finally noticed.…