MARKED VALKYRIE ACADEMY DRAGON ALLIANCE KATRINA COPE pdf download

Book: MARKED

VALKYRIE ACADEMY DRAGON ALLIANCE

Author: KATRINA COPE

(✍️ This article is collected from this book 📚 (All Credit To Go Real Hero The Author of this book 📖) 🙏 Please buy this book hardcopy from anyway.)

🔍In This Book_______________________

Kara thought that her lack of wings was a problem in the world of Valkyries–until she stumbled across a dragon's nest. She soon learned that wherever you found a dragon’s nest, a mother dragon was always nearby. No matter how much combat training she had, she could still become lunch.

🧾Front Page Of This Book_______________

CHAPTER ONE

My feet collide with something hard, and I feel myself falling. A thousand
thoughts of how I ended up in this predicament run through my mind
before my body slams onto the hard floor. A grunt of pain escapes my mouth as
my arms flail, and my books scatter in front of me. Hurried footsteps pass as
people scramble to leave the hall, and sniggers bounce off the hard academy
walls, assaulting my ears. Before I gather the strength to turn around and look
up, I know what happened.
taints the voice.
I roll over, push my long dark hair away from my face, and look up. Rota
towers above me, framed by her beautiful pure-white wings.
“My name is Kara, not Wingless.” My words are snappy as I glare at my
archenemy, proven over the last few months from my first day at Valkyrie
Academy.
She stands with her hands on her tiny hips, which are barely concealed in
skintight blue leather pants. Her lustrous blond hair falls in waves down to her
shoulders, tumbling over her unzipped tan leather jacket, which exposes her
white, low-cut V-neck T-shirt. She looks amazing for her sixteen years of age,
and I’m sure she knows it. Her blue eyes shoot daggers through her glare.
When she crosses her arms across her chest, her two winged companions,

“Oh, Vanir! Wingless, did you trip on your clumsy feet again?” Disdain

Mist and Prima, follow suit. The three of them standing together almost look like

they were cut from the same mold and had decided to dress in the same clothes.

In reality, it was the uniform of the winged warriors. Small beads of sweat

pooled on their shirts right under their heart. It looked as though they had just

come from combat training.

Jealousy roars through me as I gaze at those beautiful white wings. I am only

too aware of my lack of wings protruding from my shoulder blades. So many

days, I curse the day I was born without wings. My fifteen years of life would

have been entirely different if I were born with wings.

Rota glances over my scattered books, and something catches her eye. I

cringe. Instantly, I know what it is. I scramble to my knees and dive for my

books, trying desperately to gather them quickly together. A click of a heel

sounds near my ear, and I grimace. I’m too late.

“What do we have here?” Rota stoops down and picks up the book lying just

out of my reach. “The Tale of How Brynhildr Got Her Wings.” Malice colors her

voice, and sniggers sound behind me. Some more winged Valkyries from the

academy have gathered around.

I force my eyes to rise, traveling up her body and connecting with her eyes,

only to be met by stones. She turns the pages, and I watch her hard face as she

scans the contents.

After a few moments of only the rustling of pages slicing through the silence

as she flicks through the book, her piercing eyes focus on me. “Oh, poor

Wingless.” Her voice holds no sympathy. “You know this is just a tale, don’t

you? A myth and make-believe story.” I don’t know how, but her face turns

colder. “This is not possible. No matter how much you read the story, you will

never grow wings. You will never be as magnificent as I or my friends.” Her

gaze flicks to her sneering companions. “You will always be a scavenger on the

ground as we fly the skies, swooping down and picking out the greatest warriors,

and sending them to Valhalla. You will remain as our slaves and our servants,

scrounging through the corpses that we have left behind and cleaning up behind

us. You will never be known for the glory of building the army for Ragnarok.”

Her words cut deep, yet I pull from deep within and plaster on a brave face. I

scramble to my feet, scooping up my books before yanking the book out of her

grasp and hugging it to my chest.

Her face is a picture of beauty distorted by a thin-mouthed smile that edges

toward a sneer. “Not all Valkyries can be born from the pure blood of the direct

line of Odin’s creation. And because of this, you will never have wings.” Her

sneer creeps higher. “Now, why don’t you run along and clean out the dragon

stables.” She flicks her hands at me in a dismissive gesture.

Clasping my arms tighter around my books, I use the rest of my willpower to

retain my tears that are creeping closer to the edge of my eyes. I must not show

her how much she has upset me, or she will never stop.

Holding my back straight and my head high, I turn and walk down the pale-

tiled hallway and out the door. It’s challenging, yet somehow, I pull it off. Her

words cut deep. I know they are true, but I always hold on to hope that I can be

part of the elite squad of Valkyries. I long to be more than a bottom cleaner and a

dragon-stall cleaner.

When I know that I have left her sight, I run to my dormitory. I throw my

books down on the bed and run out the door to the gates of the academy. Tears

blur my vision when I pass through its gate. Though I know I shouldn’t let her

get to me like this, I can’t help it. I desperately want to be so much more than

this.

A winged Valkyrie from one of the patrol groups flies ahead, swooping low

over me, then rises high again, heading for the sky as though I were insignificant

and not worth the time. She flaps her wings, moving higher, toward the sun. I

start to run, and I bolt as far away as I can. Though her wings are glorious and

magnificent, I don’t want to see them. 

I need to get away and clear my head.

I run until I can no longer breathe, and my surroundings evolve to become

drier and more desolate. Trying to impress the Valkyrie leaders and get their

attention, I have been training hard so they will focus on me and give me

something better than what the wingless Valkyries must do. Many of my friends

have mocked me for my hope, but I can’t give up. It is harder for me to face the

future of being a bottom dweller and being a wingless Valkyrie than for me to

give up hope.

I expel my final breath, halt my running and slump over, gasping. Blocking

out all sounds except the thrumming in my ears, my heart thumps profusely, and

my lungs burn. My vision is blurred as I stare at the dry, hard ground. It takes

several minutes before the thumping subsides in my ears, and I hear a noise. I

glance up. Before me is a hideous flying beast.