3 Winged Angel Novels & Stories

Max and Kendra were quick to defend Alina, always coming to her rescue but I had a feeling she didn't really need it. As the weeks past, I began training myself again My parents helped where they could. For the first time ever I had seen both my parents in angelic form. My mother was beautiful, a yellow glow shining of her wings. They were pure white but shimmered as they caught the rays of the sun. My mother had to wear a dress with a deep back so she could have her wings out. Every female angel had to wear something similar to that to accommodate their wings because they obviously couldn't fly half-naked. Her wings were slightly bigger than her, the ends touching the ground.

“This is a club, you pussies! Just because the boss beat someone’s ass doesn’t mean the bar stopped serving drinks! Leave his mate be and get back to the fucking party! It’s Very Immortal Party night!” “What does she mean, getting rid of their wings?” I asked as we walked through the door to the hallway. “Judging by their appearance, neither of them are fully set into their immortality, which means they won’t be able to use their wings for a very long time, if ever again,” he told me in a cold voice that left me wondering if I knew him at all. Angelica…

Eventually, I was unable to hold the egg in my hand due to its growing size. The egg was engulfed in a ring of black flames as if the fire were its covering. Soon, two of the three epic cores had disappeared. As it increased in size, the egg kept moving and expanding. "Gulp, this..." The egg was already the same height as me! "What in the world is this?" The Deathwing Angel is a stunning angel with wings on her back, is she not? To watch over me, an angel sent by God? Looking at the egg, I was suspicious that some strange monster called Deathwing Angel would hatch.

With his forehead still touching the wall, he turned cautiously, tilting it to reveal what he'd been so desperately trying to conceal from me. Ethan's eyes were pools of obsidian black. All the white had been eradicated. The blue iris was gone. The only colour that remained was the pupil that now burned an iridescent orange fire, that could have been mistaken for rage if it wasn't for the overwhelming sense of sadness that consumed his expression. Underneath his eyes, that same inky-stain that plagued his hands, was stretching down over his cheekbones, the tendrils snaking out from the edge like feathery veins under his skin. Angel wings , I thought. Like angel wings across his face .

He won’t let him kill his mate. Sabrina and the others tried to help Azrael, but they all flew away when Lucian released dark magic to attack them all in one swift movement. Only Azrael didn’t fly away because he used his angel power to dodge Lucian’s attack. He howled and cried out of pain on his back when suddenly something grew on his back. He roared and a pair of white wings appeared on his back. It’s his angel wings. His eyes glowed with flecks of gold and his aura changed. He roared and attacked Lucian again.

“The Almighty won’t be happy to hear about this.” Jasmine shuddered out of fear. Of course, it would be just her luck she pissed off God of all things. The Angel’s presence was very intimidating and now life-changing as she knew that God was real and dark Angels carried out souls to heaven. This Angel was sizing her up and down and one of his wings caressed her arm feeling the feathery embrace and feeling scared all at once.

I am the room. I catch flashes of what I look like now through some of the many eyes that make up my new form: Four enormous, interconnected wheels. Four massive wings. Every surface covered in unblinking, glowing eyes—each one watching, judging, balancing. I'm not an archangel. The angels lied. And somehow, that’s allowed. Because it was "God’s will." No. I’m not an archangel. I’m a Throne. There are three celestial orders: The Lowest (angels and archangels)

The broken forms of vampires, werewolves, and humans alike lying in crumpled heaps. Yet amidst the carnage, three lone figures continued to battle with the fury of avenging angels against the seemingly endless demonic horde. Enzo's true demonic form hovered in the air, supported by massive black wings that spanned the width of the grand foyer. He slammed one thrashing beast to the ground with a wild roar. The ground cracked beneath the impact. Seven’s own gigantic wings were also unfurled to their full, awe-inspiring breadth as he battled with another creature.

It lets out a screech, so loud, that the humans scream, running away from it. This is the one chance we have; I point at the target, and my comrades understand, charging at it with everything and everyone they have. The angel is wounded though, and flapping on five wings instead of six, as it tries to make itself look scary. But it's the fact that I got it, and it's screaming in pain that gives the others confidence to take it down. They move forward, screeches, and angry cries filling up the sky. I fly upwards, Loss sticking close. It's strange that we are not fighting each other, and instead helping one another.

How can I look at that angelic face and not imagine our unborn babies She gives me much more than dreams. She makes them come alive without even trying. She just needs to see me for who I am and also learn to accept and love me like she should. No man will love and appreciate her like I would. She just needed to see it. She just have to see it. I was pulled out from my thought by her raised voice. She seem pissed! "And why not?" I can only imagine both her hands resting against her waist at this point. "Well_because he has that look in his eyes whenever he smiles at you and trust me, I feel like strangling him each time he flashes it at you like a lunatic"