Armor Wing Novels & Stories

Heat surges through my body, and for the first time, I’m aware of the crown floating above my head with colored spires glowing brightly. “Do you like our force field?” I pull the shield from my back. The action causes thin quills to grow from the harness and weave themselves around my body until they form a short protective dress made from the lightweight metal feathers of Hedone’s Stymphalian birds. Spaulders made of the Colchian dragon spread over my shoulders. As the body armor tightens to fit me, I roll my shoulders, grab the sword out of the compass rose, and take a defensive stance.

Why now when the Elites don't exist? "Oh shit, we need to stop the Orcs." I stood up immediately. "But I need armor and swords." "Don't worry, I will be able to handle that." Angel Grace said and she gestured her hand to the era suddenly a light merged in my body and now things started to form in my body then suddenly, I was already wearing golden armor. I have a head gear protecting my head and I have these golden boots as well. There were also two swords at my side and I unsheathed them both at the same time.

With a shrug I placed the empty box back on the shelf and went back to my bed. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ The breath behind my ear was very warm, almost hot .. and I was panting as I felt a strong arm circle my waist from behind... pushing me back till my back met a chest . What..... "Hello dear mate....I've waited a lifetime for your return" The Man behind me whispered in my ears and licked my ear lobe.... That voice....so deep and did things to my insides that I'm embarrassed to admit.

Eya inspects her handy work making me smile at how proud she is. “It’s beautiful, you two did amazing work together,” I comment, grabbing the black leather pauldrons which are embossed to match the rest of her armor. The pauldrons are layered, almost like the scales of a dragon, working down covering Raven’s upper arms. I smile thinking of how Raven will look like a beautiful strong warrior queen in the stunning armor our vaari and her stepdaughter made for her.

• Tank – Loyal only to Riko; takes pleasure in putting people “in their place.” • Knox – Rough with clients and cruel to the girls. • Red – The youngest; unpredictable, sometimes laughs at others’ pain. • All of them guard the entrances, handle unruly clients, and ensure no girl tries to run. They see everything and report anything. Built like walls—tall, broad-shouldered, with shaved heads or tight fades. Dressed in black shirts, cargo pants, and combat boots. Arms crossed at all times—unless dragging someone out or blocking a door.

The forest loomed ahead, its dark silhouettes blurred by the blizzard. At my sides, the pack moved in perfect formation. GrayCrest wolves formed the vanguard, their steps steady and deliberate. To our left and right, allied forces spread out, forming a crescent that stretched into the treeline. Despite the storm, every movement was precise, every warrior holding their position with discipline.

Armbands painted with a jagged, white wolf's head. The Silent Howl. They opened fire. Bang-bang-bang. Bullets—Barzil-tipped and lethal—sparked against the walls. Concrete chips flew like shrapnel. "Cover!" I grabbed Neoma by the back of her nanoweave suit and threw her behind a fallen pillar. "Stay down!" I stepped into the line of fire. I couldn't shift. The silver gas dampened my gravity field, making the air feel thin and weak. But I was still the Iron Warden.

Sound the alert to every ally we have. Lyra moved like lightning. The pack sirens howled to life. Wolves shifted and sprinted. I felt the old, narrow focus wash over me—hunt, protect, survive. As a technologist, I’d put a lot of myself into the pack’s defense. My ultimate failsafe was ugly and beautiful: two mechanical wolf armors, engineered to swallow bullets, deflect heat, and purge wolfsbane gas. They can camouflage, self-regenerate when damaged, and depend on a proprietary interface—skin contact, blood pins—so only my twin and I can use them. The suits are light, lethal, and designed to make a single soldier into an entire battalion.

The other curved backward in a brutal sweep, thicker than Apollo’s and ridged along its length, as though designed less for ceremony and more for impact. His wings were folded tight behind him, but even restrained, they carried weight. They were not the flexible, membranous stretch of Apollo’s; they were denser, layered in plates edged with serrated bone. Each ridge caught the firelight and fractured it, casting sharp shadows across the stone. In battle, those wings would not glide. They would cleave.

Then one of the guests frowned. "Wait a second..." His eyes narrowed at Dakota's outfit. "That gear looks familiar." Another guest inhaled sharply. "Oh my God... That's military-grade tactical armor. I saw it in a defense journal before." "It's custom equipment used by top-tier special operations units. You can't buy that legally." Dakota remained silent. What they didn't know was that her suit wasn't standard military equipment. It had been custom-built exclusively for the War God of Vanguard. The armor was resistant to bullets, blades, and extreme heat, and it was worth more than most luxury sports cars.