Beneath The Wings Novels & Stories

A shriek came out of her mouth which made Anna look behind to find Aura falling down. "Aura!" Anna panicked and screamed taking her name and jumped off without thinking of the consequence. Suddenly she felt a burning sensation on her back and soon two jet-black wings came out of her back. Each feather has the top part jet black with the hairs or fibers sticking out of the sides, while the end of the edge itself is blood red. Flipping the wings in the air she flies down and catches Aura before she falls into the river of fire.

Light exploded from my body, blinding white and pure gold mixing together in waves of power that made the air itself sing. Mom's hand found mine as wings of light spread from my shoulders, filling the tiny cell with their radiance. Time to fly. The wings weren't like anything I'd seen before. Not feathered like traditional angel wings. Not bat-like, like demon wings. These were pure energy, translucent and opalescent, shifting between gold and white with every pulse of power. “Impossible,” Azrael's voice came through the door again. “The dampening fields…” My power answered him, shattering every suppression device built into the walls. Pieces of tech rained down around us as the wings grew s

Without a word, he led me through his house, past the familiar spaces, until we reached a staircase descending into the dimly lit basement. The atmosphere shifted as we stepped down; the air felt heavier, charged with anticipation. The basement was a private retreat, carefully curated for his role-play scenarios. The walls were adorned with subtle décor—dark tones, leather accents, and dim lighting that cast a soft glow. A sense of vulnerability washed over me as I realised this space was designed to amplify his dominance and my submission. Chris stopped in the middle of the room, turning to face me with a look that was both assessing and expectant.

As Drew pulls me closer and kisses me softly under the faint shimmer of lights, I can’t help but think… How could a man so sweet have been hiding beneath the surface all this time? THE END

When I reached the cliffs, I found them sleeping in strange formations—wolves twisted into unnatural shapes, curled beside carved bone totems and blood-lit candles. A few were muttering in their sleep. One said Elena’s name. Another said mine. I crept toward the largest tent, heart pounding, senses crackling with warning. Inside, I saw Malric. Alone. His back to me, standing before a small altar where seven blades floated in the air, each dripping crimson despite no hand touching them. He was chanting. I slipped inside quietly, keeping to the shadows. Then he spoke. “Come in, Silas. No need for games.”

I felt bothered and uneasy, I did not like the way I felt, not in the slightest. “It’s the Peterson Grand Hotel…” Graham began, I sat upright my ears were perked. “W-what is wrong with the hotel?” I asked. For the love of all things good, why did my voice even sound like that? “The entire West wing is on fire” “God damn it!” I don’t even know what was making me agitated the most. Whether it was the fact that my investment was currently burning or the fact that I knew that Kennedie would be there.

he said. “Wings,” I confirmed. “She absolutely has wings in her repertoire now.” “Technically they were a manifestation of—” “Wings,” I said firmly. “My best friend grew wings in a battle. I’m calling them wings.” Marcus made a sound that was probably not supposed to be a laugh and was. Kael’s hand rested on the door. The almost-smile stayed. “She’s strong,” he said. “Yes,” I said. “She is.” KAEL’S POV

Then, I took out an A3 paper from the briefcase and spread it across the table. It was a curved flight path, overlapping on the city map. "This is the flight path of the Cessna with the registration number B-10YZ between 2:00 pm and 4:00 pm on the same day. This aircraft…" I stared at him. "…is owned by Zach Airways." A flicker of tension crossed Zachary's face. Under the light, his face turned as pale as a sheet as he swallowed hard. Mike fixed his eyes on the two documents for a long time before he gradually raised his head. "Mr. Zachary, this weather report…"

The walls absorbed my whispers—the ache of abandonment, the yearning for permanence. Years of scrimping and saving had led me to the day I could have finally claimed my little blue beetle. She sat outside the record store, her faded paint a testament to resilience. Not sleek or glamorous, but she wore her scars with pride. Running on silent prayers and sheer determination, she should have retired to the junkyard long ago. Yet here she was, mine—a survivor like me.

Do it, I whispered. With pleasure, Vane said. I turned and ran. I crashed through the glass. The wind shattered the silence. The world turned upside down. I fell toward the churning black waves of the North Sea. Now, Julian commanded. Evolve. I didn't understand. But my body did. The skin on my back split. Pain—searing, white-hot pain. Something wet and membranous unfolded from my shoulder blades. Wings. Not feather wings. Wings of skin and bone, like a bat or a dragon.