Blessed Black Wings Novels & Stories

I turn my head around just to catch a glimpse of what’s making the trees fall one by one. But the second I turn around, I can’t avert my eyes. My body freezes in place. I’m bewildered at the sight above me. A man with huge, black wings is flying through trees as he picks up the men one after the other. He summons blades made of black smoke, and he directs them through the men. When he kills the first man, his lifeless body falls from the height with black blood oozing out of him. In a swift wave of his hands, a mist of black smoke moves, cutting off the heads of the other two.

His eyes never left the door. He waited. Watched. The entrance burst open. Riko came out first, sharp in black, jaw tight with anger. Behind him, Lena—Raven—stumbled after him, her wrist locked in his grip. Reyes stiffened. Riko didn’t look back. He yanked her along, nearly dragging her to a sleek black car idling at the curb. She nearly tripped, coat slipping from one shoulder. Reyes leaned forward, jaw clenched. His knuckles were white.

As expected, the name struck like thunder in the gloom. “What?” The voice was hushed, reverent and alarmed. “Is that even possible? No one knows where the Black Moon Flowers are except the Dark Wolves. How did she manage to get one? Or…” The shadow’s tone dropped to a whisper, heavy with awe and fear, “She is the prophecy. She is the soon-to-be founding Blessings!” I snapped my head toward them, voice sharp and biting. “Nonsense! You know how it works. Like a Queen Bee in a beehive. It’s forbidden to have two Queen bees.” I smirked, cold and cruel.

How are the candles still lit? Out of nowhere two people, or not people, since they have wings, one has black wings that look like they have spikes on the end which are red and the other has a white wing with a very shiny crown on her head, she is beating the devil out of that lad, I can tell you that much. Are those blackout curtains? It seemed so dark in here but when they flew in I saw a glimpse of light and I was definitely not in France.

But aside from all that, the most magnificent thing is the huge wings that spread behind him, filling the entire hall, and they’re not even at their fullest. The black bone that forms the structure shimmers like the darkest of nights, ribbing along the wing. The membrane is like a deep thick leather, with a velvety look. It is black but shimmers green, and the highest arch of the wing is rimmed with scales that only add beauty to the gorgeous wings before me. He pulls away from me, almost looking… defeated, and that terrifies me. I have never seen Agnarr look as destroyed as he does at this moment. There’s something in his eyes that looks… almost broken.

His beast was a majestic black, with a blue glowing marking that pulsed like a heartbeat, a sign of his incredible abilities. As his beast took control, Raphael felt a boundless wave of fierce exhilaration, his wings outstretched as he soared through the skies, the wind whipping past him in a wild caress. His wings pounded the air with a rhythmic intensity, every beat resonating deep within his soul. This was true freedom, the unbridled power he had been longing for, and it felt like his soul had taken flight, he soared with great ease as if he were born to do this.

I could feel the anger rising in her; with a frustrated scream, she exposed her glorious angelic wings, one bright white, tinged with shimmers of light, the other breath-taking ebony tainted with luscious obsidian tips. They were remarkable. In one strong swop of her razor-sharp wings, she cut away at the demonic hands that tore at her before she lifted from the ground and took off in the air following the sounds of the cries. Even in her dream, her wings were remarkable; watching as she flew toward the flames, a cunning grin crawled across my lips; at the centre of her wings, the black and white feathers mixed and entwined, a marble effect painted each feather. Showing that she was not as c

Trying to move whatever arm I could, I was able to bring it to my chest. Right below my neck, I stretched my fingers already covered in my blood, and managed to draw it. His calling card, his heavenly symbol that very few knew. It would connect with the soul inside me, and Michael would feel it. I had only tried it one other time, when it wasn't my death on the line. I prayed it worked this time as well. Within moments, I felt the presence of Heaven, he had come. I could hear Michael swear as he pushed a little energy in me to make my wings retract back in.

But such was the way of things. His veils were barely free of their scabbards when he heard the gurgling sound from behind him. An instant later, someone passed him. It was always unbecoming when a blessed stepped past a person with the true step. There was rarely ever a disturbance in the wind nor a cool passing breeze. For the unblessed, they rarely ever knew it, and if the blessed was skilled enough, the movement would have no effect on the surrounding. But for Valerik there was always a wrongness, and he felt it. He didn't see the person, but he felt them pass.

They each kissed my cheek, before moving away from me, ushering the rest of the group out of the room. I heard the door click shut, while I scanned over my reflection. My new ashen gray wings were stunning. I ran my hand over their beautifully soft feathers. It was strange to me; I was used to the opaque hunter's wings. I had seen solid feathered wings before, Kali had black ones, and Azael had them too. Well, I'm guessing he used to before they were burned to pieces in the fall from heaven.