Clay Wings Of Fire Novels & Stories

Power floods my veins, white-hot and ancient and I move. One moment I am standing before her, the next, I am between the fire and my child. The flames slam into my back, silver, black and screaming, and I scream with them, pain tearing through me like razors. But I do not fall, I absorb it. I burn and something inside me breaks open, not shatters, not collapses, awakens. Fire blooms from my spine, radiant and blinding, wings of light and embers unfurling behind me. The pain transforms into clarity, into purpose.

“Bag it. Mark the location. Get soil samples underneath too—I want everything from that spot.” A younger tech glanced over. “You think someone was on it when the fire started?” Reyes didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the ground—burned wood, coils, mud. Not a grave. Not quite. But close enough. He turned away, rain misting his jacket. “Make sure the lab rushes this,” he muttered. “I need something to hold onto.” … That night. Reyes stepped into the club with damp shoulders and sharp eyes. He didn’t look around—he didn’t need to. He went straight to the far corner table. His usual now. Dark. Out of the spotlight. Half-shrouded by a broken overhead bulb no one ever fixed.

Claws crept out of his fingers while his face became darkened as he levitated. "I see you now got my wings too, now, let me show you mine!" Rio replied while his eyes had a combination of red and blue, a weird fire burned round his back while his clothes burned off and dropped on the ground as Red-Blue wings retracted out from his back and flapped fiercely, a combination of Rio's wings and Sathanas wings while they flapped fiercely. Claws also crept out of his fingers while his hair caught off in flames, a tattoo on his neck as both brothers stared at each others, both levitating on the air.

Their hearts shattered at the sight of the bright, angry burns on her hands. "We have a maid to handle the cooking! You've always been hopeless with fire. What were you thinking, messing with the stove?" Jillian hung her head. She stayed quiet for a long moment before finally glancing up at me. "Wanda texted me last night and demanded I cook for her. I didn't want to make her mad, so I couldn't refuse. I woke up early this morning to prepare everything. I guess I'm just hopelessly clumsy." My heart sank. Before I could even explain, Dad charged over and hit me square across the face.

Eliza relaxes her control a little and Callie grins, “Thank you, Darlin’. I got some frustrations to work through, and it’ll help you understand what’s possible.” Eliza hums, ‘Have at it, Girl. I got your back.’ Callie laughs and half-shifts her wings out, then lets the flames out along them, flying at the next target, flapping her wings at the metal target, melting it as she passes, then sweeps around to the next one. Merlin is replacing the targets as they disappear, and Callie’s really letting loose. Twisting as she flies, clawing at one target, then breathing fire at another before sending two more fireballs at the last remaining targets, headshots.

“The wolves. The pack. Him.” I swallowed hard. “Someone has to.” Her eyes softened, almost mournful. “That’s why you’ll drown for them.” The water reached my knees, warm and bright. My mark began to burn, the silver flaring through my skin like molten light. “I’m not drowning,” I said. Clara smiled again. “You always say that before you do.” The light around her shifted, turning crimson. The water surged between us. I staggered back as her reflection stretched, twisting into shapes too large, too ancient wings, claws, teeth, a goddess made of tide and fury.

Shrill, loud and filled with power and authority that just made you want to submit. A massive shape unfurled within the light. Wings. Burning. Feathered with flame. Eyes like molten suns, no, Gold, molten gold would work better. A Phoenix. It emerged from that fire and it was watching me.

In a world where everyone chased immortality like it was the only answer, she learned something quieter—and way more dangerous. Turns out the only thing worth trying to reach… was the heart she’d left burning in her wake. ............................................................................. On the morning the Wen Clan’s eastern wing burned, Wen Lihua, sixteen, lay trapped under a fallen pine beam. Her mourning robes—bright white, now streaked with ash and blood. She still had her hand out, reaching for her mother’s jade tablet. No one bothered to check if she was breathing.

I hurried ahead as the music played through my earphones. I thought I could get away from this mess, but Diana Fowler suddenly broke away from the two thugs. She gazed at me with eyes full of tears, clutching my arm so hard she left two bloody scratches. "Help me, Levi!" I instinctively shook off her hand, acting as though I had encountered something terrifying.

I can see the faint outline of what looks like wings spread behind her. Wings of fire that seem to take the shape of a heart… A piercing scream rips through the air as her power increases tenfold and surges into the sky, emanating in waves around her. I see the swirls of the flames behind her move before I see a tiny part of her left wing snap and shrivel into embers of ash. It’s too blinding to look at, and I’m forced to avert my gaze.