Night Wing Novels & Stories

Elektra hugged Avyanna fiercely and sobbed into her hair. “ That was a terrible one”. “Elektra, I'm fine. Those demons will never mess with me again. They have tasted a few of my flames and I don't think coming back will be in their dictionary.” Time flew, and it was already 7. p.m. The girls began to do their make-up. Avyanna decided that tonight Midnight would shimmer like stars in the sky. She applied delicately mild makeup on her face. Avyanna decorated her eyelids with silver and glossed up her lips. It gave her an angelic look. Her gray eyes stood out and plump pink lips bubbled and shimmered.

I have also learned how they refer to each other. A person named Night is a twilight lyceum; this means protectors of the twilight and carries the virus to create other lyceums. Chanco means protectors of the night. The twilight is what they call the shadow realm. The shadow realm is the term given to the plane between day and night; it is a world within itself. The only way I can explain it is a dimension just outside of our reality.

I flip the lamp switch on and I glimpse at the alarm clock, “This can't be. What is the probability that this is also a coincidence?” It's 2:00 AM again. I woke up at exactly 2:00 AM the previous night after having a nightmare about the old lady, and today I woke up at the exact time as yesterday after having a nightmare about the same old.

BLUE eyes stared as starlight gleamed through the window. The night sky was like a painting as a dusty river of stars that shimmered with dark blues and pale pinks cut through the deep purple background. Hanna's soft snores bounced off the hut walls, the white noise a droning comfort. Faline rolled uncomfortably to her side. With a sleepy yawn, the Knight closed her hidden eyes and focused inward.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩 The Astraea Tower glowed like a silver needle against the charcoal sky of 3:00 AM. Usually, the building was a temple of silent efficiency, but tonight, every floor was ablaze with light.

The penthouse was quieter than usual on Night Eighteen. Rain had eased to a soft drizzle, leaving the city lights sharp and glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Kai lay sprawled on his stomach across the massive bed, naked and sated after their first round a slow, deep fuck against the glass where Damien had taken him from behind while they both watched the city below. The phoenix tattoo on his back gleamed with a faint sheen of sweat, fresh red marks blooming where Damien’s fingers and mouth had claimed him.

*Night* Logan jolted awake, heart pounding from a nightmare. In his dream, Jane was covered in blood, waving at him as she drifted farther and farther away into the darkness. He sat up, forehead damp with sweat, and ran a hand through his hair. The room felt suffocating. He got out of bed and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, the moon hung high, surrounded by a sea of stars. He lit a cigarette, its glow casting fleeting shadows across his tired face.

Chuckled! “ Well, Yes, Wife… I know who you are. You would remember too if you slowed down on the drinks like I said yesterday.” sexy responded. “Would you like to sit while I give you a recap that might jog your memory on our adventures the night before?” he asked. I sat down and kept my mouth shut before I further embarrassed myself. Ethan’s POV

I make a quick trip deeper into the woods and work out the kinks in my legs. When I come back, I steal a sip of Nia’s whiskey to warm my chest. She stirs in silence. I set the glass on the frosted ground and shove my hands up my jacket sleeves to warm my fingers. It’s a new moon, and the smattering of late November stars fade as we get closer to sunrise. Beyond the fire, black walnut trees loom high overhead, punctuating the stillness of the night with a jarring thump each time the wind knocks an overripe nut free from its moorings.

LATE NIGHT The garden glowed under the soft silver wash of moonlight. Crickets sang quietly in the bushes, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves overhead, rustling through the night like a whispered secret. A small round table sat tucked beneath the shady canopy of a creeping bougainvillea. Its lantern flickered faintly, casting a warm golden hue over Zara and Regan as they sat together—barefoot, relaxed, wrapped in the stillness of the night.