Nightwing Wings Of Fire Novels & Stories

I know what I must do, what we all must do. To my left, Akin stands tall, his obsidian wings sharp and sleek, the wind tugging at his tunic as his eyes sweep the battlefield like a soldier gauging his next strike. To my right, River’s wings are the color of deep, angry storms. They shift with energy, crackling faintly as his fists curl at his sides. The fire in him burns steady now, no longer a threat but a force I can trust.

Just as Rori thought she couldn't take anymore she saw the large figure in the distance,it was walking into the fire. She screamed again. “help me please,” the shadow reached out and grabbed her wrist, she looked down and the flames had disappeared from her arm but the thing holding her was hideous, it had long clawed fingers and was covered in what looked like blood red scales the color was so dark it was easily mistakable for charcoal black and she started to scream louder, the arm began to shake her as she screamed and thrashed against it.

~ Amara ~ "Amara, stay back! Get to the gates now!" Gideon’s voice was a ragged scream that barely cut through the roar of the fire. The orange light was blinding. It turned the dark garden into a nightmare of shifting, red shadows. I could feel the heat on my skin, stinging and dry like a desert wind. The West Wing of Moore Crest was no longer a building. It was a wall of pure fire. Thick, black smoke curled into the night sky like heavy snakes. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard it felt like it might actually break.

The scale of him forced the eye to adjust, to recalibrate what counted as a threat, what counted as a weapon. His wings unfurled behind him. Not in a single, theatrical sweep, but in a measured expansion that claimed the space as its own, the membranes stretching outward in layered arcs, catching the rising heat and bending it to his will. The edges burned in deep, smouldering crimson, not bright but dense, like coals banked beneath ancient ash, pulsing in time with the fire beneath his skin. Drifting ash caught along their span, then burned away in curling wisps, leaving no mark. These were not the wings of any bird. They were banners torn from an infernal altar and set ablaze. That fire wa

"You’re the one who whispered to me in the dark when the Council was carving into my bones. You’re the 'Extinction' they were so afraid of." The figure—the Red-Winged Dante—stepped into the light. It was a perfect, terrifying blend of us. It had Dante’s lethal, massive frame and his predator’s stance, but from its spine erupted a pair of wings that were an exact, burning replica of mine. They weren't made of "Void-Lead" or "Obsidian-Gold." They were made of Primal Fire, a deep, arterial red that seemed to drink the light from the room.

Mane had just employed one of those many moves: Exploding Wings. Mane’s mumble was the trigger for the huge fiery wings that grew on his back. The wings were several dozens of meters long and several meters wide. When they appeared on Mane’s back they rose high into the sky, and flapped rapidly. Yet their beating didn’t lift Mane up or take him into the sky. With the beating of those wings, the cry of a Phoenix filled the ears of all who were here, and several large flames descended upon the retreating goblins, burning them all to a crisp. The fire was stronger, completely eliminating the goblins in less than a second.

They flare on either side of me and when I stand, the points arch to encompass a wide scope of the ground, causing the others to back away in shock. Because I have wings. Wings of fire.

He could not help but wonder how easy it would have been had his wolf been not suppressed by the dark witch. Suddenly, from above, a swarm of Wraithwings descended, their ghostly forms merging into a tempest of shrieks that reverberated through the air like a banshee's wail. Flameheart pivoted, raising his blade to meet their assault, slicing through the air as they swooped down, their claws poised to tear him apart.

“Foolish mortal.” He thrust her across the dais with inhuman strength; she tumbled into a river of flame, but did not burn. Her infernal ward flared in response, silver wings of flame unfurling from her back. Azrath’s eyes widened. “You… bear my mark.” She rose, iron will igniting beneath her flesh. “Because I embraced you... and yet I remain myself.” He roared, plowing through molten pillars. “Then prove it!” They met in the chamber’s heart, Azrath’s shadow-smoke wings vs. Nyra’s silver-flame wings; horns vs. circlet; brimstone blade vs. moonsteel sword. Each strike split the air in a symphony of war.

His light grey wings came out as he took off into the air. Like that would stop her. He really was an idiot. Faye jumped up into the air as she released a powerful blast at him. It hit his front, so she threw another one which was aimed at his wings. An inhuman shriek filled the air as the Moon Fire ripped through his wings. Gravity yanked his body downwards, and it thumped against the ground with a disgusting crunching sound. Not sure what broke but did not really care either. She stalked forward and was pleased with the outcome as he tried to move backwards. But he was seriously injured.