Novel Flight Novels & Stories

[Carnelia] The flight North was a lot longer than any of us expected. I know how to fly, barely, thanks to Ona being such an amazing big sister and mentor, but that doesn’t mean I have the stamina to fly any type of great distance. My back is sore only a couple of hours into our flight, and by the time we land for lunch, I am barely able to move. This means Primus ends up having to carry me, which we only manage by having him in full dragon form, while he carries me as a human.

Forbidden 24 I take my window seat in the back of the plane. Waiting for other passes to board the plane I turn on my aeroplane mood and open the new novel I started reading the novel I have always wanted to read but my whole life event has not allowed me to even start the first page. When I checked online I was advised to see a therapist but I am not interested in talking to someone I do not even know.

But my solitude was short-lived as Gabriel entered the plane and took a seat beside me. As the plane took off, a sense of unease accompanied my discomfort. This was my first time on a flight, and the unfamiliar sensation of ascending into the sky added to my anxiety. Suddenly, Gabriel's actions caught me off guard—he rolled me from my seat and seated me on his lap. Instinctively, I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself, preventing a fall onto the cabin floor. His arm wound around my waist, holding me firmly in place.

from behind me. The sky hit my face. The air smelled of rain and industrial fumes. My eyes stung, but my wings were excited to finally be released from the heavy blankets of my bed, and were all the more energetic for it. I rose higher and higher, my wings flapping in a panic-borne frenzy, and to my surprise I no longer had any fear of falling. For a moment, my shame and terror were forgotten in the euphoria of flight. I turned and twisted my body, twirling and barreling gracefully through the air. The world passed beneath me like a stream: rooftops and chimneys and steeples and spires! I soared above the docklands, the ocean, the Thames and the Necropolis, amazed at my own speed. I passed o

On the flight home, the plane starts shaking violently. Certain I'm about to die, I call my husband, Rhys Callahan, to say my last words. He hangs up on me, and his auto-reply flashes on the screen. "Driving. On my way to pick up Daphne." I've taken 86 flights in our five years of marriage. Every time I'm about to land, I ask him to come get me, and every time, the answer is the same. "Daphne's getting in too. I have to pick her up." He picks up Daphne Langston all 86 times. The lowest point comes during a rainstorm. I drag my suitcase through the downpour outside the terminal for two hours, unable to get a ride. When I call him, Daphne's voice comes through, laughing. "Oh, Rhys is h

From there, it surveyed the forest below, as if keeping a watchful eye over everything. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning lit up the atmosphere, and before I knew it, the old tree had caught fire. Flames quickly consumed the tree, burning the cardinal with it. For a moment, I thought it was all over, but the bird flapped its wings with all its might, defying gravity, and rising up into the air once again. As the fire scorched its feathers, they grew back stronger and brighter than before. The fire disappeared as quickly as it started, and the cardinal took to the sky once more, leaving a trail of blackened smoke behind it.

There’s a tension in the air, something I can’t quite explain, something thick and unspoken, almost electric. Today, I’m on a private flight from New York to Los Angeles. The sort of flight that only a select few can afford. I’ve flown on private jets before, but something about this one feels... different. Maybe it’s the weight of anticipation. Or maybe it’s the passenger I’ve been assigned to. Adrian Blackwell.

She just turned her palm over and laced her fingers through mine, her grip warm and sure, like a lifeline handed over without question. I hadn’t said it aloud—not before the flight, not during boarding—but this was my first time flying in almost a decade. And I hated it. Not the flying itself, maybe. But not being in control. The sky didn’t care about nerves or old fears. It held you there, weightless and vulnerable, thousands of feet above anything solid. Makayla’s fingers slid between mine, strong and steady. She turned slightly in her seat, angling her body toward me as if to shield me from something she couldn’t see but instinctively knew was there.

Gen answered. I turned around and my eyes widened. "Can you fly?" I asked her as if I couldn't believe it. "Of course." It's still an answer. "Fuck! I didn't know you were a freaking bird!" I'm still here. "Sira! I don't have wings! What do you think of me, a bird? Tss, we can fly because of the air. But Cayden and Lucas can fly too, using their abilities." This is the answer.

Gen answered. I turned around and my eyes widened. "Can you fly?" I asked her as if I couldn't believe it. "Of course." It's still an answer. "Fuck! I didn't know you were a freaking bird!" I'm still here. "Sira! I don't have wings! What do you think of me, a bird? Tss, we can fly because of the air. But Cayden and Lucas can fly too, using their abilities." This is the answer.