Of All Things I Became A Crow นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Becoming. And this time, we don’t hold back. We burn.

Aliana's POV “What in the gods’ names are you doing here?” I jumped! Black filled my vision, and a cold breeze whipped at my face, the wind chilling my bones. The room was filled with a familiar crow, the sound sharp enough to cut stone. Sharp eyes of liquid gold and great black wings that glinted blue unfurled with a sound like tearing silk. Corvus! I let out a screech when his huge body perched on my shoulder. But I was surprised how light he felt – and how light and careful he was with his talons. Still, I didn’t dare to anger the bird that ate corrupt souls for a snack…

"In every command you've given, every alliance you forged. You built this army from nothing: survivors and refugees, enemies turned allies. You gave them something to believe in. Now let it fight for you." I gritted my teeth and clenched the sheets in my fists until my knuckles went white. The fabric tore under the pressure of my grip, but I barely noticed. I had fought through heartbreak that should have killed me, betrayal that had left me hollow and bitter, death itself reaching out with cold fingers to drag me down. I had risen from ashes like some mythical phoenix and worn a crown of thorns until it became a thing of beauty. I was not weak. I would not surrender now, not when everything

“We’ve got trouble.” “Get down!” Anthrose growls, grabbing the back of my head and pulling my face right into his damn lap as the roof of my baby is ripped off. Eyes widening, I stare at the bulge that is right there at eye level with me before snapping out of it and sitting up so that I can see the creature responsible for fucking up my truck. Flapping its massive wings in front of us is what looks like a large crow, but it has sharp teeth and glowing red eyes, but I don’t give a shit what it is because I intend to fuck it up.

He sat down and put his hands over his headphones. Damian stood up. He drew his gun. I drew mine. We walked into the circle. "Alpha Sinclair," The Crow said. His voice was smooth, melodic. It didn't sound like a villain's voice. It sounded like a priest's. "And the Mother. You have finally arrived." "Step away from the altar," Damian ordered, leveling his weapon at The Crow’s chest. "We are here for the cure. Not a fight." "There is no cure for what he is," The Crow said sadly. "Only a release." He gestured to the altar. It was carved with runnels for blood. "The boy is an Abomination, Damian. He is a breach in the natural order. The Prime blood was meant to die out for a reason. It is too v

The cawing of the wild animal pierced my ears until they bled and then in a split second, the room was filled with a dark presence. Cowering my head to the ground, I went in chase of the crow and held unto the ledge of my bed. The velocity of the winds swirling through my room skyrocketed but I fought against it. I wondered how fast it took a storm to build up as the winds swept through my hair until alas, I was able to close the windows and the crow dropped dead to the floor. My hands fell to my knees as I gasped, an attempt to catch my breath. What the hell just happened?

Dislocated. He trembled, scratched at her clothing. His cheekbone bulged like a leg under silk sheets. A thin stream of bile ran from his mouth, splattering her knees. From where his eye should have been there emerged a beak, black and strong. With a sickening tear, the head of a crow broke free of her father’s face. The bird squawked, its feathers matted. Her world imploded into color. Through the light she saw herself standing over a coffin, could see herself outrunning the tourist cart down the Astoria embankment because she thought she’d caught her mother among the faces and cameras, could see herself studying her dad’s new girlfriend with predictable spite.

he roars up loud enough to make his voice reach even the hidden ears of children between and under the tall people. The low branch of the tree is no longer behind the king's head. The glowing round sun is making the crown on his glitter and his light brown face appears lighter closer to white. "Long live king, Thomas" hails the crowd in the consortium. Sound of whistles, wooden drums, and small ball stones striking in hand, rise in the air to the clear and bright sky. King steps down from the stone ring. The round glowing sun behind his head doesn't leave his company.

She already assumed that a pot bellied man was probably going to show up as the owner of the Academy and bore them for several more hours explaining the history of the Academy that each of the staff has already taken hours to read out. She suddenly heard loud gasps arousing from the crowd, she ignored and kept her gaze glued to the floor. The gasps suddenly turned to light screams. "Kim, look up, he's here," Claire nudged her. "Look Claire, I have no business with... Her sentence abruptly hooked up on her throat as her eyes ran into the figure standing at the podium. "Mr grumpy?" She croaked out shakily.