Onyx Wings Novels & Stories

I turned my gaze as he stripped off his shirt and pants. The sound of bones breaking filled the air. A loud thud was the only signal I needed to know I could look up. I stared at Ophir in awe. At night it was hard to see how truly magnificent he was. His wings could easily stretch across our training field. Two claws sat on the peaks of both wings. His scales were as black as the night sky. His black horns on top of his head pointed backwards more and stuck out the sides of his lower jaw. Spikes poked out of his chin, and some ran up each of his legs. The scales of his wings looked like feathers. He laid on the ground tucking his wings beside him. His black claws dug into the dark earth.

“Your wings are residual magic’s; imitating the rooster wings I conjured on my person during my captivity, in mockery of my genes as the men in long white coats would say, unlike mine it cannot simply be removed with a wave of hand because it has been imbued in you since birth, but still they are made entirely of hardened lightening, and can be temporarily dispersed like ozone matter if you concentrate enough.’’ On saying this, he proceeded in teaching them, the shock on their faces were comical as they gaped at each other, looking strangely different without their wings, it was like it was there but at the same time not there, despite the wings absent, Omotola could feel them stirring at he

Odin shouted out as he pointed behind me. I pulled away from Traian and walked over to the floor-length mirror. My eyes were jet black with gray swirling vortex instead of white, and it looked as if I had storm clouds circling my pupil. I turned to the side slightly and saw my new wings, they were stunning, not their usual white opaque sort of look, no, now they were a dark ash gray with a blue, green and purple sheen, like on a magpies wings. They were a lot larger than before and much more magnificent.

he winked. My fingertips brushed the onyx skin, gasping in delight at the texture. They were so smooth, almost like velvet, and when I pressed my hand against them, it was as if I was melting into a warm, stretchy blanket. Chaos grinned over his shoulder, watching me as I ran my fingers along the bony structure of the wings, “The look in your eyes is intoxicating.”

I had his arm pinned to his back while my wings beat at the air in big swings causing feathers and dust to cascade around us. He may be fast, but I was stronger, with wings. I pushed off of him, jumping as my wings beat downwards propelling me upward, and I perched on the railing that ran along the edge of the first floor platform. There I waited while he straightened his cloths. I hurt the wolfs pride, but what must be done is now done.

“She gets it.” Eryx inclined his head respectfully. “We’re your passengers and your pilots, apparently.” The engineer snorted. “Passengers? No. Anyone stepping on that craft is a mechanic by default.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “This way.” WING-01 rested like a sleeping predator at the far end of the hangar. Its body was sleek and narrow, made of layered silver-gold plating with faint luminous channels running down the sides. Folded wings extended from its spine, each feather panel lined with rune seams. Two fin-like structures ran along the underside, currently tucked against the hull.

Jason asks, A frown appears on his face before he answers sarcastically, “Is there any other meaning of wings? They are huge. So huge, that they touch the floor.” Closing my eyes, I picture my wings, just like Nyx taught me. Seconds later, I feel their weight behind. His surprised gasp fills the room, making me open my eyes. I stare at him and, with my voice trembling, I ask, "You mean wings like these?” His mouth hangs open as he nods. “Yes,” he whispers, his eyes still wide with shock. “They are exactly the same. The only difference is that hers are black.” Fucking hell. That’s the only thought that was on my mind as I registered his words.

Her wings emerge slowly from her back, unfolding with painful elegance behind her in massive arcs of silver and midnight blue, each feather threaded with magic that catches the dim light filtering through the trees like living starlight. They are breathtaking. Not delicate. Not fragile. Powerful. Ancient. Different than before. Beautiful in a way that almost doesn’t seem real. And then I see the scars. Thin silver lines cut through sections of the wings, old injuries that healed badly, damage that should never have touched something so extraordinary. My chest tightens instantly. Someone hurt her. Repeatedly. Nyxara notices where my attention lands and instinctively shifts, trying to pull the

Each limb had large crimson-red claws seemingly made of this metallic material as well. The body was also rather slim and seemed agile, but it was also covered by these powerful scales, and alongside that, there were another pair of limbs, right above the shoulders of the front limbs, enormous wings began to expand as Chaos got used to them. The wings expanded, showing off their semi-transparent membranes filled with bloody veins, which also had eye-shaped marks on them, glaring at the Orcs from above. His neck was long like that of a snake, covered by black and crimson-red scales, as his head was long and ended in a sharp horn that resembles the tip of a crimson-red spear.

I have never seen such beautiful wings in my entire life. His crimson-red wings are described as metallic with each feather sharp like a precision blade. Each feather/blade has the top part crimson with the hairs or fibres sticking out of the sides, while the end of the blade itself is black. I really envy him. Why does he have to have such beautiful wings? Why is mine not like his? I cried in my mind and again looked up at him. He was waiting for me to go up. So I spread my wings too and flew up to complete the rest of the fight.