Queen Glacier Wings Of Fire Novels & Stories

A pair of eagle-like wings also grew from his back. Blaze, the daughter of Nyx—the female personification of night—and Oreas—the purple-winged God of the north wind and God of winter, chilling the air with his icy breath, had the same skills as her father to freeze a certain creature with her cold breath. The reason why she had an unexplainable anger towards Jack is that their birth parent's powers are in contrast. Jack, the son of Apollo—the God of the sun—and Hestia—the Goddess of Hearth or fireside, has the ability to use flame magic, and his spear could also burn anything that touches it. Blaze now wears armor that is freezing cold. Her armor is now made with ice; her hair remains white

Of course, she is a hybrid; she has the power of both her parents. We fly closer to the palace and hover with every powerful flap of our wings. More fire is directed at the palace. More pikes and large boulders are thrown at us. We fly higher out of range. We pick up speed and freefall backwards, our wings wrapped around us as we torpedo towards the palace. The wind and smoke twirling around us as we open our wings again, pushing more flames out as parts of the palace crumble and explode under the intensity of the heat.

I make my way weaving between empty cabins and stopping in the clear center. My mate stands in burnt clothes that just barely cover her body. Her veins glow red as I watch the fire retract back into her. Silas is behind her ice overtakes the flames putting them out. I see her skin begin to glow and her eyes are golden. Two giant white wings burst from her back. Flames overtake them and she looks to the sky. Every muscle in her body is flexed and she screams the pain finally hits me and I gasp for air. I shift back on my hands and knees gasping for air.

She gave the queen more and the woman collapsed to her knees. “Stop! You’re killing me.” She gritted out and Freya smiled. “Precisely. It is more mercy than you showed me when you tried to break my mind.” The queen screamed as her skin started to melt. Her arms started to slough, fall. Her forehead started to drift towards her eyes. Suddenly great wings clapped in the sky, surprising Freya. She reared back but too late, the dragon that the queen rode when they first saw her emerged in the sky and it opened its mouth wide.

The suit I wore as the Technician was made similarly only on a much smaller scale. "Why does this even exist?!" My brain is buzzing. "Are there any more of these floating around?" "To be honest, I don't know." She admits. "My father was a sneaky bastard. A paranoid sneaky bastard." She moves her arm and in front of the giant window, a large taloned arm holding a very large trident points downward at the Luxandra fleet below. "BURN!!!" she demands as lightning streaks from the trident, setting the Queen's forces aflame.

But this time, he walked away like he was afraid I’d burn him. Maybe he was right. Maybe I already had. The fire mark on my palm still pulsed, no longer painful, but insistent. Like it wanted me to understand. Like it carried a memory that hadn’t yet unfolded. I held it to my chest and closed my eyes. And I saw her. Not clearly. Not fully. But… her. The Flame Queen. Kaelith. She stood atop a broken pyre, her hair a river of white-gold flame, her body wrapped in silks that bled into smoke. And her face—gods, her face—was both terrifying and tender, like she had worn sorrow as a crown for far too long.

Patricia collapsed to her knees, hands clamped to her skull, keening through clenched teeth. But Gloria did not falter. Her veil slipped from her head, falling to the ground. Her face was bare, luminous with hunger and devotion. The air burned her lungs, seared her eyes, but she inhaled it like perfume, let it sting her tongue like wine. And then — he was there. Not fully. Not yet. But his outline formed from smoke and flame, a vast shadow taking shape. Wings curled like mountains folded against themselves, his frame cloaked in fire. The sheer weight of him bent the chamber, pressing the air thin.

I hear a dry chuckle from Katherine, and I glance up to find her shaking her head. "Jane. The ice coven is untouchable in battle. Your skin burns to the touch, you make weapons with your mind, and can shield yourself from enemies with crafted shields from ice." She sounds disappointed in me as she says it, and I can't help but lower my eyes to my hands. The silence in the dimly lit kitchen seems to eat away at both of us before she reaches across the table with her hands. Hesitation runs through me, but I bring my hands forward on the table so she can take them under hers.

"Wha…what do you want?" I held his gaze a little longer than a second before I looked away. The sound of chickens rang in my ears. He didn’t speak, which prompted me to look up. Goosebumps covered my skin in its entirety. He had those lazy blue eyes zoned in on me, and my heart raced. It was like he could see through my soul, like he could read the walls of my heart, digging up secrets I had fought to hide. Finally, he slowly looked away, drumming his fingernails on the space between us. He returned to me. "You are in the wrong, Fabiola. Being a little nice to me might be a good place to start."

I wave of hot fury rolls through me unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. ‘Bynjym?’ ‘It’s Queen Cyryl and Queen Skylar. Queen Cyryl has opened herself up to the thunder. It’s her fury that you feel. All the dragons and riders feel it.’ Well, that’s new. Cyryl dives, blowing her fire over the ones who just sent a harpoon through blue Pynyl’s wing. She’s crying piteously at the pain, but Cyryl’s fire burns the harpoon out of her wing. She still has the hole and will be unable to fly, but Skylar can heal her after the battle is done.