Sky From Super Wings Novels & Stories

But then I crashed into something solid and the air left my lungs. Confused and still feeling like I was flying, I kept my eyes closed while my hands pressed against whatever it was that I was now lying on. When I could breathe normally again I opened my eyes and looked around, realizing that I was indeed still flying, but not towards the ground. I was floating evenly across the sky, with my dress and hair dancing past me. I blinked away the dryness of the air hitting me and looked down, taking note of the deep black, scaly thing I was on.

He was curious to know the kind of wings she had. “Yes, do you want to see it?” she smiled. Her scarlet eyes radiated under the moonlight, adding enigma to her lethal beauty. “It will be an honor.” Rieska closed her eyes, and a moment later, her wings took shape. It was black similar to a bat. There were gold and crimson swirls on its membrane. “How is it?” She widely opened her wings, levitated near him that he could perfectly see the small details in it. It was fascinating.

The sky-mount is a terrifying, magnificent creature, its leathery wingspan wide enough to shadow the entire ruined courtyard in a flickering, bat-like veil. As it launches itself into the air, the world beneath us falls away, replaced by a dizzying, violent expanse of clouds and moonlight that threatens to swallow us whole. The freezing wind whips my hair into a frenzy, tearing at my eyes, stinging like abrasive salt, and I am forced to wrap my arms tightly around Daryl’s waist to keep from plunging into the jagged, frost-bitten peaks below. Every muscle in my body is screaming, stretched taut by the sheer velocity of our ascent.

They had to talk to each other before talking to Moon and Sky. "What you want Xan"? Sky asked once he left those buttery lips that he never wanted to leave. Moon held his back to his chest, already processing to open his shirt and jeans that Sky pulled down to his legs. He parted his legs and wrapped them around his shoulders bending down a bit.

The bag had been with him for years, and I knew every compartment better than he did. When I unzipped the innermost pocket, my fingers brushed a small velvet box. It wasn't his. Inside was a custom solo wings pin, with an engraving on the back. "For Lark's first solo." Beneath the words was a date. Three days ago. Under the pin sat a flight school tuition receipt. The payer was Ethan. The student was Skyler Hayes. Below that was a printed photograph. Skyler was in the left seat of a small training aircraft, her hand on the control yoke. Ethan sat on the right, his black-gloved hand resting over hers, his head tilted slightly toward her.