Starflight From Wings Of Fire Novels & Stories

I can see the faint outline of what looks like wings spread behind her. Wings of fire that seem to take the shape of a heart… A piercing scream rips through the air as her power increases tenfold and surges into the sky, emanating in waves around her. I see the swirls of the flames behind her move before I see a tiny part of her left wing snap and shrivel into embers of ash. It’s too blinding to look at, and I’m forced to avert my gaze.

They flare on either side of me and when I stand, the points arch to encompass a wide scope of the ground, causing the others to back away in shock. Because I have wings. Wings of fire.

He growls before commanding me to fly now unless I want to be condemned to the depths of Tartarus and made into a soulless creature. I tighten my arms against Luka as I flap my giant wings, rising us up above the soulless. The smog spreads quickly, trying to entangle us in it, but my wings send a powerful gust of wind as I take off into the air, sweeping the smog away from us.

This hunger that kept her constantly in my mind. But a crazed panic overcame me one day while I was out for a short flight. I had left my office feeling tense and annoyed that I couldn't go see Amara until my paperwork was finished, deciding to Shift and take Erebos out to stretch his wings. It’s a long but welcome process for a dragon to Shift, with our body melding into our dragon's heart while the rest manifests through a cloud of black smoke. My solid black and scale covered body had been enjoying the sky just aimlessly flying over the forest when a distant cracking sound caught my attention. I dropped lower and found myself over the ruins, my heart stopping cold in my chest as I caught

She didn’t even seem to be taking a breath. He caught that finger in his hand before it went flying up his nose. Sweet tingles and flames ran up both their arms at the touch. Her mouth finally stopped moving as she gaze stared at my hand clasping hers. She had to feel that. He’ll, see that. Keegan had heard the mate bond could create tingles of the skin when emotions were high, but he had never heard anyone mention sparking flames before. That had to do something with her. The flames weren’t burning us. Just running over our skin. Her mouth hung open as she finally looked up into my eyes.

The twins pouted but they actually did obey me. "I had an accident." I turned to look at Fola who was looking at the twins at where they sat, on the floor. The twins turned back and in no minute, they'd stood up and were beside Fola on the sofa. "You don't have to....." "A fire accident when I was small." "Ohhh" The twins chorushed again, their eyes downcast and they started to trail their hands over her scars. "It must have hurt." "Yeah, a whole lot. It still hurt."

I close my eyes, jump backward, and fall off the side of our city in the sky, Caelum. The air drags me through an abyss of grey. I close my eyes, a tear ripped from my face by whipping wind. I can never go home again. Spreading my wings open with a snap, I let the wind catch me as I break free of the clouds. The vast, dark expanse of the desert below sprawls endlessly before me. It takes only minutes before my feet touch the sand, wind chilling my toes through my sandals. It really wasn’t that long a fall at all.

A staff member answered instead, “It’s still unclear what happened, and the live broadcast didn’t have time to switch to his feed. “But from the video just now, it seems the car that fell was number thirteen.” Alanna exhaled and shifted her gaze. I realized the truth then. Last night, I had mentioned to Alanna that I was assigned number fourteen, the last driver, but before the race, I was suddenly given the thirteenth spot. The driver’s car had a problem and needed emergency repairs, so he wanted to swap positions. I agreed without hesitation. It had been abrupt, and I hadn’t told Alanna. Yet the large screen had already been refreshed. Anyone paying attention could have realized that numbe

She looked back. Twins. Warriors. Bound by blood—and now, by something even deeper.

“What… am I looking at?” “Cinema,” Ethan said with all the pride of a film critic. Mr. Wright leaned back, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. His fingers curled loosely around his drink. The collar of his night shirt still hung scandalously low. Chest tan and annoyingly sculpted. Vaguely illegal. I ignored it. Badly. The movie started with a spaceship crashing into a wedding. Literally. On the altar. Someone screamed “YOU MAY NOW KISS THE BRIDE” as laser beams flew across the screen.