The Wingfeather Saga Book 1 Novels & Stories

I scream until my throat hurts and I can taste blood in the back of my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see something flitting at the corner of the roof like the wind was spinning around in a little tornado stuck in that corner. Pieces of trash were flitting around as well, but I ignored those as I walk over to investigate. I bend down to pick up the small delicate feather that caught my attention. This feather is all too familiar as it matches the light blue, almost grey of Divina's wings. This can’t be a coincidence. I bring the feather up to my nose and smell it. It’s scent bringing me to my knees. It’s her. She’s alive. Goddess, she’s alive. I don’t care if anyone can see or he

He would bargain for eternity to see it again, but the moment came and the Festival began - the exhibitions of Celestial Wing The feathers on her back began to line up like scales. Her spine looked carved out by the bones of her wings. Then something amazing happened: everyone had wings, black and white, demons and angels alike. But it was hers that sparkled the brightest. When he saw her face, he realized she wasn't the same anymore. The scenery changed again before he could describe i

My vision spins, but I push myself back up. I can’t stop now. The beast comes at me again. I close my eyes and dig deep. I feel the power inside me…the light, the fire, the part of me that’s growing stronger every day. I let it rise. My body lifts off the ground again, and this time, wings made of silver flames burst from my back. They shimmer like moonlight. I fly straight at the beast, dodging its claws and slamming a ball of fire into its head. It screams and stumbles, but still doesn’t fall.

“Are you my boyfriend or my bodyguard?” He held his ring in front of me, my eyes were magnetized by the intricate carvings on it. “Guardian angel, remember?” He straightened up on his seat, and in a louder than necessary voice, he said, “And unlike the last one you had, I have a sword, not a halo. And my wings are black, not white. It’s time they realized who they will have a problem with the next time they hurt even a single hair in your body!” My eyes widened at him. He took my hand in his again, and then he bent down to kiss my fingers once again. “I love you, angel.” He didn’t even whisper that. I was sure many people around us heard everything he said.

A shriek came out of her mouth which made Anna look behind to find Aura falling down. "Aura!" Anna panicked and screamed taking her name and jumped off without thinking of the consequence. Suddenly she felt a burning sensation on her back and soon two jet-black wings came out of her back. Each feather has the top part jet black with the hairs or fibers sticking out of the sides, while the end of the edge itself is blood red. Flipping the wings in the air she flies down and catches Aura before she falls into the river of fire.

Not yet. Rea's wings moved behind her. Slowly, gracefully they spread, like two arcs of white, shimmering silver at the tips. The soft light of the bath filtered through the feathers, as if she had brought a fragment of another world with her. As she fully unfolded them, the wings gently curved around them, folding inward like a tent, like a living shield. The outside world vanished. Only the two of them remained—and the silence of the water.

Like something inside her had decided: No survivors. One Winged creature launched toward the sky, trying to flee over the roofs. Nyra followed. She rose, golden wings cutting the air like blades, and caught up in seconds. She slammed into it mid-flight. They tumbled. Nyra recovered first, always first, wings snapping open to stabilise her, and she drove the fleeing creature downward with her body like a spear. They crashed onto a roof. Tiles exploded. The Winged creature screamed. Nyra ripped its throat out. Black blood sprayed across broken tiles.

“What class do you have first?” Wilkes asked both Trisha and Harold. “Flight Erudition known casually as FE,” Trisha responded. Wilkes eyes widened. “Do you know what that means?!” he asked, barely able to keep his excitement to himself. “No,” Harold drawled. “Trisha will be taught to fly using a broom!” he said, louder than he intended to. “I won't exactly be taught to,” Trisha said. “What do you mean?”

This isn't about being weak anymore, its about being true. At that thought, her muscles twitched and a light shaa hymned into the midnight atrium; broad wings reaching above the hedge walls. The movements were heavy and bulky, perhaps even especially painful to configure and use, but with a deep, strong breath, she moved awkwardly. A dip of the arm, a stretch of a wing, an envious look to the sky- she looked back to the obscure entrance, wondering what would happen if she flew away, right now. She didn't know where she would go- maybe she would go far, far away- someplace where there were no people; someplace so cold it could numb the past. Releasing the fantasy with a controlled huff, she w

After the boys had left my room, I went through my bag and pulled out my favorite book, Night Flame, by Catherine Hart. I sat back in my chair by the window, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading when a shiver ran down my spine. I jumped out of my seat and spun around to see a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the corner of the room. As those eyes drew closer to me, I realized that it was Simon, the fae that came to warn me the other day.