The Wings Of Fire Novels & Stories

He took another slow drag from his cigarette before exhaling, the smoke curling lazily in the dimly lit gym. “Not all flames die out quickly, son,” he mused, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “Some need a slow, controlled burn before they truly turn to ash.” I clenched my jaw. “I don’t have the patience for slow.” He hummed in amusement, his sharp eyes watching me like he already knew how this would end. “Then make her burn the way you want. But be careful not to get burned yourself.” I let out a dry chuckle, rolling my shoulders to shake off the irritation settling in my bones.

I collapsed to my knees, clutching my chest as the agony intensified, my vision blurring with tears. “Bella!” Edward’s voice broke through the haze, panic laced in his tone. The fire in my veins erupted, and I screamed as the room filled with blinding light. The pain struck like a lightning bolt, sharp and unforgiving, coursing through every vein and bone in my body. I screamed, clutching my chest as the heat inside me burned hotter and brighter. The first change came with a searing sensation across my back. I arched in agony as my skin tore, giving way to something new. Wings burst forth in a fiery inferno, massive and powerful, their cerulean with purple edges shimmering with iridescent h

Then—an explosion. The fire surged, twisting unnaturally, moving with purpose, as though it were alive. A wave of heat slammed into me. I turned my body, shielding the child as I rolled out of the way, the flames licking at my back. Pain flared, sharp and searing. My wolf howled in agony, but I clenched my teeth. I could heal. The child couldn’t. The fire withdrew as quickly as it had come. I forced myself to my feet, gripping the girl tightly in my arms.

I feel whole again as I let a small flame dance over my fingertips. I can’t resist. I run outside and create the largest fireball I’ve ever made and throw it straight into the stream causing steam to rise from the surface, I’m back baby. I put on a well fitting pale blue dress that looks like it is made of ice, the back is covered. Not because of the cold but because I want Scott to think I'm still weak., I don't need to worry about the cold anymore, not now that my flames are back.

Flames A Rare kind of witches, extinct. The last Flames were burned down by common witches for the crime of being unique. Flames powers consist of Fire. Manipulating fire, imagining it, using it for one's need, and lastly illusions. Flames and Werewolves are the only supernaturals that can coexist without feeling a need to be at war with each other. There have come a time where a werewolf mate had to be a flame and the flame had to have an "Ignis" ( a soulmate ), they called him ignis because the wolves ignited the flames' fire. Just like the wolves, the Flames tend to have a short temper. When the werewolves started becoming extinct, the flames lashed out on families, friends, and mainly on

It was like he had stepped right into the heart of a raging fire. He seemed to not be himself as Alpha took over, then suddenly a blanket of flames flew up about three feet off the ground on either side of him, glowing brightly. His head was bowed low before he finally looked up, his eyes flying open a deep fiery pit of gold, that showed no emotion at all, and Instantly the flames surrounding him died out, the blanket of flames on either side of him, hanging three feet in the air suddenly cooled, fading away into two huge golden wings, smooth like a plate of golden metal, and two shimmery horns protruding from each point of conjunction.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔 Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's Nᴏᴛᴇ For everything in this journey of life we are on, there is a right wing and a left wing: for the wing of love there is anger; for the wing of destiny there is fear; for the wing of pain there is healing; for the wing of hurt there is forgiveness; for the wing of pride there is humility; for the wing of giving there is taking; for the wing of tears there is joy; for the wing of rejection there is acceptance; for the wing of judgment there is grace; for the wing of honor there is shame; for the wing of letting go there is the wing of keeping.

Their wings spread wide until they broke through the thin walls of the place I’ve called home for over a year. My attention flickers to the helpless fish near my bed, and he watches the scene before him with big, pressured eyes. But he’s safe. For now. With a fiery breath, Finn torches the bag on the floor. Silver and gold burst out from the magically enclosed bag. The spellbook burned as it wafted through the air, singed and burning, causing ash to drift about. "Stop. Stop!" It burns my palms, but the paper is nothing more than crisps of ash when they hit my skin. I sink to my knees staring around at the destruction of my home. All my hard work lies in ashes, and there’s nothing I can do ab

Give in. I closed my eyes and felt him deep inside me. I felt him clawing away in there, and I let go, dropping whatever barrier was holding him back. A ring of fire spread across my eyes. My entire body was a light yellow fire with bright orange and red tips. Wings erupted from my shoulder blades, spreading wide beside me. They were covered in orange and deep red flames. Every step I took turned the sand on the shore into glass.

It lifted its head from deep blue fire, its wings edged in ash white and gold-red. No throne. No family crest. No name pressed over its own. It rose from the flames and flew forward. Living only for itself.