The Wings Upon Her Back Novels & Stories

With only one palm, I was able to make it tip and fall. The glasses shattered into a million pieces, shooting shards at all of us in the room. I didn't mind the pain as the wings lay flat on the ground. "Your master is back," I said with a menacing smile before extending my arms forward. The wings rose from the ground like it had a mind of its own before flying to my direction. I stared at it lovingly waiting for it to come.

"They’re in the Dark Stone Fortress. Let’s go!" Before she could even voice her concern, I grabbed her by the waist, lifting her effortlessly into my arms. She gasped, her hands instinctively wrapping around me as I jumped from the window, the ground rushing toward us in a blur. She shut her eyes tightly, expecting us to plummet, but I didn’t let her fall. The wind whipped past us, and when she opened her eyes, she saw my wings unfurl behind me, cutting through the air like a dark storm. “Wow,” she whispered, awe in her voice, eyes wide with amazement.

Prince Zephrain's unwavering smile, his strong resolve and uncanny sayings just to make her smile. She wanted to run. The tingle at her back seemed to beg her to take flight, but… She remembered all the failed attempts of her childhood and she was scared once again. But the night was clear and the whole city was quiet, her inner self argued. She decided to risk it. One arch of her back and crystals began to sprout from her back and ripped through her skin and through her dandelion cloak. A six feet wide with crystals as its feathers, a pair of wings spread in the air. Finally, she felt free.

I had his arm pinned to his back while my wings beat at the air in big swings causing feathers and dust to cascade around us. He may be fast, but I was stronger, with wings. I pushed off of him, jumping as my wings beat downwards propelling me upward, and I perched on the railing that ran along the edge of the first floor platform. There I waited while he straightened his cloths. I hurt the wolfs pride, but what must be done is now done.

“Where is that bitch? Is she still sleeping?” A harsh voice resounded in the background, piercing through the darkness surrounding me. “Yes, Alpha.” Another sickly sweet voice sounded, “Now that she is going to turn eighteen, she has sprouted wings. She thinks that a charming mate will appear magically and save her.” “Omega!” The harsh voice sounded again, this time louder with a tinge of controlled anger. “Come down this moment!” I groaned and tossed to my side, covering my ears. Why were they shouting so loudly? Another groan left my lips, followed by a whimper.

I don't know; it just suddenly came to mind. Something was eager in my system, so I couldn't stop it. I raised my eyebrows when she said that she was going to apply the lotion. The thing is, my palm is not calloused. So I asked in surprise. "W-what? I'm going to wash it because, ahm," she stammered. "up to the hips."

Her horns curved back from her skull like polished ivory, long and elegant, though one had a fracture near the base. Her wings were massive, thin at the edges, scarred from battles no one in the palace even remembered, and when she spread them over the moonlit towers, the shadows of her wings covered the marble roofs like night itself had bowed to her. She did not look young. She did not look untouched. She looked ancient, wounded, proud, and alive, like a piece of the galaxy’s first fire had decided it was not done burning yet.

Six months later, I returned home—except this time, I had a permanent little shadow trailing right behind me. “Sera, where am I crashing tonight?” “Sera, let me carry your bags for you.” I walked ahead, a mix of mild exasperation and fondness washing over me.

I rolled my eyes. “Aarrghh! You are sound just like mother Tina. Good thing we are two princesses. You can be all of that, I'm good just like this.” She argued and I chuckled. Her jet-black bob hung perfectly on her shoulder. She paced the room with her black knee-length boots gently stamping the floor. Her hips swayed alongside her waist in the tight, skinny black jeans she wore. Her cleavage was in full view, all thanks to the black crop top she had on.

With wide eyes, I watched feathers emerge from her back, blood-red feathers, growing with each grunt, soon to reveal a pair of mighty, bloody wings fluttering uncertainly in the wind. "What the fuck?" I didn't finish the sentence because there was a sudden movement, and I was already screaming out of fear. I held Mackenzie like a vine as the cold wind whipped my naked body, and the raindrops washed away the sweat and dirt from me. Mckenzie continued to stare at the sky as, as if in a trance, she moved through the clouds, carrying us on her angel wings above the storm.