Trail Of Broken Wings Novels & Stories

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.

I tilted my neck to find the room empty. I breathed out and collapsed on the floor with hot tears trailing down on my cheeks which I never knew I held. They say a caged bird remains in the cage no matter how much it tries to fly away with its broken wings. It will always remain weak, broken and shackled. And here I was the one. All broken, numb and destroyed. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- I hope you like it. Thoughts so far?

He stands over near the window and gazes out at the autumn wind blowing orange and yellow leaves around in the air, scattering them all around the city. "You look so lost and broken like you're afraid to learn how to fly again. You have wings but you're too afraid to use them, even though you've gained a few more… that's why I call you little bird…" Tears fill my eyes and blur my vision as I take in his heartfelt words, laying here unsure of how to process them. "You'll be able to fly again, little bird. All you need is a little push to feel the wind beneath your wings. You were made to fly, believe it or not, and one day, you'll soar high above the clouds, finally at peace with your demons…

“Ryder, you have to fly! Fly higher, you’re going to hit the ground!” Like waking from a dream, my breath hitched when I was finally seeing what was really in front of me again. I had no time to correct my position. All I could do was tuck my wings around my body and roll with the impact. Dust billowed into the air when my large frame made contact with hard earth. Trees and branches broke beneath me but did nothing to slow my pace as I continued to roll. My wings tore and there was no doubt some of my scales had peeled off with every impact of the unforgiving earth.

The audience erupted in thunderous applause, and several world-renowned dancers gave us rave reviews. Marissa wheeled me to center stage. Since the incident, this was my first time stepping onto a stage again as a choreography consultant. I bowed my head alongside the other dancers, grateful for the audience's support. This time, the flashing cameras and the eyes of strangers didn't scare me. I felt like I had found a new purpose. … Three years later, I choreographed a dance called "The Fallen Butterfly." I performed it entirely from my wheelchair and became the first dancer of my kind.

Trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered, and Marcus was a wild card they couldn’t afford to ignore. As they stepped out into the dawn light, the city waking up around them, Sophia felt a chill run down her spine. The game they were playing was more dangerous than ever, the stakes higher than they had ever been. But they had no choice. They had to keep moving, keep fighting, no matter the cost. The journey to Marcus’s hideout was tense, each moment filled with the threat of danger. The streets were empty at this early hour, the city still cloaked in shadows. Marcus led the way, his movements confident and assured, as if he had done this a thousand times before.

How could he bear such pain, and risk everything he was, just for someone ordinary like me—a human girl who had no idea she would mean this much to him? “You never should have broken the rules,” I said, my voice cracking and breaking with every word. “Look at you… just look at what happened to your back. How could you not think about the consequences? What if this wasn’t the only thing they did to you? What if you suffered something far worse than just having your wings torn away?” I trailed off, biting hard on my lower lip to hold back the flood of tears threatening to pour out, overwhelmed by a deep, aching concern and a terrifying fear of what else he might have gone through.

His wings were being ripped from his body. “FATHER!” He shouted to the sky. He watched as chunks of his wings fell to the ground. He was falling. “FATHER, NO!” Shit. This fucking hurts. He began trying to rip at his back to make the pain stop. All the while he was plummeting to the ground. He hit hard, and fast. Laying there he just stared at the sky. Either way he was going to lose his wings. If he let Gadreel go he would have killed her and returned home to report the happenings here. By unjustly taking Gadreel’s life he had broken a sacred vow, and now he had fallen.

But she can’t give up now. She kept walking for too long with heavy steps and then she tried spreading out her wings. For a moment, she was thankful that her wings came out. Speckles of golden glitters from her wings were dancing along the gravity like waves of motion. Now the zigzag path ignites with the flames of her wings either horizontally, vertically, or in waves. Because of it, the unknown path slowly revealed the right way, but still so far to reach. She didn’t know how many hours or days she had been walking and with every agonizing step, her body was trembling and her legs were numb with pain. She could only grind her teeth while trying to accept the excruciating pain.

I whisper. Gloria squeals and says, “You look like a fairy. I want to see you with your wings!” I roll my eyes and shake my head at her. “Please, Divina, I want to see too,” Bren says softly. "Okay," I say and let my wings out. “They're not blue anymore,” Bren says in shock. “No, when they grew back, they came back white,” I answer her. “What do you mean, when they grew back, Divina. What happened to you?” Bren says, her voice taking on a hard tone. “Alpha Drake cut them off me,” I say softly and close my eyes against the memory. Having my wings taken from me, was almost as bad as being rejected by Warrick. “That’s a story for another time,” I tell her, hoping she will drop it. “You’ve been