Under His Wings Book Novels & Stories

For now, I would watch and count the moments and find the seams where pressure could be applied without shattering everything we had begun. At night, I wrote on the first page of a new notebook, a line dedicated to what I would not forget. I would not forget that the man who asked me to be his life also told me his mother had been praying for this day. I would not forget either that prayers can sometimes come folded in chains. I would not forget the taste of the sea, the sand that still clung to my feet from the night he asked, and the small hope that somewhere between the prayer and the chain there existed a passage wide enough for both of us to step through.

Glancing back at the door, I felt the urge to back away, but I stayed back. Gulping hard, I reached for the book; it almost dropped off my hand due to its heaviness. I sat on one of the chairs and opened it. The first page had me reeling in shock. It was a history book of the generations that existed centuries before. From the first page, I was glued to the introduction of all the varying beings and their respective strengths. My eyes rounded like saucers when I saw the page about angels. I thought they were a myth, but I am reading about their existence on Earth. Each creature has a birthmark, and I was shocked to see the same mark as the one on my lower belly behind me. Wings.

He flinched slightly and I apologized. When he unfurled his wings they expanded over six feet. He then grabbed my hand and brought me into him, wrapping his arms around me. His wings created a cacoon around us, separating us from the rest of the world. I had forgotten that I stood in his arms with just a bra and sweat pants on and somehow I had forgotten his Greek God like body that was pressed against me. He just had the most captivating stare I had ever seen. The glow that emanated off him was a soft pink.

They would have to do. As he reached the door, Meg murmured again. With a glance back, he opened her bedroom door. It creaked, but she didn't seem to wake from the noise. "Hm?" she said. Or did she? He closed the door on her words. Racing out of the apartment he found the stairs to the roof. He let his wings unfurl completely. When he looked at his pants he realized they said, "Juicy" on the back. "That won't do."

“You’re right, I’m going to see her.” He gives me a wistful smile and salutes me with his drink. “Good luck.” Stepping out of the club, I make my way to my car. I can’t help but think about what I’m going to do. As I drive up to my hill, I take a couple of moments to contemplate my options. Even though Azazel’s advice is useful, I can’t help but feel trepidation build in my stomach. As if certain of what I should do, my wings strain for release. I don’t think as I unbutton my shirt and remove it. My wings expand behind my back, flexing and fluttering with relief. It’s been difficult to contain my wings lately. I guess if I had to describe it, I would say it feels like if you had your hands t

“You are my guardian angel in human form, Hunter. You may be wingless… but you’re just as magnificent, just as beautiful as an angel would be. I love you.” “I love you more.” he said gently kissing my lips again. I raised a brow at him. “Really? How could you be so sure that you love me more?” He gave me a playful grin. Then in a serious voice, he said, “Because I traded my wings just to be with you, beautiful.” As we kissed again under the stars and the lovers’ moon, I vowed to prove him wrong. I have the rest of our lives to show him that I love him… exactly as much as he loves me.

My eyes watered just staring at them. He lifted up from me, placing his hands on his waist and trying to strike a pose. He looked majestic, like a god. "What do you think, huh? Wanna do it with my wings out? That's very kinky of you, Cross-" His wings fluttered with great winds- Wings… Two… wings? "Why do you have two?” A/N: I'm back.

Only when I set it down did I realize he hadn’t moved. Still staring. Still silent. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, forcing myself to my feet. Every muscle protested, but I stood anyway. Because weakness wasn’t an option. “Where am I?” I rasped. “My wing,” he said simply. The words hit like a punch. His wing. The part of the estate nobody talked about. The part even Papa’s men avoided after dark. I crossed my arms over my chest, heart slamming painfully. “You didn’t have to bring me here,” I said.

he says more to himself than anything. Her wings are splayed out awkwardly around her and I can’t imagine how we are going to carry her without further harming her wings. “Help me roll her onto her stomach,” he orders, and we gently roll her. I step back to let him work on her wings. I have no clue what to do with them, but he seems to understand. He tucks them back in behind her and they cover her like a blanket. Then we rolled her onto her back, and he easily lifts her from the ground and walks toward the tree line with long, sure strides.