Wind In Phoenix Novels & Stories

Crayvin The Phoenix sun scorches my skin each time I have had to get out of the unit today. Dispatch has been calling us over the radio nonstop. An accident, theft, domestic violence... we have had one or more of each call so far and it is only 4:00 p.m.

She asked without looking at him. Luke was silent for so long that Sarah thought he was not going to answer at all. The silence and their staring contest were becoming too much for her, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She was about to give up when he mumbled. “A phoenix.” “A what?” her head snapped in his direction. “I am a phoenix,” Luke repeated, a little louder this time. “That’s not possible! They don’t exist!” Luke raised his brows in wonder. “I very much exist.” He had so many questions for her and for the first time in his long life didn’t know where to start. She obviously knew about the myths and legends of his world and was a bit shaken, so he gave her enough time to collect hers

I sighed audibly and heard another cry of the phoenix. I guess this is the start of my journey.

"I need help." "What do you want us to do?" Austin was the first one to ask. "Do you want us to scour the whole town for you? Call out Eloise's name while we're at it?" Damon questioned quite sarcastically. Ignoring Damon's sarcastic statements, Jethro spoke once again, "What do you want us to do?" I turned to face Renee who was taking a sip out of Caroline's flask, which was probably filled with vodka. "Renee, you can track phones, right?"

One by one, the rest of the logs composing the roof crackled and flew off, giving Emma a perfect view of the vortex swirling down to greet her. The broken roofing twisted on the currents of the tornado. Emma sensed enough power there to lift the entire cabin off the ground, but the only winter air she felt was at her back. It blew through the door and pushed her to her hands and knees. Above, the twisting mass of snow and debris distorted to reveal the bubble around which it spun. The wendigo stood cross-armed in the eye of the storm. It leered down at her, its grin stretching the scant millimeters its ruined lips would allow. The needle teeth the smile exposed didn’t belong in her father’s

When I left Vegas, I had no access to any funding whatsoever, and Sebastine’s father had also sent me off with nothing but a boarding pass to Vegas. The storm had not begun yet, but it was a thick, dark cloud and from the weight of the clouds, you could tell there was going to be an unforgiving storm. “On today’s news, Winchester and surrounding environment are expectant for a heavy downpour,” “Experts say that the storm may last a day or two, or who know? A week!” ‘The city, according to its history is said to experience this, once every seven years,” The news report went on and my hopes of leaving Winchester kept drowning.

The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but black lace and the phoenix tattoo on her wrist that marked her rebirth. Rafael's intake of breath was audible. "Jesus, Natalie. You're..." "What?" "Perfect." He traced the tattoo with one finger, his touch feather-light. "This is beautiful. What does it mean?" The question hit her like a physical blow. The phoenix was everything—her death, her rebirth, her transformation from victim to avenger. It was the symbol of rising from ashes, of becoming something stronger and more dangerous than what came before. But she couldn't tell him that. So she gave him a version of the truth instead.

It said. The shadow led me to an altar, and objects were hidden under a red cloth. He slowly removed it, revealing a gorgeous, black spear. I slowly reached out for it, lifting it into my hands. It was roughly seven feet long, its shaft carved from black iron starwood - a rare divine timber that grew where meteors struck centuries ago. Tapered and perfectly balanced, it feels weightless in my grip, yet I can feel that it carries the promise of thunderous power. The blade is also forged from divine-forged steel, so dark it seems to drink in light. Each prong curves outward like the talons of a war‐eagle. Along its edge, blood-red war‐runes pulse faintly, the inscription familiar to me. Below

As expected, only the cold, mechanical busy tone answered him. He pushed open the car door and stepped into the rain, walking slowly toward the building. Rain soaked through his expensive suit jacket, his hair plastered to his forehead, leaving him looking more disheveled than he ever had in his life. He tilted his head up, letting the cold rain wash over his face, as if it might extinguish the burning pain in his chest. Almost at the same moment, another sports car screeched to a stop nearby. Jake jumped out, already drenched, his eyes filled with the madness of someone on the brink of collapse and a final, desperate shred of hope.

We are new to this place, so it is better to have someone with us. It took us a few minutes before we reached a place where the Phoenix flowers bloom in red. I felt a different kind of feeling as I looked at every tree and flower. It is a little cooler in this place. The cold breeze touches my skin. There is an emotion I cannot explain, as I see the flowers and the leaves dancing with the wind. I hope these flowers will remind me of a memory that will help me in my healing. "Do you like it here?" Xavier spoke. I spoke and I caught his blue eyes staring at me.