Wings Of Fire 16 Novels & Stories

Kingston yelled and immediately a flaming fire fell on her b©dy She screamed and fell on the ground trying to get free from the fire but the fire only increased Kingston wasn’t satisfied,,he stood up and walked toward her but a for-ce stopped him all of a sudden that he couldn’t move. The fire on Moon’s b©dy went down also,,but she fainted right on the sp-ot The three deities appeared “You can’t hurt your mate” The first one said “She’s not my mate!!” Kingston yelled but it wasn’t him,,it’s his demon Botis who alre-ady took over completely

"When did you get so strong?" Sebastian asked me while we were driving from the police station. I just stared at my bloodied shirt silently. Never have I ever slipped like that before, heck I've never even fought a person. Well, apart from the verbal one I have never engaged someone physically. " You just kept punching the poor guy even after he begged for your forgiveness" " He did?" I asked suprised I swear I never heard a thing apart from Claire's scream. All I saw was a red punching bag which kept struggling underneath me. His struggles were like a fuel to that strange anger I had. What was up with me exactly?

I wanted to scream, to lash out, but I could only whimper, my face buried in the pillow. Finally, the fingers withdrew, leaving behind a raw, burning sensation. Then I felt it, Rylan’s cock, pressing against my entrance. It was massive, a blunt, unyielding force. He pushed, slowly at first, then with more determination. The pain was excruciating, a tearing, ripping sensation that made me cry out, a strangled sound that was half sob, half scream. It felt like he was splitting me in two, and my ass was burning... stretching... tearing...

Not natural. Not contained. Devastating. A dragon. Massive. Winged. Burning like the sun itself decided to take form and descend. My men don’t even have time to scream. The fire hits them. Consumes them. Erases them. Gone. I move. Fast. Barely avoiding the second wave. Heat slams into me anyway. Burning. Tearing. I land hard. Roll. Come up on one knee. Breathing heavier than I should be.

Eliza relaxes her control a little and Callie grins, “Thank you, Darlin’. I got some frustrations to work through, and it’ll help you understand what’s possible.” Eliza hums, ‘Have at it, Girl. I got your back.’ Callie laughs and half-shifts her wings out, then lets the flames out along them, flying at the next target, flapping her wings at the metal target, melting it as she passes, then sweeps around to the next one. Merlin is replacing the targets as they disappear, and Callie’s really letting loose. Twisting as she flies, clawing at one target, then breathing fire at another before sending two more fireballs at the last remaining targets, headshots.

“But she had me put my hand in her fire and it didn’t burn me at all. I can’t believe it. When Kenna was blasting her fire everywhere, it was so hot. But now ...” “Kenna’s fire is hotter than mine, especially when you add the full force of her emotions behind it,” Ember says to him. When she pulls her hand out of his, Killian looks like he wants to pull it back, but he doesn’t, once again giving her the space she needs. “But you’re right. You are immune to a fire dragon’s fire now.”

Believed she might destroy Aiden, Rowan—everyone. But then—Aiden’s hand squeezed hers, grounding her in the storm. His voice was steady, certain, unshakable. “No,” he said firmly. “You are not the fire, Evelynn. The fire is you.” And with those words, everything shifted. The flames within her no longer felt like chains. They felt like wings. Evelynn raised her hands, and the fire answered. Not in wild, reckless bursts—but in a controlled blaze that lit the storm-torn night like dawn breaking. The creatures hesitated, shadows quivering. Even Cassian faltered, his expression twisting for the first time into doubt.

Or a dream that had bled too vividly into the light of day. I found myself at the end of the corridor, before a tapestry I hadn’t noticed before. It was longer than the others, brushing the floor with its edges curled like pressed petals between the pages of a book. I reached out without thinking, letting my fingertips graze the fabric. It was warmer than it should be. Alive somehow. The image was partially faded, but I could make out the shape of a woman, tall, crowned in flame, her back to a mountain of wings. Around her, elements that I now recognized swirled. Fire, ice, storm, shadow, wind, earth. The six. As my fingers brushed against the edge of the central flame, the voice spoke to me

They had a plan. Reyes turned slowly in place, taking in the scorched earth, the silence. The evidence was gone, scrubbed clean with fire and time. He exhaled through his nose, jaw clenched. Not defeated. Just angry. He raised the camera. “Bramley Lot—burned down. No signs of occupants. No heat. They’re gone.” A beat of silence. Then quieter: “They’re cleaning house.” He stood still a moment longer, then turned and walked back to the car.

It felt like everything began playing in slow motion as Isabella let out a deafening scream, his brother Patrick was about to burn to death just like his mother in a few seconds. The fire kept coming closer to Patrick with each second that passed by and all of a sudden a bright light that was blinding took over the room. Isabella swore she saw a man stand between Amayah and the fire that was about to reach his brother and put it out without lifting a finger. “Are those wings”. Patrick gasped at the beautiful sight he just beheld… Amayah was equally surprised as well, the wings were whiter than snow, almost as if he was an angel. The man wrapped the wings around Amayah and they both varnished