Wings Of Fire Books Online Novels & Stories

"But I'll have to leave right now." "No—" The word tore out of me as fire lunged up my throat again, and this time it wasn't fully contained. A thin ribbon of flame licked past my teeth, scorching the air an inch from her face. She didn't flinch. "Wait—" My wings ripped free from my back, unfurling wide enough to knock over two desks. Smoke poured from my nostrils in ragged pulses. Somewhere above the roaring in my skull, I heard the wolf girl's scent—something like pine and old rain—and it snagged on a memory I couldn't place, gone before I could grab it.

The marsh beyond the hollow walls stirred as if holding its breath. She felt everything. Rowan’s fury. Lucien’s hunger. Her own rising storm. She lifted her hands—fire and frost blazing in perfect symmetry. The marsh answered. Roots erupted through the floor in long, twisting spears. Fire burst from her palms in a column of gold, but frost intertwined with it—blue-white veins snapping through the flames like ice lightning. Wolves howled as frost sealed their paws to the stone, while the fire seared the air around them.

~ Amara ~ "Amara, stay back! Get to the gates now!" Gideon’s voice was a ragged scream that barely cut through the roar of the fire. The orange light was blinding. It turned the dark garden into a nightmare of shifting, red shadows. I could feel the heat on my skin, stinging and dry like a desert wind. The West Wing of Moore Crest was no longer a building. It was a wall of pure fire. Thick, black smoke curled into the night sky like heavy snakes. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard it felt like it might actually break.

I flew. I didn't care about the "Vulture-Drones" or the Council’s "Orbital-Snipers." I unfurled my wings, which were no longer just violet-lead; they were veined with a terrifying, liquid gold that left a trail of shimmering fire in the smog. I ripped through the air, the G-force pulling at my skin, my vision locked onto the refinery docks. Every second I was in the air, I was screaming internally—not a scream of grief, but a scream of Refusal.

Give in. I closed my eyes and felt him deep inside me. I felt him clawing away in there, and I let go, dropping whatever barrier was holding him back. A ring of fire spread across my eyes. My entire body was a light yellow fire with bright orange and red tips. Wings erupted from my shoulder blades, spreading wide beside me. They were covered in orange and deep red flames. Every step I took turned the sand on the shore into glass.

He was just standing in the sunlight, and Ravi squinted as he saw something gleaming in the man's hand. Ravi focused his vision further to ensure that the object the man held wasn't what he thought it was. The man's hand moved, still gazing, and Ravi's eyes widened when he could see clearly. Ravi froze, subconsciously gripping Raymond's wrist tightly. He saw a shimmering sword smeared with red liquid that was undoubtedly blood. But it didn't end there. Ravi froze further without realizing it, tightening his hold on Raymond's wrist as he observed the man's wings, which were white and almost identical to Raymond's. The wings flapped, and he flew away somewhere.

Arabella whispered, her voice quivering. To her astonishment, she observed the metal bars starting to dissolve as she clutched them with her hands. With caution, she eased herself out of the cage, an overwhelming warmth coursing through her veins. The heat within her intensified, her gaze drawn inexorably to the flames dancing around her. Then, as if by some enchantment, the fires surged forth with intensity, as if the ancient power of the Phoenix spirit had ignited within her. Turning slowly, Arabella fixed her eyes on the two majestic wings—flaming red and shimmering gold. Her heart raced as the realization struck her: she possessed the ability to manifest wings, just like Orga.

Prologue II: Pyre, 3113 Pyre Av 5, 3113 Stephan Caliphus, King Everything was on fire the night he finished the book in the back room of a borrowed house. He laid his glasses down on the desk in front of him and rubbed his tired eyes. The crackling of flames could be heard as the city burned all around them. The blood curdling screams of the men in the streets where they died was enough to make the blood of the fiercest warrior run cold, but he was a man of empathy and it hurt him more than it did the others.

The next shot rings out. Control snapped as always sending heat coursing through my blood. The pain always feels so real. Flames leap across my vision. The ground below me turning to ash. The tree turned to char as the flames dance across the branches. Swallowing it whole. The swing falls and crumbles. Seeing the house begin to burn, the flowers long gone, the fire blazes around me, and my world goes black. Pain is the strongest reminder I was there. I open my eyes and look at my surroundings. Ashe covers the metal in black smudges. Yeah, I’m home. Letting my breathing return to normal I reach out and unlock the handle and push on the iron door.

(My favorite). Red is believed to be the color of love. But it has the intensity to burn. Its flames when roar leaves nothing. They only destroy. But so, does love. This time Hades will burn. Everything. Because if it turns out that the girl, he has been searching for is someone he loves. The fire in his eyes will leave no ashes. Should I let myself get caught in the crossfire?