Novel & Cerita Wings Of Fire Cover

And this time, she would ensure that anyone who had burned her wings would burn with her in the fires of her revenge. END OF CHAPTER 32..

"You’re the one who whispered to me in the dark when the Council was carving into my bones. You’re the 'Extinction' they were so afraid of." The figure—the Red-Winged Dante—stepped into the light. It was a perfect, terrifying blend of us. It had Dante’s lethal, massive frame and his predator’s stance, but from its spine erupted a pair of wings that were an exact, burning replica of mine. They weren't made of "Void-Lead" or "Obsidian-Gold." They were made of Primal Fire, a deep, arterial red that seemed to drink the light from the room.

They stretched wide behind him, crackling with heat so intense the air rippled. Rowan stared, frozen. Kai swore under his breath. “Those aren’t fire wings. They’re something else.” Mistara stepped forward slowly. “Those are the markings of the Unbound Flame. A form that should not exist.” Rowan forced her legs to keep moving. “Azeriel listen to me. You can control this.” “I can’t,” he whispered, voice breaking. “It hurts.” One of the wings twisted violently, sending a streak of dark flame toward the sky. The summit trembled again. The fire from his body rose higher, pulling, swirling, trying to break free of everything holding it down.

They flare on either side of me and when I stand, the points arch to encompass a wide scope of the ground, causing the others to back away in shock. Because I have wings. Wings of fire.

Austin's gaze first landed on my face, then my chest, my waist, and finally, to the center of my thighs. "Hey, are you having a miscarriage?" I looked down at once and nearly fainted from embarrassment. My blood had seeped right through my clothes! Also, what sort of stupid question was he asking? I turned red with embarrassment. I wanted to cry because of how ashamed and embarrassed I was. Austin suddenly leaped up and grabbed a school jacket from the tree branches before handing it to me. "Use this to cover up," he said. As it turned out, he had left his uniform hanging in the tree branches. That explained why he had been walking toward me just now.

"Visibility: more than six miles. Cloud ceiling: above two miles. Wind speed: five knots." The sky was clear. I had spent seven years getting my hands on these two documents. One of them was retrieved from the Federal Aviation Authority, and the other one was from the National Meteorological Department. They had never been placed side by side for a comparison. Today, at 6:00 pm, the secretary of Zach Airways' board of directors called the Federal Aviation Administration's disciplinary inspection team. They had filed a complaint against me, the chief examiner, for abusing my power over personal affairs.

That little motion was my signal to myself and I pulled at my inner fire, calling it into place the second my foot hit the dirt. Flames of brilliant violet burst out all around me, surrounding every piece of silver I had on, as well as the entire sword. This was the reason why I had nothing but plain silver adornments on, because I was using them as place holders for my fire. They were heavy and cold against my skin, giving me precise locations to focus my inner flames on. So now I stood before the audience with purple flames around my ankles and wrists, with more swallowing the small earrings and thin silver threads that were hanging in my hair.

“Hey! I will save you, hold on.” Seeing Andy arrive, a ray of hope radiated from the old man's face, then he fainted from inhaling too much smoke. Andy looked around, searching for any usable tools. However, he found nothing. Suddenly, wings emerged from behind his back; he flapped his wings and then placed the two men on his shoulders. The fire moved aside, making his path smooth without any obstacles. Andy walked without fear, his hands, and face now feeling severe burns as he approached the door. He didn't realize his wings had disappeared, and Andy burst out carrying the two men on his shoulders.

I know what I must do, what we all must do. To my left, Akin stands tall, his obsidian wings sharp and sleek, the wind tugging at his tunic as his eyes sweep the battlefield like a soldier gauging his next strike. To my right, River’s wings are the color of deep, angry storms. They shift with energy, crackling faintly as his fists curl at his sides. The fire in him burns steady now, no longer a threat but a force I can trust.

“Impossible-” Wings of fire unfurled from Freya’s back, vast and radiant, their feathers forged from golden embers. Her hair streamed upward in currents of molten sunlight. Her eyes burned, not mortal, not borrowed, but as twin cores of dawn. Every line of her body blazed with raw sovereignty, not given, not inherited, claimed. Freya lifted the Sword, her voice rising steady and final above the storm. It was not a scream. It was a vow. “This flame was never yours. It was waiting for me.”