روايات وقصص ضمن Wings Of Fire Graphic Novel: Book 1

My body started to burn. I pleaded again for whomever it was, to stop. “I can’t..breath..who are..you?” I said in between breaths as he laid against my back, pressing the length of his body into me. “Emm..shhhh..soon..soon my little dove. Your lovely..wings..will be clipped..ahh..” He sat up behind me, keeping the rhythm of the flickering flames against the wall.

Something seemed to be screaming in my mind that I should stay away from the woman in front of me now. Time seemed to slow down when I saw the slow growth of black wings on his back. His blood splattered and I felt his blood hit me too from his wing. His blood spread on the water and the others were coming towards me. I wanted to back off because I didn't want to touch his blood, especially since I was afraid of his state. My soul almost shuddered when the woman suddenly rushed towards me with long fangs and a terrifying face.

They tumble back on the floor with Aria's bare back against the cold tiles but she didn't care as flames of fire was erupting through every fiber of her being, rendering her immovable as she continued to squirmed and moan beneath him. Aria senses were hypnotized by his bare chest that shone with glimmers of sweat with a mixture of his manly aroma that has a faint hint of olive. His mouth taste like a freshly brewed coffee. Warm and bitter sweet as Aria found herself reaching for more. Aria could feel his groin grinding against her thighs,reminding her of his needs to bury himself within her contrasting walls as her own buds could only remind her of a deep craving within her soul. She wanted

"I would never let you die." Hope whispered to me. Then she let go of me and stood beside me with a corner smile, confident, she made a simple motion with her hand and that reddish shape spread further, like wings, but not just any wings, they were Dragon wings. As the wings passed through the shadows and places a bluish flame appeared and began to burn everything that wasn't solid. I could tell the shadows were writhing and screaming, they were screams of agony as they were consumed, the runes of protection disappeared and the magic that was in the place dissipated, but these flames didn't hit us, it was as if the people who were with me were immune to them.

Every other time one of her past selves had died Lawrence s release from the flames and into the Announcer had been simultaneous. Something was different; something that was making her see things that couldnt possibly be real. Wings on fire. Daniel! she cried out. What looked like Daniels wings soared through waves of flames, catching fire but not smoldering, as if they were made of fire. All she could make out were white wings and violet eyes. Daniel? The fire rolled across the darkness like a giant wave across an ocean. It crashed onto an invisible shore and washed furiously over Lawrence , rushing up her body, over her head, and far behind her.

His presence was steady, unyielding, even as his voice cracked with urgency. “Don’t let it take you, Xenia! Stay with me!” The Architect only watched, hands folded inside their dark sleeves, their hood angled as if this was all… entertainment. My anger burned hotter than my flames. “You think this is a game?” I roared. I got a response from the fire. After stretching and twisting, it took the form of wings extending from my shoulders and a flurry of sparks encircling me. The wolves stumbled, hissing where my wings touched their smoky bodies.

You cannot… It didn’t finish, because the fire moved from us. The white blaze poured outward, sculpting itself into form. Wings, yes, but not of flame alone. They carried weight, shape, bone made of light, feathers cut from fire. They unfurled behind us, vast enough to brush the hollow walls, each beat scattering roots like brittle twigs. The girl gasped, her voice a ragged prayer. “Saints… you’re… ” But she couldn’t name it, neither could I.

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.

The scale of him forced the eye to adjust, to recalibrate what counted as a threat, what counted as a weapon. His wings unfurled behind him. Not in a single, theatrical sweep, but in a measured expansion that claimed the space as its own, the membranes stretching outward in layered arcs, catching the rising heat and bending it to his will. The edges burned in deep, smouldering crimson, not bright but dense, like coals banked beneath ancient ash, pulsing in time with the fire beneath his skin. Drifting ash caught along their span, then burned away in curling wisps, leaving no mark. These were not the wings of any bird. They were banners torn from an infernal altar and set ablaze. That fire wa

Mane had just employed one of those many moves: Exploding Wings. Mane’s mumble was the trigger for the huge fiery wings that grew on his back. The wings were several dozens of meters long and several meters wide. When they appeared on Mane’s back they rose high into the sky, and flapped rapidly. Yet their beating didn’t lift Mane up or take him into the sky. With the beating of those wings, the cry of a Phoenix filled the ears of all who were here, and several large flames descended upon the retreating goblins, burning them all to a crisp. The fire was stronger, completely eliminating the goblins in less than a second.