Wings Of Fire Rainwing Novels & Stories

I also appreciate honest critics as well. I promise that when I’m back, you’ll have a far more adventurous writing of Fire on Fire Book 2: ELIJAH. Thank you guys so much. Happy holidays!

I kicked off the tilted floor and launched myself through the breach. The transition was like hitting a wall of ice. My skin felt like it was boiling and freezing at the same time. The silence was absolute. I expected my chest to explode, but then the red energy in my veins took over. It surged out of my pores, wrapping around me like a second skin of liquid fire. I can breathe, I realized. It wasn't air, but the red light was feeding my blood. My wings snapped open, not gold, not black, but a deep, bloody crimson that glowed against the eternal dark of the void.

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.

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

His eyes slowly lost their light as he stared at the reddened sky which glowed with thunderous red thunderous strikes followed by an outpour of rain of blood. The red-winged angel had been reborn and the skinwalker prophesies of Asher fulfilled.

He could not help but wonder how easy it would have been had his wolf been not suppressed by the dark witch. Suddenly, from above, a swarm of Wraithwings descended, their ghostly forms merging into a tempest of shrieks that reverberated through the air like a banshee's wail. Flameheart pivoted, raising his blade to meet their assault, slicing through the air as they swooped down, their claws poised to tear him apart.

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 room was dim, lit only by the amber flicker of a streetlamp outside the window. A fan hummed weakly in the corner. Raven lay curled beneath a threadbare blanket on the couch, one arm draped over her eyes, her breath steady in sleep. The door slammed. She jolted upright, heart pounding against her ribs—confused, disoriented. Riko stood in the doorway, chest heaving, soaked in rain and rage. His jacket hit the floor like a warning. Boots stomped across the room.

Raine cried out as her knees buckled— Kael caught her. Fenris steadied her. Lucian pressed a hand to the swirling air, testing its resistance. And Raine… Raine felt something ancient unfurl inside her chest. Something with wings. Something with teeth. Something regal. Something dangerous. Her eyes snapped open. They glowed. Not gold. Not silver. Not Alpha-red. But something far older. A shimmering pale light that looked almost like moonfire. Fenris inhaled sharply. “Raine…”

Declan was taking cover, returning fire, shouting orders to my men. And then something crashed through the ceiling. A figure in black dropped through the ventilation grate like an avenging angel. Cat. It was Cat, and she was moving like pure violence—graceful, deadly, efficient. She fired two more darts from her gun, and two more men went down. She'd barely touched the ground before she was moving toward me, pulling me up from the chair. "We have to go," she said urgently. "Cat—" "No time. Come on."