Wings Of Fire Rainwing Novels & Stories

Blood sprayed across the underbrush. Ryker shifted late—too cocky, too slow. But he fought dirty. A swipe caught Link across the ribs. I screamed. And something inside me broke. The mark on my hand blazed. Fire erupted from my skin. Real fire. It curled around my arms like armor, danced down my spine, and poured from my mouth in a guttural scream that shattered the air. The wolves stopped. Even Ryker froze. I stepped between them, flames dancing in my eyes.

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.

I can see the faint outline of what looks like wings spread behind her. Wings of fire that seem to take the shape of a heart… A piercing scream rips through the air as her power increases tenfold and surges into the sky, emanating in waves around her. I see the swirls of the flames behind her move before I see a tiny part of her left wing snap and shrivel into embers of ash. It’s too blinding to look at, and I’m forced to avert my gaze.

He would stand out against the sky, he knew, a black-winged form too big for a bird, and too small for anything else other than what he was – a winged man. From above, it began to rain, and he looked up in alarm, searching the sky for Ember’s bright wings. Would the rain douse the flames that kept her aloft? No. No, he realized, she was the source of the rain, the heat of her flight warming water molecules in the air and causing the cloudless shower.

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.

I didn’t want to pull on my wings because I really liked the hoodie I was wearing, and my wings would make mincemeat of it. I caught her eyes and all I could see was anger and hatred boiling in them. I pushed with my aura so hard my hands felt like fire against her arms. She started making a sound that was close to pain and then suddenly Cash pulled us apart. I was now standing behind Cash as he faced the clawing wolf himself. “Stop it, before you get hurt!” Cash growled at her. She immediately stopped and started sobbing as she quickly rubbed the burn marks on her arms that my hands had left behind.

the third Firebirds adds and they all kept a sad face. The Firebirds are all dark green in colour, that had two horns close to their eyes, they had a little brightly coloured red strand of hair in front of their forehead. Their wings were vast and has stripes of green and yellow, huge claws on their toes, a bright red coloured throat cause they were meant to spit out fire. "Oh Brathon, may your gentle soul rest in peace," the first firebird said and lowered his left wing on the ground. The rest of the Firebirds did the same.

Soaring beside the terrifying dragon was a winged figure of such staggering majesty and grandeur that would make one’s soul tremble in awe. This was no mere beast or entity - this was an elemental force of nature imbued with a searing, blazing radiance that eclipsed the fiercest wildfires. The figure's wings were an impossible, burning crimson that seemed to blaze with an internal luminescence as if forged from the heart of a supernova itself. Each immense wing spanned farther than eyes could track, their leading edges glowing hot like the birth of a newborn star. They beat in slow, inexorable downstrokes that stirred the very air into frenzied cyclones.

"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.

I hadn’t understood what she meant until now. Maybe she knew. Maybe the fire was never meant to destroy me. The moon slides out from behind the clouds. For a second, the ashes around me glow faintly, stirred by a soft gust. They spiral upward, forming the faint outline of wings. Phoenix wings. I blink, and they’re gone. The world feels too still. Too empty. No guards. No scent of wolves. They must have thought there was nothing left to find. No one survives a fire like that. I crawled towards the river. The reflection that greets me isn’t mine.