Wings Of Shadows Novels & Stories

The only thing that mattered was bringing Rayne back. I materialized at the edge of the chasm, peering down into its seemingly bottomless depths. The darkness was absolute, a void that swallowed all light and hope. I extended a Wolf claw, preparing to slice my palm, when an unsettling chill crept over me, signaling the arrival of The Shadows. They emerged from every direction, and none, their dark tendrils writhing like living serpents.

The silence that followed Kaelen’s declaration was not the peaceful quiet of a battle won. It was the heavy, pressurized hush of a room where the air was being sucked out through a pinhole. The courtyard of the Blackwood Keep, once a theater of violet starlight and golden heresy, had turned into a monochrome nightmare. The black shadow-wings unfurled from Kaelen’s small shoulders were not made of feathers or fire; they were made of a light-drinking substance that seemed to smudge the very reality of the Silver Peaks.

The way it had pressed against her ribs, her throat, her very skin, like a caged thing desperate to be seen. And just once—when the wind stirred the courtyard, rattling the branches—she thought she saw it. Not in the stone. Not in the circle. But in the corner of her vision. Wings. Not a crow. Something bigger. Darker. A silhouette etched in the night sky. Waiting. Watching. Hers.

Wyatt and Beau growled, shadows pulled from the darkest corners of the room into me, and bystanders shrieked in horror. “What kind of sorcery is this?” Draven demanded his eyes darting around from his chair, the first thing he said all night. The doors of the Ballroom slammed shut, the sound of locks clicking into place as the final specters of smokey shadows came to rest around us. “My own, do you like it? This is what you all made me Dean Draven. But I think it worked out in my favor.” It was the wraith’s voice talking now, my voice was cold as ice. A chill went up my spine as the shadows congregated around us snaking up my back and over my thick scars. I refused to falter as dark wings of

Enjoying it again I got distracted. But, this is not her eye's fault. The shadows came again before hers from the window. It was far away, now, that distance is getting closer. One, two, three, four, there were even about a hundred shadows that began to take shape. They were all pure white-winged creatures. "Th-that's right, A-Angel?" Said her, barely able to come out of the lips. A winged creature appeared in her eyes. But why? What’s wrong?

he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I'm going to kill you!” she growled, trying to claw at his face. “Not today, and I'd be careful on the threats, your best friend will be next if you decide to disobey me again,” he said pushing her away. “We're always watching, now that I know how to summon you, maybe I'll punish you, there for a while,” he said before disappearing. Abey looked down at her Grandfather. The Chief wandered close by. “This is a bad omen, you must leave. You are plagued by Shadows, scat, scat.” he hissed at her.

Golden arrows slowly emerged, timidly trying to chase away the shadows of the night. The great fire disc made its appearance. First, it emerged as a red line growing wider and wider until it rose victorious into the angelic blue sky, ready to stretch its arms over the whole earth. It tamed its color slightly, becoming comforting as it shyly soaked up the night frost with which you would think it was soothing its own color.

I said dropping a feather to glide downwards. A murmured growl acknowledged the hit, he apparently already knew. That growl gave me goose bumps. I watched in relief as he walked over by the door to grab the discarded pie bag and spilt coffee cup. Coffee had leaked out and made little tree root designs along the floor. I felt bad about that but he started it. Standing up he looked at me where I was perched. "Well, you are definitely not an Angel, not with those dirty wings, but, you're not simple, I'll give you that." The dig on my wings stung, they weren't the pretty ethereal white of an Angels but resembled melted cookies and cream ice cream.

The water beckons, promising coolness and escape, and she finds herself eager to push off from shore despite the preparations still ahead. A seagull descends from the bright blue sky, its wings spread wide as it hovers just above the water's surface. The bird soars gracefully, nearly grazing the gentle waves below. Melody watches, momentarily forgetting her discomfort as the seagull's reflection ripples across the bay. There's something hypnotic about the creature's effortless movement, a freedom she finds herself envying. She wishes she could feel that unencumbered, that light—unburdened by the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders.

The baton connected with the back of my neck, hard and final. Pain exploded through me, fast and blinding. My body gave in instantly, strength draining out like it was never mine to begin with. My knees buckled. The wall slipped away. Voices turned distant. Blurred. And just like that... Darkness took over.