Wings Series Book Novels & Stories

From her back, a dazzling pair of angelic wings unfurled in a blaze of shimmering light, spreading wide like a divine storm. With a powerful beat, she soared down among the attackers like an avenging angel, her wings casting swift shadows over the chaos. Her eyes blazed with righteous fury as she struck, moving with a speed and grace that stunned even me. She took down one vampire with a sweeping strike of her hand, sending him crashing into the trees. Another shifter lunged, but Gwen’s wings whipped around him, knocking him off his feet like a gale. Her voice echoed like thunder as she called out, “Leave them alive, or face my wrath!”

A deep wave of helplessness hit him, feeling like he had lost control of everything. "How did this happen? How did she find out? She's never going to forgive me. Damn it! She actually wants a divorce. How could she do this to me?" Elias' voice shook with panic like never before. After what felt like forever, he called Melvin. They were, after all, in this together—the ones responsible for putting me in this condition. "Jean knows everything," Elias confessed. "Knows what?" Melvin asked, sounding clueless. Elias couldn't keep it in anymore, his voice shaky. "Jean… f-found out we're the reason she ended up in a wheelchair…"

And that was okay. Today I was helping Micah, a thirteen-year-old with a shaved head, hoodie sleeves always tugged down over their palms, and the eyes of someone who’d seen more than they should’ve. They weren’t chatty, but they liked drawing. Their sketchbook was filled with figures that resembled comic book heroes, quiet and fierce, with eyes always cast in shadow. They were hunched over a new page now, sketching a person standing in the center of swirling chaos. The figure held a long sword in both hands, the blade resting downward, tip touching the ground. Not raised. Not slashing. Just… there.

This is where the second book ends (yay). I’m ending it here because I felt that the storyline was starting to get too long for one book. This means that there’ll be a third book, but (drumroll) it’ll be part 2 of this one. But I’m calling it Mates and Temptations because The Pains of Guilt Part 2 didn’t sound catchy. And as a special little something, I added a bonus chapter after this one and a little blurb about the third book. I don’t have an exact date for when I’ll release book 3 because when it comes to my writing, I hate deadlines (they make me rush things and it affects the quality of my writing). The only reason I had one for this book is that I already had a lot of chapters ready

Everything stilled around Talia. The young woman closed the book as she repeated those final words. There's wasn't even a fraction of her brain that could process anything but an overwhelming itch that had got a hold on her entire body. Her hands twitched helplessly by her side, the urge to throw herself in Lukas arms intensifying.

Pula until he lands at the bottom of the stairs. She twirls the finger of her handing hand. It causes a whirl wind to start. It grows and she lifts it into her hands as Daragan scrambles away from her. “Check mate.” She sends the wind whirling towards him. She sends all of the power through it. She weaves it through him, breaking apart is very being. The more details sends, the more her wings begin to grow. Beautiful glowing golden wings. She forces every ounce of power through him until it cleaves his soul into a million scattered pieces. Blood and guts spray across the room as his body follows suit.

“At the end. Right before you collapsed. From your back came… I don’t even know how to describe it. Shadows that solidified. Two large, dark extensions that spread out behind you like raven wings. Black, sharp-tipped. They lasted a few seconds, then dissolved when you lost consciousness.” Wings. The word hung between us like something neither of us knew how to touch. Black wings. Raven wings. Coming out of my back. “Is that true?” I asked the voice inside. “The wings? Yes. They’re new. Pretty, right? I think they’re growing. Your Lycán’s blood feeds us well.” *Growing?* “What else is going to grow? Horns? A tail?” “Don’t be dramatic. The wings are functional. The claws are functional. Everyt

Finally something useful. “Wings are essentially a bunch of Power threads that have acquired a physical structure. The power of the seraph before the appearance of wings is great. Not everyone chooses the Path of the Warrior and turns the Force into wings. Many become magicians, healers and protectors. Warriors are subjected to special tests and theoretical knowledge training before they take their first flight. After much practice, they are thrown from a special platform on the edge of the city into a cursed gorge. During flight, the subconscious controls the Force, turning it into wings. This only happens under threat of death. Therefore, seraphim who chose the Path of the Warrior and fail

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.

Like something inside her had decided: No survivors. One Winged creature launched toward the sky, trying to flee over the roofs. Nyra followed. She rose, golden wings cutting the air like blades, and caught up in seconds. She slammed into it mid-flight. They tumbled. Nyra recovered first, always first, wings snapping open to stabilise her, and she drove the fleeing creature downward with her body like a spear. They crashed onto a roof. Tiles exploded. The Winged creature screamed. Nyra ripped its throat out. Black blood sprayed across broken tiles.