Chapter Six: Wings of Fire
The sky was still dark when Ember awoke, the faintest hint of dawn just beginning to edge over the horizon. The cold air clung to her skin as she lay in their makeshift camp, the fire reduced to glowing embers. Ash slept soundly nearby, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his body finally at rest after the battle with the wolves.
But Ember's mind was restless.
The danger was too close—she could feel it in the way the air pulsed, the way the trees seemed to whisper of approaching shadows. They had escaped the first wave, but the wolves would come again, and this time they would bring more. She couldn't just sit and wait for the inevitable.
Ember slipped quietly from her bedroll, moving with the practiced grace of someone who had learned to live in silence. She glanced at Ash once, reassuring herself that he was safe, before stepping out of the clearing and into the dense forest beyond. The moon was still high, casting silver light through the branches, illuminating her path as she walked.
She hadn't shifted in days. The need to do so burned in her bones, like an itch she couldn't quite reach. Now, with the threat of the wolves hanging over them, it was time.
Once she was far enough from camp, Ember stopped and let out a slow, measured breath. The familiar heat began to build beneath her skin, her pulse quickening as the fire within her stirred. She closed her eyes, allowing the flames to surge through her body, consuming her from the inside out.
Her shift was fast, a blur of light and heat as her human form melted away, replaced by something far more powerful. Wings sprouted from her back, long and graceful, their feathers shimmering with iridescent flames that crackled softly in the stillness of the forest. Her arms stretched into slender, glowing limbs, her fingers morphing into sharp talons that gleamed like molten gold.
Her body grew lighter, taller, until she stood fully transformed into her phoenix form—a creature of fire and light, blazing against the darkness. Ember's entire body was covered in plumage that burned with a soft, golden glow, each feather outlined in flames that danced and flickered in the night air. Her wings, wide and majestic, spanned far enough to blot out the stars above, each beat sending ripples of warmth through the cold forest.
Her eyes—once human—now glowed with the same fiery intensity as her flames, twin orbs of molten amber that could pierce the deepest shadows. Her beak was sharp and curved, a weapon honed by centuries of survival, and her talons were strong enough to rend through flesh and bone with a single strike.
Ember flexed her wings, the flames flickering brighter as she tested the air. The shift was complete, and now she felt it—the power thrumming beneath her feathers, the raw, untamed force of fire that lived within her. It had been too long since she'd flown, since she'd let herself become what she truly was.
She took a deep breath, feeling the heat of the flames wrap around her like a second skin. And then, with a single powerful beat of her wings, she lifted off the ground, soaring into the night sky.
The wind rushed past her, cool and sharp against the heat of her flames. Ember soared higher, cutting through the darkness like a streak of fire, her glowing form leaving trails of light in her wake. The world fell away beneath her, the forest shrinking into a patchwork of shadows as she flew higher and higher, her wings slicing through the cool night air.
Up here, in the vast expanse of the sky, she felt free. For a moment, the weight of her endless rebirths, of her constant running, disappeared, replaced by the simple joy of flight. Her wings carried her effortlessly, each movement graceful and powerful, as if the sky itself bent to her will.
