Wings Of The Last

Wings Of The Last

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación mié, mar 13, 2019
Aaron has been asleep in ice for 243 years. His Wings are the last of their kind.
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#341
si-fi
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Flames had followed Erin his entire life. It began with the grisly housefire that consumed his father. Henri Maye had been Erin's entire world and in an instant, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Nothing left but ash and char and cloying black smoke. But Henri Maye hadn't just been any man. He wasn't just a doting father and loving husband. He was a well-renowned researcher into creatures beyond human DNA. One box of research survived the fire, placed conveniently outside the door as though it had been plucked from the devastation just for Erin. Within that box, one name repeated over and over. Ross Towler. And so the flames never abated. Ross Towler was infamous, a Shadow, a hellhound, and a convict locked away in the life imprisonment that had begun over three hundred years ago. Henri had interviewed Ross. He had known him. That was all Erin needed, just that one box. He vowed to continue his father's work, enrolling in college to study a degree in Supernatural History and Lore. That was where the obsession began. Erin wasn't his father. He couldn't distance himself, he wasn't interested in all forms of life beyond his own. There was one man he desired, one man he wished to study more than anyone else. It didn't matter. Ross was serving a life sentence, and he refused to see Erin no matter how much the boy tried to make contact. That should have been the end. That should have been where the embers fell...

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