Chapter Six

A/N: Blah blah blah, do your thing, FanFic readers, R&R and I'll try to get a new chapter out this week!

Iggy's P.O.V.

Now normally when you walk in on a human who was never experimented on, lived in dog cages, and was injected with bird DNA discovering they have wings, you would gasp and say something around the lines of "Holy crap! You have wings!"Or if you are a normal teenaged guy, you kind of have a mini-hormonal freakout because you saw a hot girl shirtless. But I am blind. So those scenarios didn't exactly happen.

I walked down the hallway, approaching what I now knew to be Ella's room. I had visited Nudge, but with what they had told me, even though they had just removed it and told me she was going to be fine, I couldn't even stand to be in the area; I knew it was my fault.

As I neared Ella's door, I could hear her breathing: it was fast, and uneven. I cocked my head to hear better, and was about to step into her room when I heard the sharp intake of breath and then a solid thump as what I guessed was Ella fell to the ground. I flew – not literally – through the doorframe and crouched down, reaching on the ground until I felt Ella's face, her lips, her hair, and thankmotherfreakinggod, her now steady breathing. She was alive, but she had fainted. I couldn't smell the sickly-sweet aroma of blood, and when I traced my fingers lightly up the front of her body – Oh my god, boobs – I realized she had no surface injuries. But when I carefully turned her around, my hand brushed past something on her thin back. My entire body froze, adrenaline pumping through my veins. When I checked again, I couldn't do anything but hoarsely cry out for my Flock, because I was too busy crying over Ella's two perfect, small, wings.

Max's P.O.V.

Despite the fact that I cannot clean, play hostess, and you will sure as heck never see me in an apron, I am very motherly. In a not motherly way. Badass maternal? Whatever.

Whenever I may think any of my Flock is in danger, its bah-bah-bah-BAAAHH, Max to the rescue. So when I hear Iggy's small yell from Ella's room, my head whipped around and I took off towards him. I was expecting Erasers, Iggy suddenly regaining his sight, anything then what I actually saw when I skidded into the room, my fists already pre-clenched for a fight.

Iggy, crying over Ella's body. Ella, whose back was now raised with the outline of soft, grey, feathers arranged into small, immaculately carved arch-angel wings, pressed into her alabaster back, between her ridged spine.

I stared; I couldn't think of anything to say. Oh wait, just kidding, I could.

"Holy crap, you have wings!"

Exactly.