Scarred (the Spellbound Series Book 3) by Rene Lanausse

Michael flexes his back muscles, and two pure white wings, explode from between his shoulder blades. They reflect the sun’s light so well, that it almost hurts to look at them. He turns his attention back to me, and says, “You’re going to need your wings for this lesson.”
                  “Right.” I recall the image of myself with wings, and the feeling that came along with their emergence. It doesn’t take long for them to reappear, tearing through both my skin and the fabric of my shirt. I wince in pain, and ask, “Am I ever gonna get used to that?”
                  “As with all things in life, the pain becomes less noticeable,” Michael answers. “Before I teach you anything, I’ll need to see what you’re already capable of.”
                  “What do you mean?”
                  Michael places a hand on my shoulder, and without warning, teleports me to a point a few hundred feet above where I once was. For a moment, I forget that I have wings, and panic as the ground rushes up to meet me. But when I remember that I’m in control of the situation, I fold them in, and dive towards the ground. I’m a mere hundred feet above the lake when I spread my wings wide, and they swell as they slow me down, the air resistance pushing against them so hard that I’m worried they’ll snap. But I glide along the lake at a breakneck speed, making a wide turn before I wind up flying too far out of familiar territory.
                  I can see Michael waiting for me on the dock, and I risk waving at him, surprisingly maintaining a steady flight despite the motion. I realize I’m a little too close to the water’s surface, and flap my wings a few times, to no avail. Long before I reach the dock, I slip into the water, kicking wildly to keep from sinking. It takes a couple of minutes to swim back to shore, and I shake out my dripping wet wings as soon as my feet are on solid ground.
                  Michael walks over to me slowly, shaking his head and smiling. “That wasn’t bad,” he says, “but you have much to learn.”
                  “Hey, the landing wasn’t entirely my fault. I didn’t put the water there.”
                  “You flap your wings straight up and down, but that isn’t how they’re meant to move. Try an elliptical movement to increase their efficiency.”
                  “Alright, hot shot. How about you show me how it’s done?”
                  Michael vanishes, and I look up, expecting him to be right over my head. But he’s somewhere far out over the water, and like me, he starts out by diving straight towards it. But he levels out, and flies towards the shore, moving much more quickly than I was. He passes by overhead, and I watch him carefully. His wings are moving in an elliptical fashion, and they’re serving him well. He angles upward, and his powerful wings beat a few times to give him more altitude.
                  I’m somewhat envious of how well Michael moves in the air. It’s as if he were born to fly, which I suppose he technically was . I wonder if I can ever master the craft to the same degree that he has. But my wings don’t quite feel natural just yet. Michael circles back and angles towards the ground, and for a moment, I’m worried that he’ll crash into me. But he flaps his wings forward several times in rapid succession, pushing the air in front of him to slow his momentum, and he lands gracefully on his feet a few yards away.
                  I think I’ve seen all I need to see. Rather than wait for Michael to launch me into the air again, I teleport myself to a point high above the property, and immediately dive towards the ground. I wait until I’m a mere fifty feet off the ground, then pull up as I spread my wings. I allow myself as a triumphant smile as I soar over the tree tops, steadily climbing