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Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

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Yes, of course she was dead. But dead, to dragons at least, has several levels.

I had forgotten about my early days. All these centuries in this place takes a toll on a person. They make you tuck things away, and neglect to see the big picture, and pretend that this day is the only day that ever mattered.

But of course, this day is the only day that ever mattered. None of the others that came before are of any consequence at all.

I rise up, my leathery, red wings spreading out until they push against the walls on either side, and I take it all in.

My beautiful Madeline and her new blood-orange body flickering with magic, and desire, and instincts.

Because, of course, underneath her new body are her eggs.

So many eggs.

They are everywhere. Filling up the space just like my wings.

And soon we will once again be everywhere too.


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