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Chapter Eight

Anther growled deep and low, his fangs bared dripping with the blood of his kill, eyes narrowed upon the two humans that had frozen still on the border of his meadow.

He was loathe to admit his complacency had allowed them so close—close enough that they were able to see him—and it was fear that wakened the beast that slumbered deep inside him as he rounds on the pair of them; his wings held out from his body to make himself look bigger than he was; snarling and growling in hopes that his act would intimidate them into fleeing far from here.

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