“Are you going to tell them?”
“Why not?”
Mary wiggle her fingers at the infant looking over its mother’s shoulder. Holding a finger to her lips when the baby’s eyes widened in fright. The wink received was enough for her to know the infant meant no harm.
“Shhh,” Mary turned to her sister. “It’ll be fine. No harm, they have an infant and the infant has a home.”
Hands on hips, Anastan glared at her sister, leaning down to whisper shout, “But that is a 400-year-old dragon!”
The sisters paused when they felt a large hand on each of their shoulders, “And neither of you lovely dears will tell my wife.” The large man, similar in looks to the women, for he was their brother, walked between them to pluck the infant in question from his wife’s arms. Kissing the little one and then his wife before turning to the other guests scattered around the living room.
“Well I never!” proceeded Anastan’s flounce into the kitchen.
Mary merely raised an eyebrow at the hatch-ling now toothily looking at her over her brother’s shoulder. You are going to be a handful. It was the eyes widening and the rearing back in shock that let her know a handful and gifted. The imp. Thankfully, the family, minus a few unaware, would, should… might be able to handle a dragon? Raise a dragon?


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