Page 94 of Savage Illusions

Jolena ga­zed up at him in won­der, then la­ug­hed hap­pily as he swung her up in­to his arms and car­ri­ed her the rest of the way to the vil­la­ge.

Behind them, on a tree limb, the dre­aded nympha­lid, the but­terfly that por­ten­ded de­ath, flew out of its pu­pa, drop­ping its red li­qu­id that re­sem­b­led blo­od from the air. The nympha­lid flut­te­red abo­ut, trying its new wings.

Then it flew away, high abo­ve the hills, away from the Blac­k­fo­ot vil­la­ge.

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