Damon's gaze traveled along the dragon's body, taking in the enormous wings and the claws that had nearly ripped him apart a few moments earlier.
There had to be enough material here to make weapons for an entire civilization, assuming he could find anyone capable of working with it. Even a single tooth would probably have kingdoms fighting over it. Unfortunately for those kingdoms, Damon had absolutely no intention of sharing.
Blood tendrils shot out from him, spreading across the dragon's enormous body until they completely covered it. They slipped between its scales and burrowed into the wounds he had left behind, branching into countless thinner strands as they worked their way through the flesh.
Damon could feel each one extending farther from him, and he fed more power into them, unwilling to leave even a drop of blood drifting through the void.
