(Sorry, guys. There is a glitch with wattpad that isn't allowing me to upload photos. Once the glitch is resolved, this message will be replaced with some fancy artwork ❤️)

M o r g a n

"Absolutely not," I told Erik, pushing myself off the bed.

Erik grabbed my wrist and yanked me back down on the mattress with a growl.

"She's eating rotting flesh, Morgan. Do you really want her hanging around Charlie or India?" He demanded.

"No," I admitted reluctantly.

Poppy was a threat, but she was also family. I couldn't let Erik kill her, even if she was a cat-eating zombie.

Erik sensed my unease and gently placed his hand on my back.

"I don't enjoy this, Morgan. I was hoping to be wrong about Poppy, but we must be honest. She's a danger to everyone in the village. Tonight, she ate a cat. God knows what she might try to eat tomorrow," he said.

I leaned into his touch, needing the reassurance of my mate. I didn't like what he was suggesting, but something about his touch calmed my nerves.

"Okay, Poppy can't be around people. But that doesn't mean we must destroy her," I said rationally.

Erik suppressed a groan.

Did he think that I was going to give up so easily?

"Killing Poppy is out of the question. She's my family," I said, shooting Erik a deathly stare.

"She's not your family, Morgan. I'm your mate. I'm your family. We don't belong here. This village is not our home, and these peasants are not our people," Erik said, making no effort to hide the disdain in his voice.

I pulled away from him, unable to hide my annoyance. Apparently, he didn't really care about this village or its people. He pretended to care about them because he was their King, but I could tell he resented them.

"Erik, this village is all I know. I don't have any memories other than the memories I made here. I can't pretend that the last four years of my life didn't happen. India, Charlie, and Poppy are my family," I replied.

Erik's eyes darkened, and his hand dropped from my spine. He fell back against the pillows with a huff and stared at the ceiling.

"I know you don't like them," I said, talking about the villagers, "But they are good people."

"They are descendants of weak-willed cowards," Erik scoffed.

"That's not fair. They were ordinary people fleeing war," I reasoned.

"A war that you started."

I flinched at his words like a knife stabbing at me.

I rose unsteadily to my feet. What could I say? How could I defend myself from an accusation I had no memory of?

Erik's eyes softened with regret. He could tell his words hurt me.

"Morgan, I'm sorry. You're not the same person. It was unfair of me to blame you," he said, catching my wrist and pressing a kiss against my knuckles.

I stared down at him and withdrew my hand. Anger simmered on a low heat inside me.

"I suppose you plan on throwing that fact in my face every time we argue," I said dryly.

"Morgan, let's not argue. We are mates. I'm willing to make compromises for you. Let's talk about this," he said sweetly.

"I don't feel like talking to you right now," I replied.

Erik straightened up, watching me slip on my shoes. He dragged his hand over his face and sighed, "Morgan, let's not end this conversation as enemies. I don't want you to be mad at me."

"It's a bit too late for that now," I replied.

"Come on. You can't seriously put those peasants infant of me?" He said, jumping off the bed.

"Those peasants are my family," I replied, trying to move past him.

Erik blocked the door, stopping me from exiting. He folded his hands across his chest and stared at me.

"Morgan, I have placed you above my friends, family, and crown. I have done everything in my power to ensure we stay together. I won't allow a peasant girl to get in the way of our happiness," he said.

"Poppy isn't the problem," I said, heading over to the window and undoing the latch. "It's your stinking attitude."

I yanked open the window and climbed onto the kitchen roof before Erik could stop me. I slammed the window in his face.

He mouthed a few curse words and scrambled about my bedroom floor, picking up his clothes.

I flipped him the middle finger and carefully edged my way across the roof, then lowered myself onto the dumpster lid.

My blood was boiling, but I also felt slightly sick. I hated not remembering who I was before the accident. I couldn't help thinking that I must have been some terrible monster.

I entered the kitchen and found India pacing the floor, wringing her hands.

"Where's Poppy?" I asked.

"In her room," India replied, then hesitated for a second, "She said that she's hungry."

"Hungry for what?"

"I don't know. I've been trying to feed her all day, and then she goes and eats poor Tibbins,"

"At least the cat was already dead," I sighed.

India shook her head, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"What are we going to do? Poppy is a zombie. We have to find a way to cure her. We can't let her carry on like this," India wept.

"We'll figure something out. I'll find a way to fix this," I said, sounding like the confident big sister.

I headed upstairs and knocked on Poppy's door. From inside the room was a feeble 'come in'. I opened the door and found Poppy sitting still on the edge of her bed. There was a strange rotting smell in the air, which I assumed was from the dead cat Poppy had munched on.

"Is India okay?" Poppy asked.

"She's worried about you," I said, sitting beside her.

"I took a bite out of Tibbins," she confessed.

I dragged my hand through my hair and took in a deep breath.

"I never thought I would ever have to ask you this, but why did you eat the cat?"

Poppy shrugged her shoulders.

"I was hungry."

"You were hungry? For cat?"

For the first time, Poppy expressed some emotion. Her eyes misted over, and she dabbed the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

"I didn't want to eat the cat. I'd been hungry all day, but not for cookies or cake. I was craving meat—flesh, skin, hair, blood. I wanted to eat it so bad. I kept looking at India and wondering what her shoulder would taste like. I was so scared that I was going to hurt her. I went out to empty the rubbish, and that's when I caught the scent of death. It was disgusting, but I didn't want to eat my sister. I'm so scared, Morgan," Poppy cried.

I grabbed Poppy and hugged her tightly.

"We are going to get through this. I'm going to make this right," I told her, smoothing the hair from her face.

Inside my mind, I turned to the little blue flame.

'How do we fix this?'

'I'm not sure. In this world, living things sicken and die. Poppy is the first creature who has been denied death.'

'But you knew she was a danger,' I replied.

'Yes, although I don't remember how. They must have been others like her from where we are from.'

Our homeland. The place where I started a war that killed thousands. A chill shivered down my spine. If I wanted to help Poppy, I had to find a way back home.

"The vampires," I whispered outlaid, under my breath.

Poppy looked up at me and tilted her head.

"What did you just say?"

"The vampires said they could help you if I returned to them," I said.

Poppy shook her head.

"I'd rather die than let a vampire help me," she countered.

"We don't have a choice," I sighed. "Erik said that the vampires were the ones who experimented on dragons. They have seen this happen before."

"Yes, and all the dragons died," Poppy said.

"Only the dragons that Erik saw. What if there were survivors?" I replied.

"It seems like an awful risk," Poppy said.

It was a risk, but the truth was that staying put was also a risk. Erik wanted Poppy dead, and I couldn't bring myself to allow her to be murdered - even if it was in the village's best interest. I had to take Poppy back to our homeland and find a solution to this mess.

"Go pack a bag. Pack warm clothes and a sleeping bag. I'll hook the tent out of the garage and pack my things. Do not tell anyone what we are doing. Tomorrow morning, before first light, we will find the vampire," I told Poppy.

"You're not considering that vampire's offer? What would Erik say?"

"Erik is staying here. He can't come with us," I replied, remembering what the little blue flame had once told me.

"Why? Wouldn't it be safer for him to come with us," she asked.

I shook my head.

"He needs to stay here," I replied.

Poppy studied me briefly, trying to figure out why I didn't want Erik coming with us. I thought it was best not to tell her that I didn't want him coming with us because a little voice in my head told me so.

Poppy reluctantly nodded her head and went to pack her things.

Tomorrow everything would change. I would leave, and Erik would despise me for breaking my vow. My heart ached in my chest at the thought of leaving my mate. But at least I had one last night with him.

I head back upstairs to my room. I opened the door and found Erik in his jeans, perched on the end of the bed. He looked furious, but his face quickly softened when he saw the sadness in my eyes.

"What's wrong, my beloved flame?" He asked.

I walked across the room and kissed him hard. We had one last night together, and I wanted to make it count.