Four years ago, Morgan was found half-dead near the dragon village of Thorsbury Upon Wick.
Morgan cannot remember what happened to her, but the villagers suspect she might be a dragon from their long lost ancestral homeland.
Adopted by the villager...
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M O R G A N
I woke up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding in my chest. It felt like I couldn't breathe, so I sat up in bed, feeling like I was about to die. For a brief moment in the sleepy haze, I thought my heart would explode in my chest. I imagined the twins finding me in the morning open-eyed, staring up at the ceiling, dead.
It took a few minutes for me to calm down and re-orientate myself. I focused on breathing slowly until the pounding of my heart had subsided. When I finally felt in control of myself, I lay back in bed and thought about the cause of my anxiety, that man.
It had been a few days since we had argued outside the pub. The snow had started to melt, and I'd heard nothing from him. Secretly, I had hoped this was because he had moved on, but yesterday Captain Glen had made a strange announcement on our Facebook community page. Apparently, the long-lost King of the Dragons had finally returned to his people after four hundred years.
It had taken me and Poppy a little while to join the dots and work out that our suspected devil-worshipping vagrant was the same man as Captain Glen's long-lost King.
The homeless mad man was now wandering the village with the mad captain, calling himself Erik, King of the Dragons.
Erik.
Erik, the devil worshipper.
Erik, the King of the Dragons.
Erik, my fated mate.
Erik, the man who threatened to drive me out of my village.
I honestly didn't know who Erik really was, but thankfully no one else in the village had taken King Erik's claim very seriously. In fact, the Elders had met up in the pub last night to have a good laugh about mad old Captain Glen and the satan worshipper he was trying pass off as our King.
While I had laughed along with them and pretended it was one big joke, there were two things I couldn't shake from my mind.
Firstly, on the night Eli had died, he had told me that he believed that once told me that dragons descended from the King had golden wings. Then, secondly, a golden winged dragon had been spotted flying over the fields where I was found on the night of my accident.
So was Erik really the King? And did he have something to do with the terrible injuries I had sustained that night? Or was this an elaborate lie?
Secretly, I hoped it was a lie. I wanted someone to throw a bucket of water over Erik's wings and watch the gold paint wash away from his wings to reveal a very boring normal shade of muddy brown or green. However, I couldn't help wonder what if his gold wings were real? What if he was the King?
What would happen to me when he ordered me out of the village?
Would the villagers listen to him? This village was my home. I had no where else to go. I had no money or valuables. Even my name wasn't truly mine. It had been given to me by the village when they had adopted me.
