Kissed Me

That night I dreamed of the man I couldn't see again. He spoke of what it would be like to marry.

How many children he wished to have, and where we would live once we were together. He spoke of Sharra, the creatures there, and about how I drank Abby's blood.

I'd been humiliated by his words, but he kept talking anyway, explaining that what I'd done had been a survival instinct. He continued that I should be grateful I possessed such a predisposition.

Otherwise I would be dead.

I didn't want to agree, but a tiny part of my brain appreciated the support.

Most strangely, he spoke of my wings and how exquisite they were.

I hated to admit that while he talked the same part of my brain that appreciated his words also cherished them.

And just like last time, right before I woke, he took me in his arms and kissed me.

When my alarm went off, I wasn't as afraid of the man in my dream as I was the first time. I quickly got ready for school and went down to breakfast. Even though I'd drunk