In the year that scholarly Seungwan must attend the Academy, there is an outbreak of a new species. Once surrounded by humans, elves and werewolves, will she lose even her lover to a curious thirst for blood?  

In which Wendy holds classes and Seulgi pretends she's terrible.

The faction leader's on a mission, and really didn't mean to fall for an Amity girl.

Night terrors are an awful thing.

I want to be the comfort that you can’t get from itchy nights when somewhere I know you’re up, when I know you’re up urgently clinching down your eyelids.

Seulgi had a weakness for searching for contours within the refracted shape lights gave things, and a known eye for cool, sea blues and dark, rippling cyan. She adored acrylic. She adored how a slack of it could be layered and shovelled upon anything that for artistic attention. She was lusting for its ability to mask up faults. Seungwan,

At the time when Wendy first let her intrigued self nervously analyse the gentle face of this girl – this girl with a refined, almost as if carved out of the best pine wood with the most care and love, sharp jaw, a delicate nose and wanderingly bright little eyes (eyes underneath a strip of the longest, darkest eyelashes. Glinting.) – she could say that she liked her. “Love” was a stretch, a terrifying stretch; though now, it fe