The wolf man lay eerily still. His breathing so shallow the rise and fall of his chest was unperceivable. He appeared lifeless; a beautiful, marble skinned, silky white-blonde haired corpse. His stillness, coupled by the shield of sky blue light visible only to the young woman, unnerved her.

            Forcing the fear down, Emma reassured herself that the alpha still lived with the presence of the shield. If he were dead, the shield would have disappeared; it would never heal corpses. She approached him, comforted by the invisibility she had cloaked herself in.

            Delicately, she touched her fingertips to the gentle blue glow. The light stretched, awakening, rushing to meet her. It molded itself to her hand, a glove that fit perfectly. She welcomed the energy, feeling a surge of power. Emma glanced at the man’s sleeping face.

            She found it strange, a young, handsome complexion that appeared to be old, plagued by worries and concerns even while sleeping. Inexplicably, Emma wished to meet with him in the land of his dreams. She wanted to know what kind of place his mind was. If there was darkness in it, she wished to lift it. If there was sadness, she wished to comfort him. If there was light, she wished to bask in it. Somehow, for some reason, she wished to know. She was curious.

            The blue glow intensified suddenly, drawing her attention to the task at hand. For how long she stared at his face, Emma would never be able to remember.

            She began her work, locating the areas of the hex’s highest concentration. A condescending smile slowly spread itself across her lips. Previously, she had found the hex perplexing, morphed, but Emma now saw that it had been so due to the height and depth of her exhaustion. A scoff escaped her; she could not help the roll of her eyes.

            That girl had always been stupid, why had Emma ever expected a challenge? Foolishness or the thirst for adventure, perhaps. Whatever the case might have been, Emma now knew the extent of the wench’s so called powers.

            A stupid girl had messed with the wrong clan and become a witch. Now she had messed with the wrong pack. It all proved one thing to Emma: a stupid girl had become stupider as a witch.

*

            Donghyun emerged from a dream of evergreens, vast and ancient, unending meadows of flourishing flowers that made him sneeze, crystalline bodies of water, meandering rivers and deep lakes. The sky had been bluer than blue, gentle, filled with fat clouds that glided lazily by.

            He had never had such bright, powerful dreams before. He blinked up at his ceiling in confusion. He lay there for a moment, examining his emotions. There was a raging anger latched onto his chest, coated by a thin layer of rest and practiced calm. It had been decades since such vicious wrath had dwelled within him. Donghyun inhaled and exhaled, drawing on centuries of learned patience.

            The wrath remained, as did the bloodlust and need for revenge, but he was in control of his self. His bare feet touched the chill of stone as he swung himself out of bed. He caught a brief glimpse of his reflection in the body mirror that resided in a corner of his room; his hair lay flat on his head, devoid of any volume, he was a mess in flannel pajama bottoms and a V-necked old white tee.

            Any other day, Donghyun would have groomed himself to perfection, but he wanted to see his dongsaengs more than care for his appearance. He wanted to make sure that they were well, wanted to see them smile brightly at him when he walked in the room. Most of all, he wanted to see Hyunseong.

            He remembered seeing him, remembered him bursting through his door, alive, well, but the memory was foggy, far off. As