I woke from my tortured dreams to see that the dawning of a new day had come hours ago. The sun was out and taunting me with its revealing rays.

I huddled under the covers and thought about what a wreck the curse had reduced me to the previous night. It made me appreciate the fact that Serge had surely been staying within our radius this entire time.

His life had surely been disrupted through his efforts to maintain my comfort levels.

I was not so selfless as to suggest that he simply go about his business while I dealt with hours of cold terror, but perhaps I could go places with him that he needed to go. My visit with Doctor Alexi had not been too bad. I could manage more moments like that, especially if people were not harassing me with intrusive questions.

I ignored the flaring of anxiety at the thought as I peeked out my window. It still looked miserable outside so I decided I could take one more day off of running.

I got ready, pulled on clothes and a sweater and ventured out of my room.

I walked down the hall and to my surprise the prickles on my neck told me he was there. I glanced almost towards him. He was sitting at the island counter with a cup of coffee and a pile of papers.

"Good morning," he said. He sounded reluctant.

"G-good morning," I responded. He seemed like he was going to get up, but I spoke again, "I-I can g-get my own br-breakfast."

The shivers running through me were my reward for my forwardness.

His response was slow. "If you're sure."

I nodded, hoping he was looking. I understood he had accepted my decision when I heard him flipping a piece of paper.

I went into the kitchen and began the painstaking task of finding cereal. I was surprised when he did not interfere, but perhaps I should not have been. He seemed to treat my word as law.

The curse did not like that stray thought. Terrified shivers seized me so harshly that I dropped my spoon.

The clatter was loud in the quiet house. I scrambled to pick it up again. My heart beat frantically as I grasped the metal handle and scooped it up.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded harder than I needed to. I was perfectly fine. Perfectly so. The curse rolled over me again.

Still, I managed to get my breakfast without further incident.

After I sat and ate my sawdust flavoured cereal, I broached the subject through my constricted throat. "S-So, um," I began.

It was a great, confident start. The curse seized me for my sass. You would think I would learn, but sometimes my frustration just floated out in witty bubbles.

From the corner of my eye I saw Serge look towards me. "Are you wondering where Karen is?" he asked. "I gave her the morning off to see to her children."

I shook my head.

"Do you want me to leave the room?" he offered.

I shook more emphatically.

"Then?"

Now that I had the invitation, the curse released me just a hair to answer. "I w-was thinking that y-y-you've been st-stuck here because of m-me..."

"Don't worry about that, Elise. Everything I need is being brought to me, it's not a problem."

"B-but... Aren't y-y-you sick of b-being in this pl-place all the time?" I dared to ask.

"I'm fine."

He really was not helping me out at all with his longsuffering martyr thing. The curse was not amused with my silent critique and I tried not to let him see my shaking.

I sighed. "N-n-no, I'm saying if y-y-you go n-need to go somewhere I-I c-could go too."

He paused. "Actually, that's a good idea. You can come along with me this afternoon."

* * * * * * * * *

While it had been my idea, or perhaps even because it had been my idea, the magic of the curse was particularly attentive to my punishments for the rest of the morning. I tried to go through my routine, but I had trouble not just crawling under the covers and hiding from life in the shadows of my blankets.

Doctor Fischer stopped by shortly after lunch and checked my neck and inquired about my wellbeing. I told him the truth that the medication I was taking seemed ineffective against the magic. He urged me to try a bit longer with a slightly higher dose and I could not disagree.

Karen came over around the time Doctor Fischer left.

I managed a smile. "I-I met M-Macy," I told her after she greeted me.

"I heard," she said. "Were you more comfortable with her than you are with adult members of our pack?"

"I think so."

"I hoped that would be the case. I've got a regular pack human for you to meet, one day soon."

I tried to force a smile at the idea while the curse raged on.

* * * * * * * * *

Finally, the time came to leave. I pulled on my boots and my spring jacket and waited obediently by the door. I wanted to know where we were going, but since Serge did not seem inclined to tell me the curse did not seem inclined to let me ask.

It was not until we were in the truck for well over twenty minutes that I had the presence of mind to really watch where we were going. After a few moments I realized that we were on one of the roads to one of the other two territories, although in truth both looked almost the same, gravel lined with trees. I glanced at the sky and realized we were heading west, so...

"W-we're going to m-my old pack?" I asked before the curse could interfere with my ability to ask.

"We are. I've got business there."

I was more confused than ever, but my shivers overcame my capacity to question him further. Instead, I watched in silence as he drove me into my community. I was rather surprised that we did not head directly towards my father's house but rather went in the direction of the school.

I watched as the nondescript building where I had spent kindergarten to grade twelve learning the regular public school curriculum with a slight werewolf twist passed me by.

Neither did we stop at the general store, nor at Kim's cute little coffee house.

Then I figured out where we were going, but I could not imagine what business Serge might have there. I glanced as close as I could towards him, but the blurry view from my side vision told me nothing of interest.

My suspicions were confirmed a moment later when we pulled into the driveway of a very familiar house with eight vehicles already in the driveway.

"Are w-we...?" I began.

"You are," he confirmed. "Go on in."

I was frankly shocked.

"Go on," he prodded.

With my trembling right hand, I fumbled for the door handle and pushed the door open, letting the cool spring air in and myself out. I stepped down.

"Just a sec," Serge said.

I obediently waited to see what he wanted from me.

He pulled something out of the back of the truck. "Here," he said, shoving a box into my hands. I grasped it carefully. I wanted to ask him what it was.

"Karen made them for you to take," he explained without really answering my silent question. "Stay for at least an hour."

I started walking and then faltered after a couple of steps. I half turned back. "Um, wh-what about y-y-you?"

"Don't worry, I brought my work."

I bit my lip, conflicted that he would be sitting outside waiting for me and the desire to do what he had told me to do.

"Go," he said again and it sounded enough like an order that it was easy to obey.

* * * * * * * * *

I knocked on the door, my mind still on Serge just sitting out in his truck waiting for me, whatever he had said. Then my thoughts were scattered by the opening of the door. Matthias' mother was revealed, wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt with her black hair hanging long and loose. I could hear the sound of boisterous conversations coming from the ground floor, probably in the kitchen. Obviously I was not their only guest.

"Elise!" she gasped.

"Hey, Missus Allen."

"Come in," she prompted. I walked into the entryway with one last glance in the truck's vague direction as the door closed behind me.

Missus Allen hugged me vigorously. "Good to see you, Elise."

The she turned towards the stairs. "Matt!" she called.

I heard him shout from somewhere upstairs, probably his bedroom. "Not right now!"

"Matt!" she yelled louder. "Matthias James Allen, get down here now!"

He did not respond, but he sauntered down the stairs a moment later.

"Yeah?"

Then he spotted me and his eyes widened.

I smiled back wryly, still clutching the box in my hands.

"You didn't tell me Elise was coming over, Matt," Missus Allen complained jokingly.

"Yeah, sorry, mom," Matthias responded absently, not bothering to correct her even though he clearly had not known about my visit any more than I had.

"Well, tell me if you kids need anything," she said, wandering off into the back of the house.

Once his mother was out of sight, Matthias broke into a huge grin. "Hey, Elise."

"Happy birthday, Matt," I said as I held the box out towards him.

"Is this for me?" he asked, looking at the plain cardboard.

I smiled. "I have no idea. K-Karen made whatever it is."

He shrugged and took the box. He lifted the top. "Take a look," he said when he realized I was hanging back.

I was not about to tell him the curse was giving me a box phobia, so I ignored my trembling and inched forward to peer inside.

There were a dozen cupcakes in neat rows. They were each decorated with a black wolf set against a yellow moon in a dark blue sky.

The confectionary creation before me made me ponder how wrong the fictional media got werewolves. Werewolves were always portrayed as incredibly tough and amazingly cool. We certainly were tough, but maybe a bit less than the overpowered monsters I had watched.

Some were pretty cool, too.

And other werewolves were so cheesy. I never saw carpenters wearing hammer shirts. Weak analogy, but as I looked at the wolf themed cupcakes Karen made for Matthias' birthday, I wondered if Karen had been serious when she had decorated them or if had been irony or a bit of an inside joke amongst our people.

The curse chewed at me for my mild critique, but I focused on Matthias instead.

He reached inside the box and grabbed one.

"Peel the wrapper," he said, holding it out to me.

I rolled my eyes. "Why don't you put the box down then peel it yourself?"

"Come on, Elise. It's my birthday."

I peeled down one edge of the stupid wrapper and raised my eyebrow at him. "Weren't you the one who said you haven't cared about your birthday since you were twelve?"

"Except the presents. Cake counts as a present. How long can you stay?" he asked and then took a bite of the cupcake. "It's good."

"A wh-while. And cake is not a present. And I'm glad you like it."

I followed Matthias up the stairs. "It is if someone else makes it and brings it to you. I didn't pay for this, ergo, present."

"It's food," I pointed out. I was beginning to think he might actually be right, but I was not going to give up just yet.

He pushed open the door to his room with his back and I followed him inside. I had seen a couple of versions of this room since he had moved in when Isaac moved out, but it had not changed at all in the few days I had been gone. It was comfortingly familiar, just like Matthias himself.

I walked into his room and sat down in a comfy chair across from his bed. He put the box of cupcakes down on his dresser and finished the one in his hand. Then he took out two more and thrust one towards me.

"I don't—"

"They're good. Have one of my present."

I rolled my eyes and took it. "Still food."

"So it's not a present when someone gives someone a box of chocolates?"

"Ugh, fine. You just beat that dead horse."

Matthias grinned. "Sounds cruel. Is that what you think of me? On my birthday?"

"Again, you sure mention it a lot for someone who doesn't care about his birthdays..."

"It's like any other day. At least until you got here. How'd you convince your leader to bring you?"

I heard the sour note to the way he said leader and cringed.

"I didn't. H-h-he just br-brought me."

"Karen must have suggested it," he commented, holding out the cupcake like it was evidence that there was no way that Serge could possibly do something nice. And maybe he was right. Maybe it had all been Karen's idea.

Either way it was nice of Serge to bring me here.