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Gabriel walked back to his desk, picking up the bottle of red wine from the bottom corner of his bookcase. He held onto the bottle staring at it as Aila and her wolf's words still floated through his mind. His wolf would despise Aila's vampire side; it went against a werewolf's instinct. Gabriel knew the origins of werewolves were due to him and his kind; if he and Cassius never arrived on earth, then there would be no werewolves.

He placed the corkscrew on top of the wine and began undoing it, his back still to his desk. This wine had been saved for one person in mind for centuries. He poured it into two wine glasses, sliding one of them along the other end of his desk.

"Are you satisfied now?" Gabriel spoke to the other vampire in the room as he re-corked the bottle.

"Hmmm, Chateau Lafite 1787. Are you trying to butter me up, brother?"