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It had taken weeks to track her down. The new semester at Nevermore was fast approaching. Canada had started to feel chilly — the temperature dropping, leaves turning, the forest growing colder and damp at night.
But Wednesday didn’t care.
None of that mattered.
All that mattered was finding her.
Tyler and his bullshit Hyde-family drama would have to wait.
Enid.
Once again, she had sacrificed herself to save her. Without so much as a second thought — as Agnes had informed her.
She had finally managed to track her. The traces left behind weren’t animal.
They were something else.
They were the tracks of a beast.
Of an Alpha.
Enid was an Alpha now. She would grow stronger. She would start a pack, a new family, a new chapter in her life. She would—
She would do all of these things.
Because Wednesday would help her change. She would help her find herself again, no matter the sacrifice.
They had set up camp near a small valley, and it was deep into the night when they heard it.
A growl. Deep. Authoritative.
Wednesday immediately perked up, rising from her sleeping bag and heading toward the noise.
“Enid?”
She peered into the dark bushes, trying to make out the silhouette lurking just beyond the moonlight’s reach.
“Easy there, kid. Stay back. We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Uncle Fester warned, reaching for the shotgun he had packed — as always. Thing hovered a few meters behind, twitchy and uncertain.
“We saw the trails, Uncle. It has to be her. She’s just afraid to approach us,” Wednesday said, her voice carrying that same cold finality.
“Enid, it’s me. Please come out. We won’t leave without y—”
She heard it before she saw it.
A large beast. Its fur wasn’t silver, like that of her favorite wolf.
It was black. Black as the heart of night, except for two eyes glowing like fireflies in the darkness.
A bear.
A big one.
The animal emerged from the bushes with a guttural growl, and in an instant, its massive clawed paw struck out — flinging Wednesday against the trunk of a tree.
She gasped, clutching her side. Thankfully, her heavy coat had stopped the deadly claws from tearing into her flesh.
She looked up.
The bear was on her uncle now, who had tripped and flung his shotgun aside.
Wednesday reached for the knife strapped to her thigh.
“Hey! Beast! Over here — come on!”
She needed to buy her uncle time to get to the gun.
The bear was fast, though.
It launched forward and suddenly stood towering above her — risen on its hind legs, ready to snap her in half with its weight—
She came running — wild and fast — and jumped from behind.
Wednesday didn’t even have time to see her, didn’t even manage to turn around, as the figure soared right above her.
It was her.
Enid.
She looked… different.
Her muscles were larger. Her form, more beastly. More adapted to the wilderness.
She lunged at the bear, slamming the creature to the ground.
Then there was nothing but the clashing of teeth and claws, growls and shrieks of agony echoing through the trees.
Enid bit the bear directly on the jugular vein.
She knew exactly what she was doing — which meant she had done this before.
The realization sent a small shiver down Wednesday’s spine.
The bear, now heavily bleeding, staggered to its feet. Trembling, it retreated into the darkness.
Enid huffed in the direction it had gone, clearly satisfied, her head held high — proud, dominant.
Then she turned to Wednesday.
The raven-haired girl didn’t waste a second.
“Enid, it’s me. I came to find you. I told you I would hunt you down — remember?”
The wolf looked at her, and immediately pulled back, as if afraid that any wrong move might hurt the girl in front of her.
“Careful now, niece…” Fester warned from behind.
“It’s alright, Uncle. She already saved me. She’s not a threat. I’m certain of it.”
Wednesday stepped closer, reaching out toward her.
“Somehow, you always end up exactly where I need you. Finding me. Saving me,” she whispered — more to herself than to Enid.
“But this is how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? You told me back at Nevermore.
I didn’t understand then… but I do now. I’m your pack, Enid. Now and always.”
She kept moving forward, until her hand gently touched the werewolf’s furred cheek.
She was warm, as she always was. Wednesday could feel her hot breath against her palm.
Enid didn’t move.
She stood completely still — frozen — as if holding her breath.
Her eyes had softened. Her ears pulled back in quiet submission.
“I found you,” Wednesday said softly.
“And now you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
With me.
I am your pack, Enid. And I need my Alpha.
Please come back.
Come back to me.”
She wrapped her arms around the wolf’s thick neck, pressing her weight forward — not feeling afraid, not even for a moment.
Her face sank into the fur, breathing in the scent of forest and wilderness — the untamed spirit of the wolf.
Enid nuzzled her neck gently, sniffing, taking in the familiar scent of her friend, of her….
Mate.
Suddenly pulled back, as if struck by lightning.
It was a full moon tonight.
Enid stumbled back, her breath quickening.
And then, in a matter of seconds, she was on two feet —
howling madly at the sky, overtaken by a force deeper than nature.
And then…
She began to shrink.
Her ears vanished. Her hands — now palms — grew smaller, claws retracting.
She collapsed onto the ground with a groan, bones cracking, fur disappearing.
She clenched her — now human — fists into the soil.
Wednesday didn’t hesitate.
She took off her heavy coat — now slightly torn from the bear’s claws — and threw it over Enid to cover her.
It was her.
Enid.
Different, but unmistakably her.
Her blonde hair was longer and disheveled, stripped of its usual colorful highlights.
Her nails were bare, the rainbow polish long gone.
Her body — what Wednesday had time to see — was covered in scars and bruises.
The body of a warrior.
“Well, what do you know,” Uncle Fester said, stepping closer.
“That’s true lo—”
Thing smacked him on the back of the head.
“Erm — friendship. I meant friendship. True friendship.”
In the meantime, Enid groaned, trying to sit up — and failed miserably.
“Ugh… Wed—” she croaked, then coughed violently, spitting into the dirt.
“Water… please… I can taste the b-blood… I’m gonna be s-sick…”
Thing moved quickly, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it over.
Wednesday opened the cap and brought it gently to Enid’s chapped, cracked lips.
“Here. Easy. Rinse your mouth.”
Enid took a shaky gulp, swished it, and spat it out, trying to rid herself of the metallic taste.
Then she looked at Wednesday.
Really looked at her.
Despite the haze in her eyes, the soreness in her limbs, and the tremble in her mouth —
a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“Howdy, roomie…” she whispered, clutching Wednesday’s coat tightly around her like a safety blanket.
The Addams family home stood like a relic from another time — a towering Gothic mansion surrounded by dead trees and crawling ivy.
The wrought-iron gates creaked mournfully in the wind, and the cracked stone pathway led through an overgrown, ghostly garden filled with carnivorous plants and neglected gravestones.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of candle wax, old wood, and something vaguely metallic. Faded portraits watched from the walls, their subjects long dead — or possibly still lurking in the basement.
And yet, to Wednesday, it was home. Familiar. A place where shadows were friends and silence was sacred.
She had insisted, of course, that they return straight to her mansion, to properly care for Enid. Uncle Fester drove without hesitation, while Enid was too exhausted to argue or suggest otherwise.
The welcome was warm—too warm for Wednesday’s taste.
Smiles, laughter, and attempted hugs that, of course, went unanswered.
While Wednesday patiently waited for the bonding ritual to end, Enid seemed delighted by the welcome—clearly unused to warm, affectionate gestures from her own miserable, pathetic family members, Wednesday thought.
“Mr. and Mrs. Addams,” Enid said in her usual bubbly tone, though tired from the trip—and, well, possibly fighting a black bear to the death—“thank you so much for having me. Wednesday insisted I stay here, but I don’t want to be a burden—”
“Nonsense, lobita,” Mr. Addams chirped. “Our home is always open to you. Stay as long as you like.”
Morticia nodded, a knowing smile on her face, making Wednesday flinch with a suspicious unease.
“He’s right, Enid. My daughter wouldn’t stop until she found you. We’re well aware how important your… friendship is to her. In fact, I have strong reasons to believe you may become her most important connection—if only she—”
“Enough with the pleasantries and baseless, unwarranted conclusions, Mother. Enid needs rest. We’ll retreat upstairs so I can tend to her weary form. Please have Lurch bring us a light dinner in my room.”
“Of course, dear. I’ll have Lurch bring dinner up. Now go—you’re right. You can’t leave your… friend standing any longer.”
Enid couldn’t remember the last time she had a real hot bubble bath, filled with essential oils and antibacterial soap.
Once Wednesday helped her sink into the water, looking away to respect her privacy, Enid almost wept with relief. The tension in her sore muscles, the scars still fresh and angry, her whole body screamed in pain.
She thought she’d never come back. That she’d remain a werewolf for the rest of her—probably short—life.
But then… she smelled her.
Wednesday.
The scent of musk, smoke, and something else—a distinct smell her heightened senses caught and never let go. The moment the raven was near, Enid sensed it. She sensed the danger, the imminent threat. Without a second thought, she ran, following the trail.
She saved her again. Fought to the death, literally.
She would do it again and again—as many times as needed.
Because Wednesday was her pack. Not just that—more.
They hadn’t spoken much on the way back. Enid dozed on and off, Thing holding her hand reassuringly throughout the trip.
It was for the best—if only Wednesday knew what caused her to shift back into her human form…
Mate.
The word bubbled relentlessly in her mind, her inner wolf persistent and harsh in its demands.
(She is yours. Claim her. She is your mate. You are meant to have her.)
Enid tried to silence the disturbing thoughts. The moment the goth girl wrapped her arms around her, her wolf had decided, making its undeniable claim.
(Please stop), she thought. (Please, please, I can’t—)
(No. This is why you are back in your human form. To take. To claim. To secure the pack. You are hers, and she is yours. Forever.)
Struggling to find coherent thoughts to silence the beast inside, Enid dove beneath the water, trying to calm the turmoil within.
Enid emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed — and deeply relieved to finally be dressed in actual, fluffy clothes: a warm jumper and a pair of soft sweatpants.
In the meantime, Wednesday had arranged what was meant to be a “light dinner,” or so Enid assumed, on a small table set with a tray in the middle of her room.
They ate in comfortable silence. Wednesday had no intention of pressing the wolf into an awkward conversation about her time spent as a full-on predator.
When they finished and Lurch arrived to clear the tray, Enid simply sat in place, glancing around the room, unsure of what to say.
(Tell her. Now. Take. Claim.)
She winced.
The pressure was building again — uncomfortable, growing with every breath.
And, naturally, Wednesday noticed.
“Are you in pain, Enid?” she asked, already reaching for a drawer. “I have a vast collection of painkillers. I can provide the appropriate medication to alleviate—”
“No! No, it’s not… that.” Enid interrupted, exhaling hard. She stood, then slowly moved to sit at the foot of Wednesday’s perfectly made, all-black bed.
Wednesday hesitated for the briefest moment, then followed, walking over and sitting beside her in her usual deliberate, calculated manner.
“I understand that this experience must have been… bewildering, to say the least,” she said carefully. “Spending so much time trapped in the body of a beast. Acting, at times, against your own human will. If you wish to share anything — memories, disturbing moments, burdens you carry — please know that I am here.
I will not judge you for who you are, Enid.
Much like you never judged me — accepting me as I am.
We’re in this together.”
Her voice remained calm, impassive as always — but her eyes told a different story. Focused. Unwavering. Holding something warm beneath the cool exterior.
That was Wednesday.
Steadfast. Loyal.
Always there.
Enid felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. Her throat tightened. An almost overwhelming urge to pull Wednesday into a hug gripped her like a vice.
(We are loyal too. Now and forever. Show her. Tell her.)
She couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Enid sighed.
She owed her the truth.
And holding it back was useless now anyway.
“Oh, Weds,” she sobbed softly, voice cracking.
“I… I have to tell you something.
It’s about my transformation.
Why it happened.”
Wednesday didn’t say a word.
She simply sat there — still, silent — waiting.
“It… it has to do with what I said,” Enid began, her voice trembling. “About you being my pack. You… you said it back to me, in the forest. And then you held me and…”
She swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest.
“My wolf— I mean, my inner werewolf — she… she chose you. Not just as pack but… as…”
She trailed off, unable to form the word.
Wednesday didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Just waited.
She would never pressure her into speaking. Enid knew that.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced across the room, her gaze catching in the mirror — the one that reflected her fading scars. Each mark, each bruise, was a reminder of how far she was willing to go for Wednesday.
Only for her.
“What I’m trying to say,” she said, voice steadier now, “is that you mean more to me than I ever realized. I would kill for you. I would die for you.
I can’t imagine my life without you. I need you.”
Her eyes were glossy now, emotions threatening to spill.
“You’re the only reason I’m willing to be reckless, to take chances. To chase after you and make sure you’re safe.
And if that means I have to become some horrid, drooling beast — cut off from the civilized world — then… so be it.
Because all I need… is to be with you.
Do you understand?”
Wednesday was silent. Listening. Completely still — eyes locked onto Enid with the same quiet intensity that always made her heart race.
Oh God.
I freaked her out, Enid thought.
Way to go, Sinclair. Next thing, you’ll be asking for belly rubs.
But then — to her absolute shock — Wednesday spoke.
“I would also kill for you.
I would also risk my life, Enid.
I need you… just as much as you need me.
The feeling is completely mutual.”
(Now. Take. Show her.)
Enid didn’t know how it happened. It felt instinctive — primal — like something deeper had taken over.
Almost possessed, she leaned forward… and kissed her.
A short, deep kiss. Raw. Real.
Wednesday gasped softly, leaning back in surprise — but didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she leaned back in… experimenting.
The moment Enid realized what she’d done, she pulled away, her eyes wide with panic.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, Wednesday— I’m so sorry— I don’t know what came over me— I-”
(You know. Mate. Yours.)
Wednesday simply looked at her. Calculating. Focused.
That’s it, Enid thought, she’s going to throw me out. I’m going back to the woods. Back to the wild. I am actual garbage—
“Say it,” Wednesday whispered, gaze sharp and unwavering.
Enid blinked. “Wh… what?”
“What am I?”
“I— I don’t understand—”
Wednesday’s voice was firmer now. Quieter, but full of intent.
“To you. What am I?”
Did she move closer?
Enid could smell her again — smoke, spice, ink, and shadow.
It was intoxicating. Maddening.
(Mine. Tell her. You are mine.)
Enid’s lips trembled.
Her throat was dry.
“M-mine.
You are… mine.”
(Yes. Ours. Mate. Forever.)
Wednesday nearly smirked — just nearly.
Then she said, calmly and clearly:
“Yours. Yes. I am.
I have been, actually — for quite some time now.
And you’re mine, Enid.
We belong to each other.
A pack… and something more.”
Enid thought she was dreaming.
She must be.
Wednesday was suddenly on her feet, her eyes never leaving Enid.
Slowly, she started unbuttoning her black cardigan, sliding it off her shoulders. Next, her hands moved to the hem of her black blouse, lifting it slowly but deliberately.
Enid’s throat went completely dry. She was under a spell—unable to look away, unable to move, her gaze fixed, her heartbeat suddenly racing.
“Wh–what are you—?”
“I’ve made up my mind. I do belong to you. As a partner… as a mate.”
Enid’s wolf stirred uncontrollably within her.
(Yes. Yes. Mate. Forever. Claim. Now.)
“And as a result,” Wednesday continued, “I have nothing to hide from you anymore. I want you to see me…”
She lifted the blouse over her head in one swift move, leaving her slim torso clad in only a simple black bra.
“…all of me,” she concluded.
They didn’t speak another word.
They didn’t have to.
Instead, they fell together—into a blind swirl of touches and kisses on Wednesday’s bed.
Enid’s senses, now fully claimed by her wolf, her desire for Wednesday overpowering all else, were guiding her. Every touch, every kiss was a promise of eternal loyalty and deep affection. She listened to Wednesday’s breath, felt her pulse, and understood exactly what she needed—and how.
Soon, they had gotten rid of all their clothing, their bodies glistening and moving together in perfect sync under the pale moonlight, crackling in from the window.
It was their first time. And it was perfect.
They reached their peak together—twice—breaths heavy, foreheads glistening with sweat.
Enid collapsed on top of Wednesday, her mind in a blissful haze, her limbs heavy and spent.
Wednesday simply caressed the scarred, toned muscles of her back in soft, slow circles, then pulled the heavy black duvet over them.
Enid took a deep breath; her face tucked into the crook of Wednesday’s neck, she could get drunk on her scent.
(Tell her. Now.)
“I love you,” Enid mumbled, powerless to resist. “I love you so much, Wednesday.”
Wednesday’s grip on her back grew firmer, tighter. She breathed in slowly, eyes closed, relaxing under her wolf’s warm, grounding weight.
“I love you too, Enid.
Now and forever.
I will always come back to you.”