Chapter Text
The full moon loomed low over the cold forests of Oregon, like a silver scythe ready to reap the shadows. It was February 5th, and winter’s white was yielding to the earth, especially in Willamette State Park, which stretched just a few kilometers from the only house isolated from civilization. A perfect refuge for Enid Addams, whose still-latent lupine instincts allowed her to hunt without restraint.
Three years had passed since Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair married in a ceremony as somber as it was romantic: a stone altar beneath a partial eclipse in Transylvania, with the two of them at the center of everything. Wednesday dressed in absolute black; Enid with touches of pink that contrasted like blood on snow. Their life was a precarious balance between Wednesday’s eternal darkness and Enid’s wild vitality. Now, at twenty-six, they lived in a Victorian-style residence, surrounded by centuries-old pines that whispered secrets to the wind. A gift from the late Hester Frump to Wednesday, who spent her days writing bloody, dark novels after her main work, *Viper of Death*, launched her into a suffocating fame, while simultaneously running the Frump Funeral Home, whose workload caused her such stress that she soothed herself by listening to Prokofiev. And Enid balanced her life as editor-in-chief of *Glamour* magazine—after her dream had “gifted” her the position her predecessor lost after betting with Homer Addams in a card game—with nocturnal escapes into the forest, where she could give free rein to her wild side.
But the last few weeks had been strange. Wednesday, always stoic and with a macabre appetite, had begun to reject food. She vomited even her favorite dishes: roadkill stew or bat soup that Varicose, the housekeeper—who became Wednesday’s after her grandmother’s death—prepared with meticulous precision.
Enid watched her with concern every day, but Wednesday dismissed it with a gesture: “It’s just a passing annoyance. Nothing that can’t be cured with a dose of arsenic.” Enid didn’t insist; she knew that pressing her wife was like trying to tame a wild bear.
However, that night, when the air smelled of damp earth and the promise of rain, Enid returned from a successful hunt, dragging the carcass of a young elk along the cobbled path leading to the back door. Her blue eyes gleamed beneath the waxing moon, her lupine form still pulsing beneath human skin, an imaginary pelt bristling with adrenaline. The Willamette forest was her sanctuary, a place where she could run free, without the bonds of civilization, feeling the pulse of nature in her veins. But upon entering the kitchen, the scent of fresh blood mixed with something unexpected: a metallic, raw aroma that did not come solely from her prey.
There was her wife, kneeling on the floor as if in prayer, dressed only in a black nightgown that clung to her pale skin like a shroud. Her dark eyes, fixed on her beneath long strands of black hair falling from her bangs, gleamed with a primitive hunger. In her hands she held a piece of raw meat from a cougar that Enid had been forced to kill days earlier when it decided to attack her during a nighttime outing…
Grave mistake.
Blood dripped down her bloodstained chin, and she chewed the mouthful left between her teeth with a greedy slowness Enid had never seen in her before… well, never.
—Wednesday… —Enid murmured, with a low purr as she dragged the deer into the kitchen and closed the door. She approached cautiously, her heart pounding with a mix of confusion and instinctive excitement. —What are you doing? —Wednesday swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a red smear on her sunken cheek before speaking. At least, she still had her manners.
—Experimenting. Cooked food disgusts me lately. This… this satisfies me. —Her tone was neutral, but there was a slight tremor in her voice, a secret lurking beneath the surface.
Enid felt a knot tighten in her stomach. As the only existing alpha among the packs, and since discovering it, she had feared the consequences of her nature on Wednesday. There wasn’t much information about alphas, nor about unions like theirs: a psychic and an alpha wolf. What if that bite on that snowy night had changed something? But how? Their honeymoon had resulted in a union under the most sacred lycanthropy. With a mating bite and everything that followed. And yet, Wednesday had been fine all that time.
Could it be…?
Because of her heat?
The idea terrified her. She moved closer carefully, kneeling in front of her.
—Wednesday, this isn’t normal. Not even for you. You’ve been vomiting everything, and now… this? We need to talk about what happened during that snowstorm.
This time, Wednesday licked her lips and, with her thumb, brought a drop of blood to her tongue. She looked morbid and exquisite.
—Abnormality is my natural state, Enid. But if you insist on dramatizing…
The memory flooded Enid like a wild torrent, carrying her back to that night a month earlier, during her heat…
The sun filtered through a canopy of bare branches, its golden rays refracting over a mantle of fresh snow that covered the ground like a white sea, crunching beneath Enid’s boots with every eager step. The air smelled of frozen pine, damp earth, and the biting cold of snow, a perfume that mingled with the warm, wild scent of her own skin, intensified by the heat that burned through her veins like a forest fire. Enid had ventured into the woods to try to calm herself; her body vibrated with a lupine energy that made her feel on the brink of losing control, her instinct roaring to be released, sweat clinging beneath her thick wool coat, a deep red against the pallor of the landscape, and her faux-fur-lined scarf brushed her flushed cheeks, the rough fabric against her sensitive skin sending shivers that did nothing to ease her state. Her tight jeans, worn at the knees, hugged her slender thighs, seams straining with every step, and her black leather boots, speckled with snow, left deep impressions in the ground, marking her path like a wolf claiming its territory. Her blonde hair, loose and tousled, caught snowflakes that melted on contact with her heat; the scent of vanilla shampoo mixed with the wild smell of her heat, a perfume that hung in the air like an unconscious invitation.
Wednesday, drawn by Enid’s unrecognizable scent and ever attentive to the nuances of her wife, had decided to follow her; her steps were silent as a specter, the crunch of snow beneath her boots barely audible. She wore a long black velvet coat, its edges embroidered with silver threads that reflected the sunlight like gleaming spiderwebs, and the heavy fabric brushed her calves with a whisper that sounded like a lament. She walked following the same tracks the wolf had left; the balance of her elegant steps resembled the dance predators perform before devouring their prey. Her black braid, tied with a satin ribbon, swayed gently, brushing the velvet with a dry sound, and her dark eyes, deep as obsidian wells, watched Enid with a mix of fascination, desire, and a tenderness only she could decipher. Wednesday’s scent (fresh ink, damp earth, and a hint of withered lavender) mixed with the icy air, a contrast that made Enid, even in her agitation, turn her head; her lupine senses caught her wife’s presence like a beacon in the storm of her heat.
Enid, at the edge of a clearing where the trees would open to let in a shaft of sunlight that melted the snow in patches, stood still, meters away from her. Her ragged breathing formed clouds of vapor in the cold air, with the metallic taste of anticipation on her tongue. Her hands, gloved in cotton, clenched into fists, claws extending beneath the fabric, scraping the inside with a sensation that intensified her frustration. She felt the heat of her body like a fever, the pulse at her temples beating like an orchestral drum, her skin hypersensitive to the brush of her coat against her shoulders, the weight of denim against her hips. Wednesday, emerging among the trees like a living shadow, approached with deliberate slowness, the crunch of snow counterpoint to Enid’s racing heartbeat.
She saw her stop a few steps away, her coat fluttering slightly in the icy breeze, the scent of her presence enveloping her like an invisible caress.
—Wednesday… —Enid growled, her voice rough and charged with lupine urgency, looking straight into her eyes, her blue eyes shining with animal intensity, the heat of her breath pouring out like the steam of a locomotive at full power, dissipating between them—. You shouldn’t be here. You know it. I… I don’t have control right now. My heat… It’s too much.
With a calm that concealed the storm of desire beginning to blaze in her chest, Wednesday took another step, the coat brushing the snow with a soft whisper, her dark eyes holding Enid’s with an intensity that was at once challenge and invitation, the scent of her own arousal beginning to seep out, a sweet, dark perfume that drove Enid’s senses mad.
—I know you. —Wednesday replied, with a warmth that cut through the cold air like a heated blade. Her breath exhaled a coolness that contrasted with Enid’s heat—. There is nothing in you that frightens me. Let me help you…
—Are you sure about this? —Enid asked with a growl, her voice hoarse and her hands trembling.
Wednesday aroused, and Enid, with a deep growl that echoed through the clearing like a restrained howl, surged toward her without thinking. Her hands tore off her gloves with an urgency that revealed her loss of control, letting them fall to the ground like shed skin. She grabbed Wednesday’s coat, her strong fingers unbuttoning it with a snap, the velvet opening to reveal a black wool dress, the tight fabric brushing Wednesday’s pale skin like a second skin. With instinctive roughness, Enid yanked at the dress, ripping it at the high collar, the sound of threads tearing mingling with the crunch of snow beneath their feet, leaving Wednesday half-naked, her pale skin gleaming beneath the sun like polished marble, nipples hardened by cold and excitement visible through lace, her abdomen trembling with each breath, the scent of her skin filling Enid’s lungs.
She stopped for a moment, her eyes roaming over the pale body with chaotic reverence, the heat in her own body intensifying, saliva pooling on her lips and in her mouth like fresh blood.
—You look… —Enid choked on the weight of her hunger. Her voice, a low roar vibrating with animal passion, she tore off her jacket with a sharp movement; the wool fell onto the snow like a bloodstain, leaving her only in a tight shirt that outlined every tense muscle. The brush of fabric against sensitive skin sent shivers through her—. Delicious.
Arching beneath Enid’s gaze, Wednesday let out a soft moan, a sound that broke her usual composure. Her cold hands reached for Enid’s shirt, lifting it with a desperation that betrayed her desire, revealing Enid’s flushed skin, her abdomen marked by subtle scars that spoke of her bravery, the scent of her skin—sweet, sweaty, and adrenal—wrapped around Wednesday like a spell. Her cold fingers traced the curves of Enid’s breasts over the sports bra, then slid down to the warm skin of her abdomen, the touch transmitting heat in contrast to the cold snow beneath their feet.
—Take me. —Wednesday gasped, her voice broken by desire, her dark eyes shining with a surrender that was both compliant and defiant, the scent of her arousal intensifying, a musky perfume that drove the wolf’s wild side mad—. Make me yours.
Enid snorted like an animal and slammed Wednesday against a snow-covered tree. The rough bark scraped her back, the dampness of the wood soaking the dress and cooling her heat. Strong, trembling hands tore off her black stockings, leaving Wednesday exposed, her thighs shaking in the icy air, snow melting against her skin and dripping in cold rivulets. Enid pulled down her jeans with ferocious urgency, revealing only the firm line of her pelvis, flushed skin gleaming beneath the sun, the scent of her heat saturating the air. She moved closer, their bodies aligned, skin to skin, Enid’s heat melting Wednesday’s cold, and slid a leg between hers, their sexes rubbing in a savage friction that tore moans from them, the sound echoing through the clearing like a testament to their passion, the crunch of snow beneath their movements adding a wild rhythm.
—Yes… —she sighed with a breath vibrating with possessiveness, her hips moving with an instinctive, rough, precise cadence, the friction of their bodies sending sparks of ecstasy that made them tremble, the damp heat of their contact intensifying every sensation, the scent of their desire filling the air like a forest fire—. Ah! Fuck… No… I can’t think.
Completely surrendered, Wednesday arched her hips against the tree. The bark scraped her back with every thrust, giving her a sweet pain that blended with pleasure. Her soft moans intensified, contrasting with Enid’s ferocity, which fed the fire between them. Her hands, clawing at Enid’s shoulders and leaving red marks that smelled of broken skin, suddenly moved to cup her wife’s cheeks and lift her face.
She needed to see her eyes while she destroyed her.
“Beautiful,” Wednesday thought as she saw her through her lashes. The blue, unfocused gaze fixed on her, saliva sliding down her chin and the faint glint of her fangs. Enid was fucking her like a beast, and Wednesday loved it.
—N-No… You don’t hold back. —Wednesday gasped, her voice shattered by passion, her dark eyes shining with tears of ecstasy, her body trembling under Enid’s weight, the cold snow contrasting with the heat of her skin.
The thrusts intensified, their movements synchronized in a savage dance, Wednesday’s low moans blending with Enid’s growls, the crunch of ice and bark beneath their bodies creating an obscene symphony that reminded Wednesday of the wet sounds during autopsies. It was so… gratifying.
Enid, absorbed in her wife and called by the heat, lowered her head toward Wednesday’s neck as she let her fall back, lost in her own world of pleasure. Her teeth grazed pale skin, the salty taste filling her mouth. With a deep growl, perhaps a warning, clearly ignored, she lunged and bit her cruelly.
The sharp pain tore a muffled moan from Wednesday, her gaze lost ahead as pleasure embraced her in what she hoped would bleed out. The taste was astonishing, slightly spicy and warm, barely perceptible on Enid’s tongue as she swallowed. The climax hit them like a storm, their bodies trembling in unison, a restrained growl escaping Enid as Wednesday clung to her, digging her nails into her back, the burn and delight merging into an ecstasy that smelled of flesh, dampness, and eternity. They collapsed together against the tree, their sweaty, trembling bodies, the snow melting beneath them, the scent of their union sealing the moment.
Enid kissed the mark on Wednesday’s neck, her warm breath against cold skin, a soft hum of satisfaction vibrating in her chest, the taste of blood and sweat on her lips, which she licked shamelessly.
—…I love you —Enid whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, uncontrollable hunger flickering in her eyes as she tenderly cradled Wednesday’s face, her fingers tracing the curve of her jaw.
With a vulnerable smile full of dimples, she raised her hand and wiped with her ring finger a drop of blood that slid from the corner of those parted lips she adored kissing. She brought the finger to her mouth and licked the blood with a macabre expression that rekindled Enid’s heat.
—Do it again.
Back in the present, Enid shook her head; fear replaced the burning memory.
—What if that bite changed you? What if I… hurt you? There are no guides for this, Wednesday. An alpha like me… We don’t know what happens to humans.
Wednesday sighed and set the piece of meat aside. Her expression was impassive, but Enid noticed the slight tremor in her hands.
—Very well, Enid. Call your mother. I imagine she must know of some lycanologist here in Salem. But if this turns out to be something mundane, I’ll make you dig your own grave as penance…