Chapter Text
Prologue
Seven years have passed since Wednesday and Enid settled into their quiet life, far from the turmoil.
Seven years since Enid marked Wednesday forever.
At Gomez’s suggestion, Wednesday’s parents had the cottage renovated so the girls could truly have a place of their own. It now reflects a perfect balance between their two personalities—restrained and elegant.
Wednesday finally managed to publish her very first novel, the result of two full years of her life. It hadn’t been easy: she had to rework it while preserving her distinctive style. Despite its very dark tone, the book enjoyed modest success.
A second novel followed—a Viper and Evelyn adventure—lighter than the first, yet still infused with a tortured spirit. This one proved more successful and is still being sold today.
Wednesday is currently working on a third book, a sequel to the second. Its publication is expected soon.
Enid, for her part, opened a refuge for Alphas.
The barn adjoining the cottage was completely renovated to include an office, a common room, a small kitchen, a bathroom, and four rather cozy forged cages.
Several young wolves have passed through the center. Enid helped them learn how to keep control, how to find something to hold on to. She even helped those rejected by their pack find a place to live. Others, unfortunately, failed to find an anchor and now reside in a special facility, in a remote area of Canada, dedicated to werewolves. Enid maintains regular contact with that place.
An Alpha named Silas, whom she had helped in the past, stayed and now assists her in running the center. It keeps growing in importance, as it no longer welcomes only young Alphas, but also lone wolves and youths who have not yet transmogrified and are in need of guidance.
Wednesday and Enid continue to use their Absolute Raven bond. It is mostly used to help Alphas.
---
Chapter 1
Morning slowly awakens over the Addams-Sinclair cottage.
Enid shifts in bed, her hand instinctively searching for Wednesday’s warmth.
Empty.
But she doesn’t worry—she knows exactly where to find her.
After a quick shower, she pulls on jeans and an oversized sweater before heading downstairs. The familiar clatter of a typewriter echoes through the quiet house. She pushes open the office door.
Wednesday is there, sitting perfectly straight, still in her black pajamas, her braids impeccably in place despite the early hour. Her fingers glide over the keys with precision.
Without a word, Enid steps closer and leans down to kiss her cheek.
— How long have you been here? she asks softly.
— Enid, I need to finish this chapter before dawn, Wednesday replies without looking up.
— That’s not an answer, Enid insists, a smile tugging at her lips.
— I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep, so I’m working.
— Of course…
She’s about to leave, amused, when a hand closes around hers.
Wednesday gently pulls her closer and kisses her—a brief but sincere contact.
— I’ll see you later, she murmurs.
Enid nods, her heart a little lighter. Even if words of affection don’t come naturally to Wednesday, every gesture says far more than she ever admits.
---
After a quick breakfast, Enid crosses the garden toward her reception center, set up behind the house.
The morning air is cool, scented with late spring.
The first rays of sunlight brush against the trees and the dark roof of the building.
Silas is already there, checking the enclosures.
— Hey, Enid, he calls out. We got two new requests overnight.
He hands her the files.
— Great, she replies as she flips through them. We’ll need to prepare for their arrival.
Enid continues skimming the summaries Silas put together.
— I’ll handle it, don’t worry.
She gives him a grateful smile, then heads toward the office.
Her day has barely begun, yet she already feels exhausted.
---
Enid hasn’t seen Wednesday all day—she must have spent it writing. The thought makes her smile. She hasn’t read a single word of the new novel, but she knows exactly what it’s about. Wednesday writes about them; Viper and Evelyn are merely their reflections—except the fictional characters aren’t a couple. Wednesday had been adamant: no romance would ever be written by her hand.
At the end of the day, Enid and Silas walk side by side, inspecting the cages.
The young Alpha speaks with calm energy, hands in his pockets, eyes bright.
They exchange quiet laughs—complicit, but innocent.
Wednesday approaches the center, drawn by the sound of voices. She finally left her office, unaware of how much time had passed. She had spent hour after hour writing, never satisfied with what she produced.
She stops a few meters from the door leading to the cages, watching them silently.
Her face remains impassive, but a slight tremor betrays what she feels.
It isn’t anger. Not even jealousy. Just an unpleasant, unfamiliar sensation. The fear of being replaced.
Silas hands Enid a document, their fingers brushing.
Wednesday’s eyes darken. She steps forward, the sharp sound of her shoes against the concrete floor making Silas flinch. Enid, however, felt her coming.
— Oh, uh… hello, Wednesday, he says awkwardly.
— You seem… very close, she adds casually.
— We’re working, Enid replies, an amused smile on her lips.
Wednesday tilts her head, studying her for a long moment before turning on her heel.
— I’ll be waiting outside.
Silas watches her leave, mouth slightly open.
— Is she… always like that? he asks nervously.
— Yes, Enid answers with a laugh. Always. And that’s how I love her.
She pats his shoulder.
— Go on, I’ll take care of her. See you tomorrow.
Silas doesn’t need to be told twice.
---
Enid joins Wednesday at the entrance of the center.
Arms crossed, Wednesday watches a raven perched atop a tree. She doesn’t move when Enid approaches.
— You know, Silas is just a friend, Enid begins gently.
— I didn’t imply anything, Wednesday replies evenly.
— Mm-hmm. Of course.
Enid steps closer, takes Wednesday’s arms and places them around her waist, pressing herself against her. Wednesday doesn’t resist, but remains stiff.
Enid rests her forehead against Wednesday’s and smiles, still amused.
— You’re unbearable, Wednesday murmurs.
— And you’re way too adorable when you’re jealous.
— I’m not jealous.
— Of course you are. And I love it.
The hint of a smile crosses Wednesday’s face before she leans in to place a quick kiss on Enid’s lips.
The kiss is brief but filled with a strange calm, like a lull before a storm.
— Coming home?
— I still have two chapters to revise.
— Okay, but I’ll wait for you for dinner.
— Very well, Wednesday sighs. I’ll join you… if I survive my own prose.
Enid laughs softly before pulling away and heading toward the house.
Wednesday watches her go, hands tucked into her pockets.
The raven takes flight into the red-hued evening sky, and a fleeting premonition passes through her.
Something is going to change.
She just doesn’t know what yet.
---
Wednesday remains distant that evening. She can’t shake the thought from her mind, and seeing the woman she loves close to Silas only makes it worse.
She prepares dinner in silence when she suddenly feels arms wrap around her. She tenses immediately. Enid senses it at once and pulls back, then takes a seat beside her, leaning against the counter.
— Wens, Enid begins with a small smile.
Wednesday doesn’t answer. She keeps working.
— You know, I love it when you’re jealous, Enid teases.
— I’m not jealous, Wednesday retorts.
— Really? Then prove it.
Wednesday sets her knife down and steps closer, bracketing Enid with her hands. She locks her gaze onto hers.
— I am not jealous. That feeling doesn’t affect me at all.
Enid’s hands slide over Wednesday’s hips, but Wednesday removes them.
— I love you, Enid says before kissing her.
At first, the kiss isn’t returned—but the sensation cracks Wednesday’s defenses. She grabs Enid by the waist, pulls her closer, and kisses her deeply.
Dinner is forgotten. Their desire guides them to the bedroom, where nothing matters anymore except each other.