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Chapter Text

Wednesday Addams’ heart always beat like the dead.

But for Enid, whose senses had always been more personal than her roommate would ever know, she recognized Wednesday’s eventual fall off into sleep. When the new school year began, she had stayed awake behind closed lids – hoping to hear Enid’s shifting cease.

Once Wednesday believed her to finally be away into dreams, she could safely drift off herself. Enid memorized every subtle movement of her friend’s heart inside her chest, noticing the way it finally eased in a way Wednesday could never achieve when awake.

Not when she was so concerned about something Enid only found out when it was almost too late.

But out in the forest, away from all she loved, the young werewolf had to rely on the memories of Wednesday’s heart to soothe her. She did not realize it had become a staple into sleep until she began to forget its soothing subtleties.

No, Enid desperately thought within the haziest clouds of herself she could reach. I can’t lose what I have left of her. I spent so long taking in that last look. I don’t want it to ever leave.

What Capri had said about others finding her could not have been more true. Every full moon posed a risk, with howls baying in the distance. Their calls felt foreign, unlike what she had heard from Wednesday’s bestial form. Each growl from her roommate was protective and right, and as though it had entered her ears a thousand times before.

Maybe it was supposed to – that she was the one Enid was meant to see each month, transitioned into a new form. If things were normal, perhaps she could have.

But alphas in this world were to be hunted, and expunged for their crime of existing. With each passing day and hour, Enid felt a part of who she was begin to dim. She had so many close calls, but the other furs were bound to find her soon. Even without being transformed, who was to say they would not choose another method to rip her throat away?

The isolated werewolf whimpered to none, curled up in the underbrush. Gangly limbs slid out from the sides of thorns, her entire body too unnatural for such a world. Small animals had made her most recent prey, but without Wednesday there to console, nothing satisfied.

Enid grew hungrier, only naturally.

A new cold began to lap at her drenched coat, despite the weight of the protection.

Alphas were meant to be alone, just like ravens. It was always that way, even beyond the far-reaching history of Nevermore. Could she and Wednesday ever reunite under the stars, that piercing gaze seeing through to her only humanity for the last time?

Enid knew her roommate had to be coming, but she did not know where her wolf led her. There was an instinct to keep going north, despite remaining unaware of a destination. The amount of omegas and betas sticking to her trail grew more apparent by each moon cycle, so every section of the woods was never truly her own.

In this form, Enid could not retract her claws. They were where they were meant to be, brandished for a use she could never muster.

I miss you, Wednesday, she thought one terribly haunting night, gaze flicking to the gibbous in the sky. Tomorrow would mark its day full above, and another night of fleeing from the unseen – yet always heard – members of her kind after her.

As Enid let her eyes slip shut, she wondered vaguely whether or not her family would be part of the bloody search. They rejected her when she was nothing, so now, to find out their daughter was everything, how would they feel? Knowing her mother, she would be the first each complete moon to go tearing up trees and bushes to find the one who stained their legacy now.

No matter how powerful an alpha was, or how natural their existence should have become, they would always be a mistake to anyone different than them. A risk not willing to take.

Wednesday seemed to be the only soul who saw a softness inside what lurked in Enid’s darkest half. Maybe if she ever found her, tucked away in faroff woods, her roommate would think no different.

And then, Enid could finally be home.

But with the ever-growing worry of her hurting the person she loved most, she felt like she never truly could be.

Chapter Text

“I have no problem hunting you down.”

Those were some of the last words Wednesday had said to Enid before parting from the lupin cages, and she meant every interpretation. The psychic would stop at nothing, even her own life, to free the one who saved her in a million ways not a single soul ever could.

However, summer was not nearly as bright without Enid.

This confused Wednesday Addams, since darker days were something she typically craved. They were a break from all in the world that was too much; a natural escape in a repetitious cycle.

But without the werewolf she wanted back beneath that sun, nothing could compare.

It had only been a few weeks away from campus, searching through towns and wilderness for any fleeting sight of where Enid had gone. There were already growing rumors of a rogue alpha, putting her roommate in more danger with each coming moon cycle. Wildlife cameras and hikers had proved the suspicions, with many furs already banding together for the hunt.

I have to find her before they do, Wednesday thought to herself, frustrated by never feeling a step closer. Wind lapped at her face, a physical yet harsh reminder of the fact that this was her friend’s world now. The weather had grown colder as she traveled north, following after the invisible trail that fueled her.

Eventually, Fester slowed his motorbike, the air cooling around them both. Wednesday looked up from her daze, taking in silver light from the crescent that made its home in the heavens.

Ever since her first vision of Ophelia on the start of the trip, Wednesday had been met with nothing. Her powers were back to the way they had been before holding the journal for the first time, flipping through pages that felt ancient. Her aunt’s words, or whatever she could manage of them, gave away no worthy insight. The only potential clues lied in illustrations, but even those were scrawled in frantic pen.

“Sorry, kid,” Fester began, stepping out as they finally made a stop on rough gravel. “I think we’ve gotta stop here for tonight.”

Wednesday nodded quietly, unloading herself from the side car. Thing clung to the top of her only bag, worry lacing his features. The longer they rested was another night toward a new deadly moon, and Wednesday knew Enid did not have long. She was an alpha, and undeniably the strongest of her kind. But when the entire world wanted nothing more than to see her die for the selfless choice she had made, a future path was not one deemed possible.

“Where did you go?” the young psychic muttered to herself, setting up a small tent. Its surface was striped in the many hues of gray, which would have been a comforting sight only weeks ago. Instead, all it did was remind Wednesday of how things should have gone at Camp Jericho. Why did she not bunk with Enid? Maybe if she had stayed closer instead of pushed her away, Wednesday’s roommate would not have turned. It would have been her own grave in the vision, and not belonging to the one person who never could deserve it.

Enid would have been with the pack she was deserving of, and not the woman who walked free while she stayed shackled.

It should be so simple.

If only I had my powers, I would’ve been able to find Enid by now. I’d know where she was going, and I could meet her there. I would be able to fulfill my promise of returning when she transformed back into the way she was born.

What could be so special up north that only instinct led?

Wednesday sighed softly, tent fully pitched. Before she could fully step inside, Uncle Fester stopped her with his same warm smile. The younger outcast missed when it used to bring her a sense of calm only he could. But without colored light pouring into her side of the room each morning, all of it meant nothing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

But who will we see when we do? Wednesday thought, eventually closing the seal. Thing scurried inside, positioning himself onto a pillow of his own.

The sounds of birds singing through the night did nothing to soothe the ache she felt, one that felt endless without her right half. Enid was everything she should have been – the kind of person the world should cherish. And yet, her very kind was searching right now to take her from the earth.

It should have been me.

I failed Enid in ways I’ll never be able to forgive.

Wednesday, unable to bear staying idle by the side of another winding road, pulled out Ophelia’s journal once again. Though she had stared at its pages for hours without any change, there had to be something she was missing. Turning through stained text, the psychic desired for any reveal that had gone unnoticed.

“Thing,” Wednesday said suddenly, knowing her right hand was still awake. He shifted to face her, concerned.

She continued.

“Do you know how far ahead visions can reach? Getting to something beyond most of the time a psychic is here for?”

Enid had been on her mind as usual, and Wednesday wondered whether perhaps her roommate’s fate, so tied to her very own, could be somewhere within the pages her mother handed her.

Thing shrugged as well as he could manage, moving in closer to Wednesday’s discarded blanket. She made room for him on her makeshift sheets.

“During my first year at Nevermore, Rowan said his mother had a prophecy about my destruction of the school all the way when she was a student. That was twenty-five years before I even came close to attending. How far can psychic sight project?”

Thing thought for a moment, eventually shifting his fingers and form to communicate.

“I mean, I guess it’s possible for a raven or dove to see pretty far ahead. Why? Have you seen anything?”

Wednesday chose her next words carefully, taking in a thin breath.

“I wonder if Aunt Ophelia ever saw what happened to Enid. She was a powerful psychic before that incident in the quad. What if the black tears are connected to what’s happening now?”

It’s worth a shot to look, she thought, reexamining the pages. Still, nothing stood out. Each image depicted the same tears, growing harsher at every turn. In some depictions, they were black, similar to the ones Wednesday felt sluggishly drip down her own cheeks after losing psychic sight. The other liquid that left Ophelia was stained crimson, bloody without cause.

Night had always brought about a sense of comfort in Wednesday, but now, pitched beneath the fading moonlight and Thing’s concerned gaze, she felt more awake, alive, and alone than ever. She chalked it up to her desire to find Enid, and felt foreign beneath the stars.

Light rain began to slip from the sky, casting chilly droplets on the grass away from her tent. Thing had settled back down upon her silence, but Wednesday remained restless until the sun climbed back into its usual position above.

Sighing with nearly closed lips, the outcast finally tucked Ophelia’s journal beneath her blanket. When a new dawn rose, she gave into her built exhaustion, keeping the book close as though it could reveal new secrets at any moment.

But without what sent her on this path, Wednesday felt more powerless than ever. Enid, however, now struggled with the opposite. She was placed into a world that hated all she had.

The psychic fell asleep with an overwhelming shame and guilt, one that bubbled deep in the back of her throat. It buried a thousand words and new feelings.

However, as her heart eventually slowed to no longer match a familiar beat, a midnight flash gave way in her brain.

Wednesday twitched, eyes moving rapidly behind closed lids.

With sudden realization, she understood what was happening. It was a new experience, though not an unwelcome one. Wednesday was having a vision in a dream. Perhaps it was the touch of Ophelia’s book which caused it, or maybe even something more. It came at the edge of her cycle and rhythm of rest, or at least the brief fragment of it she could reluctantly embrace.

Wednesday saw Enid, trudging through an unending brush. Her canines were longer than ever, delicate blades tucked just beyond her jaw. The alpha’s fur kept most of its color, though partly drained.

Where are you? she thought through the haze, trying to focus on the details of the area. Unlike Wednesday’s other visions, however, she felt more out of control than ever before. It was as though her powers desired for her to succumb to the chaos and unpredictability than control it – something Wednesday never wanted. A primal urge like the ones she had felt while trapped inside Enid’s form seemed to spread over her every breath and move, freezing her far away.

Wednesday would have done anything to run toward Enid, feeling no fear. And for a second, she thought maybe the werewolf caught the faintest glimpse of her, stuck far away. Whatever thought may have been there faded instantly, a new focus taking hold.

The familiar caws of ravens sounded off in the distance, not unlike the ones that surrounded the Addams grave Weems had showed her.

Wednesday snapped awake without warning as Enid growled at an invisible threat. She was not alone, the moon above her head close to full.

That’s happening now, she realized. The gibbous is the exact same. But where are you, Enid? Who’s hunting you now?

The young psychic’s breaths came out thick and gasping, Thing instantly flocking to her side.

“Enid,” Wednesday choked out. “I saw her.”

She peered down at Ophelia’s journal, which seemed open to a new page. Though it was one Wednesday had seen over many days before, a new detail seemed to reveal itself.

It was a drawing of Aunt Ophelia, a crown of thorns sticking through ghostly white follicles. Her eyes leaked black tears, but there was something different about this page.

For the first time, Ophelia was not surrounded by an inky white, or doors of unknown skulls.

She was standing in a forest of dead flowers, with a full moon scribbled above her, practically glowing. Ravens flocked, not at her side, but instead facing whatever stayed off in the dark.

“DON’T GO” was written nearly a hundred times, scrawled so harshly the paper had almost torn in two.

But it was the trees that caught Wednesday’s attention the most.

They were the exact same ones she had seen in her dream, down to their very charred bark.

“Thing,” Wednesday began, ignoring every warning. “I think I know where she is.”

Chapter Text

Sharing a slow drip of mysteries seemed impossible over such a distance.

In the ever-growing haze, Enid had no idea how far she had truly gone from the paved streets of Nevermore. She was lucky that first day, practicing a dance all her own, that a full moon was not dangling close. The alpha’s initial transformation had been an awakening one, and a taste of the terrors isolation would bring.

Enid’s wolf stared up into the starless blue, noticing its faint shifting into an orange that would soon be black. Even with her mind buried deep beneath instinct, its indication was telling.

This would mark the newest night she would need to face alone, one painted by wolves in the shadows. Those previous months, the feral growls of omegas and betas rivaled her own strength, fierce callings into a battle Enid could never win as just one. The other werewolves were bound to catch up, guided by their haunting desire.

She missed Wednesday, and the thought of her roommate being the first one to meet her pale eyes each morning. Trivialities were all that consumed her then, and life sailed smoother in such a way. But now, marked beneath the canopy, Enid awoke to fur obscuring her eyes. The yawn that left her, reaching out from spiked canines, was not her own.

The young alpha remained trapped inside something that drained her of all she was, feeling more lost with every meeting of the moon.

There seemed no way to fix it, but she would have done anything for Wednesday’s embrace of goodbye. Saving her had felt right. Putting breath back into her roommate’s lungs is what even kept her own still moving beneath matted fur and thicker ribs.

Ceaseless thoughts where all Enid could cling to. She wondered how many milestones she was missing.

Her birthday had likely already passed, though the count of days were of no real meaning now. A wolf just needed to survive every rising of the sun and falling of the moon, and there was nothing more to this existence.

She was nothing more.

A chaotic beast of her own creation and birth, set about to wither and die. Enid had no mentor, not with Capri so far. Dreams of Wednesday picked apart the alive sections of her mind as though ravens had plucked off their feathers inside her simmering brain. Through a fuzzy lens, Enid felt watched by more than one set of eyes. The first was familiar and comforting, possibly the thought of Wednesday still tracking her trail. She made a promise, and knowing the young Addams, it was one she intended to keep. The other eyes were laced with doubt and an unknown so dark Enid practically felt the pressing of a ghost’s hands against her. Whoever they belonged to was close to her own fading.

The full glow of the moon had fallen into set long ago as she continued traveling at a steady pace, nowhere close to ending for the start of a new night.

Hideous groaning of tree branches in a foreign wind took stage, carrying along a new sound.

It started as something so faint, Enid’s wolf wondered if it had really ever been there at all. But suddenly, the strength that had cursed her understood with a panicking start that there was more than the trees at last.

A bark too close sounded after that hollowing warning, followed by a new set of howls.

More than just those two sets of unknown eyes were after her now. Based on the haunting symphony of a hunt now encircling her, Enid knew the omegas and betas had been laying in wait just for this night.

They were ready to kill her, and rid the world of an alpha far from their own.

Enid’s wolf hissed, casting a spit of warning onto cracked leaves. But as harsh steps slinked closer, she was left with one light glow to lead the new pack.

With irises whiter than daytime clouds, a figure draped in a fur coat of silver gray came into view. Scars had lashed against his face, never properly tended to.

And now, met with a fight she could never escape unscathed, Enid felt fear at her own kind.

They were her people no longer.

And there was no denying it now.

Chapter Text

Sleep provided no further clues, much to Wednesday’s frustration.

Throughout every waking and dreaming second, she kept Ophelia’s journal close – hoping for one more look at Enid, still so far. Had the alpha left the woods Wednesday’s aunt tried to bar her relative from, or was her roommate there for another yet moon, watched by more eyes?

Uncle Fester continued to drive to where the young raven pointed him, convinced on where Enid was based on her description. Those dying trees were inextricably tied to the Skull Grove, a nature reserve right on the border of Canada. Few normies ever traveled through those woods, known for their presence of hiding werewolves.

She’s trying to find a safe haven, Wednesday realized with a slight pang of her heart. It would be far from that for any other outcast, but not her kind. No one knows the people who transform in the land of the masked. It’s a freeing and anonymous place without judgment for any who want to be free. I read about it, but only once. It’s treasured in the dark, and not in many logs.

Enid, if you’re there, be careful. I don’t know who you might meet as you cross that border. This world isn’t like Nevermore.

Is that her final destination, or is there somewhere across the dead brush that awaits her wolf?

Wednesday was left only to wonder, feeling lost to the tether that had built between her and her roommate ever since that dream days ago.

Fester had the trio traveling at a steady pace, the weather too brisk for higher speeds. Thing anxiously sat on Wednesday’s crystal ball, tapping at it with stitched fingers. The psychic peered down to face him.

“You have some messages you haven’t gotten back to yet,” Thing said. Wednesday hesitated, keeping still.

She knew it was her parents and Agnes, all three so worried with such little contact. Wednesday felt more lost than ever without Enid, unable to do even what she secretly enjoyed. Talking to her family now would have been like moving through a tar pit that would only drag her down too far from the one she needed.

“I’ll look at it later,” Wednesday said briskly, reopening Ophelia’s journal as a distraction. Thing was unconvinced, not moving from its cloudy surface. An annoyed glare met his persistence and worry.

“They’ll be fine without me. Enid isn’t.”

Thing stayed where he was for a long moment before eventually sliding off the slick glass, taking his seat next to Wednesday in the side car.

After an hour of unguided travels, Wednesday still searching through a disconnected book, Fester finally slowed the bike.

“See anything so far?” he asked, hoping his niece may have spotted something reassuring along the way. The raven shook her head, now taking in where they had stopped.

“I’ve heard of the Skull Grove, but I’ve never been,” Uncle Fester continued at Wednesday’s silence. “I think you’re right. If there’s anywhere a werewolf wants to hide, that’s definitely it!”

That’s good, the young psychic thought, though frowned at Ophelia’s journal. But the real question is what role does my mother’s missing sister have in all this? How did she know where Enid was headed decades before either of us were ever born?

“Do you know how dangerous it is for a new wolf there?” Wednesday asked, working to keep her tone to its typical neutrality. Fester thought for a moment.

“Well, very few have chosen to come back from it. But I met this werewolf one time up north – her name was Ana Coldsnout. Man, she was funny. But she got kicked out of her pack for a reason she never told me. She spent a few months in Skull Grove and the normie reserve around it. Said the thick of the wolf woods were one of the most amazing places she’d been. Don’t know why she ended up leaving, though. Ana never was too honest about it. Only told me there was an omega nearby with a sentiment she didn’t agree with. Things got a bit rowdy.”

That was decades ago. If that omega somehow beat instinct and took over, Enid could be in danger.

“Did she say anything else about them?”

Fester shook his head apologetically.

“Sorry, kid, but that was about as far as I could get with her. It was a full moon, and she had to skedaddle sooner or later. But I’ll never forget that she made killer Chupacabra dippers!”

We need to hurry there. Enid could be running out of time with more than one group of hunters after her. If that fur is still around, he could reject her. Anyone would with an alpha all alone.

Fester tried unloading himself from the bike seat to take another stop, but Wednesday shook her head.

“We have to keep going,” she started, keeping her eyes away from the crystal ball that still glowed with a dozen messages. “Enid isn’t safe out there. How far is Skull Grove now?”

“Just a few more days,” Fester said with a shrug. “There’s a normie town we’ll pass by on the way up where it gets a little bit colder. Are you sure you want to keep going?”

The psychic nodded, omitting Ophelia’s warning. No one else needed to know of the chance of danger ahead, and she would take the fall if it proved to be anything like what her aunt had foreseen all those years ago.

Wednesday would do anything to save Enid, and lose all it took. Because without her, she felt as though she had nothing at all.

…

She was nothing at all.

Chapter Text

A face of festered wounds lunged toward Enid, lips already bloody from an earlier kill. Her wolf drew to the side faster than he could snap his jaws, growling lower than ever needed before.

He was clearly an omega, smaller in stature than the alpha he and his pack chose to face. However, the leader’s determination superseded his size, giving a sense of ruthless more dominating than any werewolf she had seen.

Enid slashed her claws against the dead grass as a final warning before charging, thick saliva running its way down her chin. Just one well-placed bite with fangs as large as hers and any werewolf, regardless of their position below her in the hierarchy, would surely fall. Her lack of experience was the only thing to make falter. These were Enid’s only days in a new body, instinct all to guide her.

And yet, she felt as though she was hardly herself, so tucked away in the haze of survival. The wolf now outside sucked away at her strength, but it was not her fault. She never asked to suffer for Enid’s choices, ones that were wholly her own.

The scarred beast ignored her signs of final warning, accepting the impact of the alpha’s charge. He skidded against dirt, using their sudden proximity to attempt a sharp bite of his own. Enid felt the tips of his fangs pierce her tough flesh, burying beneath mats of knotted fur.

She let out an animalistic howl, kicking him off of her shoulder blade before he could let his teeth run any deeper. Enid’s wolf rolled the omega forward, toppling him onto the patches of snapped leaves. He hissed and snarled, face below hers. It was then she could spot just how infected his wounds had been, a sickly liquid oozing from by the red.

Enid whipped her head up suddenly, remembering the presence of the pack that surrounded her. They attempted to form a barrier of raw power, trapping her inside a circle with ripped claws. Still, the alpha kept her pounced hold on their omega, letting the sharpest of her nails slip so easily through his hide. Crimson instantly lifted from the broken skin, with more sluggishly flowing as she pressed harder.

Enid let her fangs hang from an open mouth, breaths hot and dipped in a deeper fury.

Before she could bite down to cease his squirming, two of the betas made their way forward. Their barks and growls were of an intensity nearly as great as their leader, though biologically never the same. Any other werewolf would have chosen to slip free into the night at such roaming numbers, but not Enid.

Not when she was an alpha whose existence would only hinge on protecting the life she hated most.

With her attention slightly deterred, the omega beneath Enid’s squeezing touch managed to land one grand kick. With some of the pressure off his new wounds, he scrambled on legs of a dark silver. He sniffed intensely in the air, torn ear twitching toward his pack around him.

Something’s different about the head of their pack, Enid realized, truly taking in his clouded white eyes. He’s never exactly faced toward me.

I don’t think he can see.

Is that why he has such a big pack following his tail?

The alpha growled as a final sound, easily clawing at the betas who approached her. These were far from just regular hunters, and nowhere near the lack of unity her own family pack ever had. They were calculated killers, traveling in a dependent group – and they wanted to slit her throat.

Enid pried the two closest to her off with little effort, maximizing her strength as the greatest of their kind. The omega with a tougher resolve stepped forward again, nose in overdrive – likely hoping to catch a whiff of foreign copper

It never came.

More werewolves stepped in near, like vultures on a rotting corpse – except the one they hunted was very much alive, never willing to die without seeing the face of the one she loved most.

Enid needed to view it one final time, alive, and not as the memory of a scent long passed. Only then could she let herself go, unable to do more than survive with this sadness.

So focused on ripping her fangs through the omegas and betas the blind wolf called, she failed to notice how close the one who summoned them had come.

The scarred beast heard the slight whimperings of his own pack, though they never backed down. Enid’s feral breaths grew weaker and more rasped by the moment, not used to so many foes to fiend away.

To keep herself upright in the midst of the madness, she imagined Wednesday as the one she protected then – just as she did all that time ago.

It was the only thought that gave Enid any strength.

Alphas are meant to be alone, she thought, licking away the blood that now stained the fur of her mouth. So why can’t I do this? Why can’t I live by myself?

Suddenly, the omega without sight proved why he led his pack.

In one swift movement, he extended the claws of his right hand. They landed directly in Enid’s chest, scratching the center of her dirtied form. They managed to wedge in deeper than ever before as he hissed violently, hoping to slice her in two.

Enid readied her own jaws, trying to inch forward to lodge them inside the snout that now grew raised. She could rip him apart just the same if she could get close.

But she was held so far, others furs grabbing at her coat to hold her back. The ringleader had a hold just beneath her throat, slicing veins.

Just as the leader omega readied to go in worse, a new cry entered the night. Enid’s ears twitched with a newfound surprise, immediately understanding that type of call.

Despite never hearing the sound of another alpha, their presence seemed so familiar and real to her – like it was the type of howl she was born to hear and not face.

A few more cries entered around the pack, who all turned to face the undeniable call.

A wolf even larger than Enid slowly stepped from behind a split tree, her fangs reaching far past anything the young alpha had ever seen.

The omegas and betas stepped back at her entrance, turning to face each other with eyes of all the night. Several more towering furs appeared from the treeline. Despite their smaller numbers, they radiated a sense of deeper anger and resentment – enough to couple with their inescapable power.

The head hunter refused to give up his prey, despite several of the others scattering – only to be tackled by the alphas they dreaded and knew all too well. Pathetic whimpers escaped their throats instead, but not the one of their leading figure.

He knew he was beat, though.

Following one vicious howl, empty irises meeting Enid’s gaze, the omega scampered off to join the rest of his fleeing pack. A twisted tail disappeared into the thick of the woods as the moon lost part of its glow.

They were out of time and strength for today.

Enid’s wolf immediately turned to her saviors, ones with size to rival her own. However, there was no head of their pack – at least not as it seemed. The few looked at her with a sense of calculated caution, tension slightly loosening upon noticing the faint – but always there – colors on blood-drenched Enid’s fur. They took in her height, and limbs still not to what they would someday reach. She was still a pup to them – and really, the world.

A child, trapped in a mind and world of nothing but decay.

The first alpha who entered moved her head low as an invitation to follow.

But as Enid hesitantly trailed off into a new part of the bone-draped woods, she knew not what awaited her on the other end of safety.

And truthfully, maybe nothing ever could.

Wednesday, come find me, she thought faintly, body moving against her own command. I don’t know where my home is anymore.

Chapter Text

For a town experiencing its supposed summer, the place Wednesday had arrived in at last was bleaker than driest winter. Dead leaves scraped against poorly paven roads, far from ever floating. The sight made the young psychic smirk, enjoying of such unforgiving weather. Even Fester sighed with a similar approval, enamored – as their family often was – by the dreariest path nature could provide.

The natural environment was far from what kept Wednesday hesitant. Ratchet, it was the stale taste in the air, and the following eyes that tracked every movement and breath foreign to them. Thing anxiously scuttled to the raven’s shoulder, tucking his stitched fingers close. 

Fester had been right about this normie village seeming far from welcoming.

Shopkeepers switched the signs on their doors, stepping inside with disgruntled judgments. Though outcasts were permitted to walk the world after all their fighting for it, most of society still sought another fate for them. Jericho only accepted diversity if it could profit from that pain, and many populous places had followed suit long ago. But here, away from all that was mainstream, being not of the shared blood was an unacceptable crime.

Wednesday pulled her travel trunk from the side car of Fester’s motorbike, balancing its weight as much as she could. Thing made his way to rest on top, sitting by its biggest latch. Wednesday’s uncle had parked their vehicle of adventure in the lot of the town’s only hotel: A place known as Brisk Pathways.

Wednesday found its name ironic upon stepping inside dilapidated doors, paint seeming to peel more by the second. The only guests spotted inside were an elderly couple, smoking a shared cigar. Upon the entrance of the three Addamses, they muttered beneath stenched breaths – before ultimately leaving the patchwork couch with an undoubtable snarl.

Fester seemed unaware of the hatred in the hearts of Familiar’s townspeople, grinning dopily as always. Perhaps he did pick up on their malice. But if noticed, he shared no real indication of it.

Wednesday admired her uncle’s same ability to not mind the stares and glares of others. Life was too hideously short to fear people who would fall in the same grave.

The trio made their way over to the receptionist’s desk, illuminated only by a small lamp. A half-asleep clerk blinked at them slowly through crusted lids.

“We’ll take two rooms for an overnight stay,” Fester said happily, already pulling out used cash from his bag.

The man on the other end merely huffed, accepting the money with the same sting in his drained eyes. He knew they were outcasts on look alone, which was only confirmed by Thing’s missing form.

Fester thanked him, taking two stained keyrings. He turned back toward Wednesday as they faced the staircase leading up to their suites. The raven peered around the lobby as they walked toward creaky steps, taking careful notice of the space.

Paintings decked the decrepit walls, depicting wolves in the snow of woods not far from what lay ahead of Familiar. The eyes of each were beastly, haunting sights in a new night. Wednesday wondered vaguely if the people here were aware of how close they were to werewolf grounds. Perhaps that was why they craved such art – it was the only kind of canine they saw to be natural in those far-off forests. Any others were monsters to be ripped by the showing teeth of those gray wolves heading off into their latest midnight. One too many tales built up their coldness.

Several large bookcases were planted on the other walls, dusted and untouched. Faint lines of cobwebs still in use were the only signs of recent life and thought.

Wednesday, Fester, and Thing made their way up winding stairs in an inky dark. Even the building itself seemed to reject those who had been outcasted, but the psychic ignored the feeling of stares through bronze peepholes.

“All right, kid,” Fester said finally, handing Wednesday and Thing their shared key. “We’ll regroup in the morning and keep heading to Skull Grove. If we wake up early enough, we might even be able to get to the edge of the reserve before sunset!”

His niece shared her gratitude with a personal and gentle nod, truly grateful for the way Fester had always been there to help her when she needed him. Without Enid, he and her forever right hand were just enough to get through each moment.

Wednesday found it to be an odd thought, though. Had she not always wanted to be alone? She desired for that all her life, but now the feeling of being away from the one who changed everything about her very being was… spirit-ripping.

When had she changed so much?

Enid being in her life had altered it all, making this existence far harder than Wednesday could ever have anticipated from love. Feeling was no easy task, and yet she was drawn to it more than anything in the entire world when it came to the one she…

She…

….

Wednesday tucked the thought away as quickly as she could. She liked Enid. That was her roommate and best friend, so of course it was acceptable to miss her after such a sacrifice. It was only a normal response. Anyone would carry that guilt.

But why did the feeling of longing never fade in its intensity, not even for a moment of alternate joy?

It was new. Too unfamiliar, and therefore dangerous as a result. Wednesday feared so much what it may entail that she shook her head, gaze falling to a sight she had long ignored as well.

The crystal ball.

It kept its continual glow, sparking with the light of new messages. Thing caught Wednesday’s sights change to it, moving in closer himself.

“We have some time before we should get to bed. Maybe you could get back to them? I’m sure they miss you.”

The psychic let out a careful exhale, fingers initially far from twitching. But due to her need of a distraction from the feelings she pushed away, shifting to familiar ones could do exactly that redirecting she so desperately desired.

“I’m just doing it to think,” Wednesday said, picking up the crystal ball by its base. She moved to sit on the edge of her bed, fitted with sheets of darkest black. “Nothing more. They will survive without me.”

Thing stared back at her disbelievingly, but left the psychic to her interpretive choice. He moved to his small suitcase, unpacking what he could on the other side of the hall. Eventually, he scuttled into the bathroom to lay out his trunk.

Wednesday lifted the gift of magic closer, shaking it just enough that the names of those who had called glowed brighter than before. She reluctantly swiped on the first, which had been from Agnes.

She regretted giving her a ball of her own for the extended break, now flooded with a half a hundred missed messages. Wednesday internally groaned, dreading the worry that would come from her once-stalker.

Almost immediately upon attempting to reach out, Agnes responded from the other end. Based on the slight background that formed in the mist, Wednesday could tell she was stuck home again. Staying in the DeMille manor of Maine was far from interesting for someone who wanted to explore a life of her own for once, and not bury in the coverup her mother wanted planned. Agnes’ father said nothing of his daughter during her period trapped in those walls, which at times could be a mercy – but still remained as a deep pit in the teenager’s lonely heart.

Agnes wore her hair down to its same curly degree, green eyes growing wide at the sight of Wednesday finally returning her call. The raven looked back, unblinking in her typical fashion.

“Wednesday!” Agnes practically squealed with excitement, smiling through a deeper look of slight weary. “You finally called back!”

“Tamp down the thrill,” she said, voice as monotone as ever. Hearing it made Agnes’ features soften. “I am merely seeing how the search has gone on your end.”

A bit of a lie, but not one Wednesday had failed with before.

Agnes shook her head, frowning slightly. “Not well. There’s almost nothing online about actual accounts of alphas running off into full moon nights. Most are just rumors or Reddit posts.”

Wednesday’s annoyance flared, frustrated by how nothing on either end had led them very far. It seemed as though Ophelia’s vision of a dire warning was all that held any truth.

When will your piercing gaze and hideous crows return? the psychic wondered faintly, gaze flicking to the journal still inside her suitcase. It had been empty and unforgiving since that night of realization and strange connection to a new force.

Wednesday decided to fill Agnes in on the latest of her own part of the investigation – leaving out what she told to none.

“I had a vision of Skull Grove a few days ago. It’s an outcast nature reserve many werewolves have flocked to for safety in the past. I think Enid might be there.”

“You had a vision?” Agnes asked, with excitement she tried to mask inevitably bubbling through. “Are your abilities back?”

Wednesday hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

“They’re unpredictable, but I think I’m getting closer. The more I study the book my aunt left behind, the more I feel like I’m getting near another.”

Agnes smiled, slightly reassured. She had missed Enid, being frustratingly locked away so far.

“If you need me to come out there, I’ll do it,” she added with wide, anticipatory eyes. “I can always make up an excuse to get one of my father’s assistants to drive me out there. Then I could try some… secret snooping.”

She referred to her untitled invisibility, a treasured gift in this practice. Wednesday, however, remembering Ophelia’s warning of this path, knew she had to reject the help and presence. It was not worth losing Agnes too in this world.

“I’ll have you keep seeing what you can find from home. Update me if you discover anything that might lead to where Enid could be inside those exact woods.”

Agnes nodded, faint disappointment creeping its way in her few movements. Still, any effort she made to find Enid was to be an important one. She would not fail the werewolf that brought her into a much-needed light.

The call through the crystal eventually ended. Wednesday raised her hand over the missed message from her mother and father, wondering whether to go through with seeing their concerns.

Against her initial judgement, the psychic at last created a connection of her own. 

Morticia and Gomez instantly appeared on the other side of the fog, features shining clearer by the second.

“Oh, dear!” Wednesday’s mother let out, putting a hand on her fluttering heart. She and Gomez smiled at seeing their daughter alive and seemingly well on the opposite end, keeping her typical glower.

“My little poison trap,” Gomez began, “how goes your search in finding Enid?”

Wednesday watched the eyes of her parents sparkle with the immense love only possible by an affection realer and greater than many would ever know.

She chose to keep out Ophelia’s part in her path. She could not afford to see them the way she was, trapped by this fairly forceful danger.

“I’m getting closer,” Wednesday replied stiffly. “I have reason to believe she might be seeking asylum in Skull Grove.”

Gomez’s face lit up with recognition.

“You know it?”

“Oh, yes!” he said excitedly, moving in closer to Morticia. “Back when your mother and I were at Nevermore, one of the members of Caliban Hall would talk about it all the time. He didn’t have a pack, but had been told by his cousin that it was the only place he could be without one. So, he always said he would set off to the Canadian wilderness one day and make a home for himself there with wolves just like him.”

“Do you know if he ever went?”

Gomez shook his head.

“The last I heard of Igor, he opened a hotel up north. Suddenly changed his plans. Said he was happy there with his wife. He got engaged the year after your mother and I did! I would have gone, but the old chap insisted I continue my work back here. Told me it wasn’t any trouble.”

A hotel?

“Where did he build it?” Wednesday asked, black heart picking up the slightest bit of added speed – even when she tried to tamper it down with trickling force.

“Some normie village,” Gomez said, shrugging. “I don’t know why he chose it. That place never was very accepting of outcasts. But maybe his wife wasn’t a werewolf, and that’s why he gave up hope of finding a full pack.”

Wednesday knew far more than her father now.

Ophelia, you led me here for a reason, didn’t you? the psychic thought, all other paths disappearing in an instant. This must be Igor’s place. If he still manages it, I need to ask him what he knows about Skull Grove. If it was his dream home, surely he would have been aware of its dangers and refuge points before abandoning the idea.

If no one else knows, he might be my best bet.

“I have to go,” Wednesday said suddenly, eliciting a frown from Morticia.

“But dear, be sure to rest, and tell us where you’re going after tomorrow. Pugsley has been so worried too, even though he’s away.”

Wednesday avoided her mother’s eyeful gaze, quickly moving to end the call. The lobby of this place now called her, and the time to explore was now. If Igor was down there, or if any of the works in it were his own, she might be able to find out exactly where Enid’s wolf was in those woods.

The psychic briskly left the suite, saying nothing to Thing – and carrying no item with her. Night had already set, leaving the main floor entirely empty at last. The clerk from earlier bore a different name tag, suggesting the founder of this place was nowhere near – not on this day.

Wednesday arrived at the bookshelves, running her fingers over their exposed spines. Dust met her touch, but she paid no mind to it. The majority were famous novels or guides to the normie side of the area.

Suddenly, Wednesday turned her attention to the painting of wolves from before. Beneath it was a smaller case, featuring only scattered and primarily empty shelves. She knelt down, sifting through the few that remained.

A woodworking guide…

Sledding site recommendations…

Old naturalist recipe books…

Nothing.

Eventually, however, Wednesday’s gaze redirected itself to a golden nameplate. It was on the smallest wall, away from all the journals and selected novels. She headed over to it, attracted by one name spelled out in an undeniable silver:

Igor Morrow.

It was on a list of donors and previous staff, though held higher than the rest. A memorial?

No. You can’t be dead, the raven thought, now stuck in a roadblock greater than any she had ever faced. I need to know where Enid is, and what awaits me in Skull Grove.

Wednesday paused for a moment, hesitantly raising her hand.

Trying for a vision was worth the attempt, especially when she had nothing left to lose now. Touching the cool surface of the name plaque, Wednesday waited.

And waited.

A minute passed, and nothing. Not even the faintest flash threatened to spark against her sight. It was then Wednesday realized she must turn to all she had left – the only thing to connect to her powers, now lost. She returned up to the floor of her hotel room, stepping inside. Thing ran toward her, clearly worried about Wednesday's unexplained disappearance from moments ago. She cast a quick glance at him to briefly acknowledge his concerns before reaching for Ophelia’s journal, bringing it back down to the lobby. Thing stayed hesitantly at the door frame, wondering deeply whether to follow.

The psychic returned to her position where she once was, now holding the diary of her aunt.

This is my last chance, she thought with unresolved desperation. I need to find Enid, and that starts with Igor Morrow – whoever he might be.

Wednesday raised a hand yet again, but now powered by the hold of Ophelia’s records.

This time, she did not need to wait for a vision that never came.

The second her skin made contact with the nameplate etched in a surrounding gold, Wednesday’s head whipped back with a more violent start than ever. She fought through the agonizing pain of what seemed to be needles through her brain just to catch a glimpse of the flickering images. They moved like stop motion, a stark contrast to the smooth solidity of a showcase Wednesday’s gift once provided on its own.

She was confident in what she saw, though.

A towering werewolf with fur of darkest gray howled at a full moon, baying to no listening ears. His clouded eyes missed sight of the long-dead form of an even larger fur.

Her lids had been shut in death, likely as a last mercy.

Blood pooled from the corpse’s scratch wounds, already staining the omega’s form.

It was Igor Morrow, feeling at the body of the alpha he lost – surrounded by the same trees that engulfed Enid now.

It was then Wednesday realized.

He was not merely her guide to Skull Grove.

He was there. And she had a feeling he never even left at all.

Chapter Text

Enid had never felt further from home, despite the radiating hospitality.

Her wolf was grateful for the rescue, burdened by such power and an offensive resolve. She should have felt as though this pack was her own, but their warmth only reached the surface no matter how hard she tried. For any other, it would have filled every inch of the heart. Enid swallowed the guilt of not being happy in her saved existence – because everything in life paled in comparison to just one moment with Wednesday.

No breath came the same.

The moon was beginning to take its exit from the sky, departing into the first bright morning Skull Grove would see in months. It was why the hunters fled, knowing they would lose to the claws of those who never turned back. They may lose their power at the sun’s grand dance, but alphas regained that strength.

Werewolves like Enid had bounded together to form the family they found only natural.

The young fur ducked inside the entrance of a cave, one whose floors were smoothened only by the natural scratching of claws. Its wear brought a sense of home to the space, one large enough for so many bodies of unending warmth. Alphas ran hotter than omegas, despite the sense of murderous chill every other type thought to be within them.

Enid’s wolf whimpered softly, so overwhelmed by all that was new. The alphas at her side shared sympathetic glances, frowning beneath jagged rows of teeth.

As light finally descended from the dark they never left behind, two of the furs began to change. They obtained a sense of humanity impossible in such a feral body, slowly shifting into the forms that were once fully theirs. There was no violence in the transformation, or snapping back to smaller bones. Rather, they eased into bodies quickly clothed.

Enid looked up at the pair with a confused twitch of her snout, suddenly fearing what no longer resembled her own. The other three werewolves remained in such towering bodies, as did the one they saved.

It was then the scrawled poetry and artwork on thin sheets of parchment scattered across the cave made sense.

Not all of these alphas were imprisoned inside themselves like her. Some could run free, having never been bound by a full moon of their youth.

The fur who had entered first to save Enid’s life was one to gracefully shift back into her human side. She was surprisingly worn in age, her entire head gray like the moon. The second to revert back was a man close in age, though who still bore the slightest hint of youth in his haggard form.

The old woman smiled softly at Enid, aware of the hesitation to trust – having felt the same much longer ago. The thin scar lines above her eyes showed with even the gentlest of a beam.

“Don’t worry,” she began quietly, bowing her head. “We’re here to heal, never hurt.”

She wrapped herself further in a woven blanket, sighing gently into the stiff air. Enid instinctively aimed to catch whiffs of her for memory and intent, watching from keen and wolfish eyes as the other transformed alphas did the same – only to their new guest instead. Their tails wagged softer at taking her in.

“Now, where did you come from, young one?” the elderly woman asked. It was only then Enid noticed the faint scent of copper, trailing it to the small cut on her rescuer’s hand. The alpha to her side had realized a moment sooner, so experienced in his senses. He immediately tended to her, despite her gentle swatting.

“We have much bigger matters to attend to than just a cut,” she said. The man shook his head.

“Ylva, was it Igor who did it?” Fury laced his words – the first real sign of aggression in the pack after their grand fight of show.

The woman, whom Enid now knew as Yyla, merely moved to bandage the skin just above her wrist. The fur of her empowering alpha side had masked the wound well. Perhaps Igor and his hunters thought they never even landed a blow.

Her silence gave the man his answer, causing him to curse beneath his breath. With a furrowed brow, he glanced back up at Enid – the sight of her instantly starting to smoothen his features.

Her wolf could say nothing to answer, trapped inside a creature with no form of full speech. All that could be said in the night was a howl, now caught and viciously trapped in an unfamiliar throat.

Ylva stared back at Enid calmly, understanding of the emotions swept so easily inside such a story. Crimson sluggishly stained the cloth above her wrist.

“You must be from quite far. Your coat doesn’t match those of the furs I’ve seen out here. I didn’t know anyone was still spreading tales of Skull Grove – not after what Igor turned it into. This place is far from a home now for us, I’m afraid. It’s his hunting ground – but we have nowhere else to go.”

The woman leaned back in her wicker chair, stirring a cup of tea that had long gone cold.

“She’s just a pup,” her friend choked out. His words lost their anger, now possessing a sort of sadness few would ever outwardly express – even when they needed to. “When will he ever stop?”

They’re fighting back tears... over me?

Ylva sighed, tilting her head forward.

“Not until they’ve killed all of us, and have the fangs to prove it. My mother and Talia were not enough for his bloodlust. None will be, until not a single alpha soul is born on this earth.”

The three wolves behind Enid let out quiet whimpers, remembering well those they had lost.

Ylva sipped on the still waters before taking a moment to truly examine Enid’s werewolf. In the candlelight, every inch of her fur was no longer obscured in silver.

She was a young alpha, but an empowered one. Two large canines draped from her mouth, like blades at the ready for any hunt. Claws stuck out from hands that were once human, emboldening a sense of strength and resilience. And yet, beneath it all, she was still Enid – even though the fur felt more lost by every rising of the moon. Her colorful coat faded slightly from the dirt and the rain, but was still a recognizable sight for any who knew her. Unlike the view others had of alphas and their gaze, Enid’s eyes were soft – even if padded with only a natural uneasiness.

Realizing the look of her own, Enid quickly found herself imagining the final gaze of her roommate. It was one suddenly struck with understanding, yet also desperation. Wednesday wished for Enid to never leave, but the thought of hurting her in such a body hurt the latter more than being away.

“Don’t worry,” Ylva said, never taking her eyes off the one they now protected. “You’ll be okay.”

It was surprisingly grounding to hear those words for the Enid buried beneath – but the feeling was smothered in an instant at every worried snarl that forcefully left wolfish lips.

The old woman frowned at noticing how weakened the alpha’s state had become. Light meals and small laps at ponds were not enough to fuel something so staggering and grand. It was why packs were needed, after all. A community could come together to feed and to heal, since no wolf should be alone with such change.

“We have three like you here. They’ve been unable to turn back so far, but they have made the best of a life like this. We don’t judge, as we’re all the same. I once was too on the first moon of my own youth. For months I believed in the remaining sliver of humanity within myself that I would never get to say any final words to my mother.”

How did you change back? Enid thought, tears starting to simmer. She wondered if they ever showed. I want Wednesday. I want my life back.

She is that life.

Without her, I don’t feel like my heart beats ever the same.

And it’s not just because a wolf’s moves there instead.

“I could have Sav, Fenrir, and Lowell take her out to The Stretch. I was as terrified as she was when I thought I may never change back. I’m not the same, since I didn’t ever stay. But being with ones exactly as she is might help.”

He turned toward Enid.

“You’re welcome here. And I’m sorry our war has now become yours. We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe. It’s not usually wise to leave our burrow in the midst of these days, but I trust those three with my life. They’ll help you with anything. Please come to them and call however you can if you need it.”

The youngest alpha peered behind herself at the three in the same form. They seemed to nod reassuringly, ready to take her if she chose to follow.

“Thank you, Finn,” Ylva said, bowing a frail head. The man gave her a soft smile, one that already seemed so rare on such strained features.

“They’ll take you back in a few hours,” she continued. “But while you’re out there, please enjoy it. You may not be where your home once was, but Skull Grove protects us. We are our own pack, and one without a leader. Let the spirit of the wind run through your fur, and brazen every piece of lasting freedom you’ve earned. You are never alone.”

☾

Enid had listened to her savior, following after the three larger werewolves. They beckoned her forward at each step with a now familiar call, resounding with protection and a loyal love.

Sav’s fur shone brightly beneath the sun, reflecting its sparks of dark red into the day. Fenrir smiled through wolfish teeth, chasing after his calmer lover. Lowell kept at Enid’s side, playfully running at her same pace.

The whole world seemed to move and dance at their entrance, woods so welcoming with a new sense of calm. Enid now understood what Ylva had said about this place. Skull Grove, at its core, aimed to protect. She felt it in every step of her claws against warm soil. It was Igor, the omega from the previous night, who upset the balance. Alphas were natural and right.

Out here, that love from the nature they were meant for proved it at every step.

The trio of other alphas led her to the aforementioned Stretch, a patch of wilderness with no trees – only miles of thick grass. Sav unspokenly offered a race, with Enid chasing after his bouncing and bushy tail.

The others laughed in a way only their kind could understand, so wrapped in a gentle and caring warmth. No malice dared to ever show.

They tore through foliage, finding food each hour. Enid’s thirst eventually ceased upon their discovery of a river, one that flowed calmer than any she had ever seen back home. Water met her dry tongue, melting its energy inside her form. It would take many more weeks of such a life to heal her body after being so broken, but it was a start – exactly what Skull Grove had once always promised their kind.

It was the first time Enid had ever felt any bit of comfort away from Wednesday, the one who was her everything. Still, the joy was never the same. Every smell reminded her of the last sniff she had of a body coated in dirt and soon blood, staring with eyes softer and more reflective with life than any water.

Enid saw the world in Wednesday’s eyes on that night, so now the planet she walked on reminded her of the psychic at every turn.

This was her closest form of escapism, pleasing her inner – now outer – werewolf as all it wanted.

She and the others had spent the whole afternoon wandering sections of once protected woods, returning to the cave only at the first sight of the moon fading into its usual place.

For that time alone, Enid forgot about Igor and this war. She momentarily felt right in the body her soul now claimed. The sacrifice changed.

Even if it only lasted for a fleeting moment, Enid clung to the feeling that no matter what, if Wednesday ever truly found her here away from their life together, that she would love her always.

When did I start to think of it as love? Enid thought suddenly, reentering the cave as night fell upon them all.

I don’t know who or what I am anymore. And yet, my feelings about Wednesday are the only clear thing. They’re above all that’s forced and natural, in a category of their own.

As Enid fell asleep against the surrounding warmth of a pack still not ever always her own, Ylva and Finn having shifted to match their friends, she let her last thoughts against closed lids be the hope of Wednesday being among them someday. She could picture her head laid back in knotted fur, reaching that calm only possible in sleep – or the touch of their first hug long ago.

I want to be with you in this way, even if it’s for the last time.

That day by the Skull Tree was not enough.

And if it was up to me and not this wolf, every hour would be that way. The scent of your hair would be what I awoke to each summer and winter. The sound of your gentle breaths, ones no other gets to hear how I do, would be the last thing to join me as I rest by your side.

I’ve never been this poetic about anything, and I don’t just think it’s because of all the differences.

You changed me more than I’ll ever know.

And for that, Wednesday, I need you back. You see the realest me, even what was once hidden to my own self.

I can’t have that be our goodbye.

As Enid drifted off, she expected an empty sleep – similar to what was every experience trying to rest under unfamiliar canopies.

However, she quickly realized her dreamscape now warped in a way it never had before.

A sharp pain seemed to shoot through her head without warning, reverberating in Enid’s mind. She opened her eyes, only to be met with the darkness of a dream. Except it was like no other she had experienced before these days, because Enid was not alone.

It was no nightmare either.

Because the eyes blinking back at her, shimmering in sharpened yellow, recognized every part of her.

Enid was in the alpha cave, looking back at a wolf of deepest black. An omega, easily classifiable by her size.

She felt a sudden loss of control, wanting to say a million words – but not knowing what any of them were. Enid should know who she was looking at. Those canine features were ones that had saved her, but when?

As the sight that was something more than a dream slipped away, Enid caught a quick glimpse of a hotel in fleeting seconds. Someone lay beneath a layer of blankets in gray, but she lost the image as soon as it had appeared – unable to view the one who must be the werewolf who just appeared to her, far from rest.

I should know who I saw, Enid thought desperately, suddenly lost again as she faded to the gentle track of a dreamless sleep.

The person wrapped in those sheets was important, she knew it – and was likely the omega who had blinked at her with surprise and utter joy at the sight of her breaths.

But she was starting to forget.

Chapter Text

Ophelia’s journal must have slipped from Wednesday’s hold through the onset of pain, because when proper awareness returned to her, it lay untouched on the wood.

Thing had come to her side, causing the psychic to wonder how long she had truly been there in that vision. Still, none of it mattered – not even the dull ache that persisted deep inside her damaged skull.

It was only then she realized thick droplets of blood had begun to streak down her face. They were what her aunt had experienced decades before, though not with the same intensity. Not yet, at least. Their speed was slow and forceful, exiting veins with a reluctant sluggishness that threatened to quicken at even just a few more blinks.

Oh.

Wednesday wiped away at the crimson with a black sleeve, hiding the worst of the color on her clothes. Thing had seen it regardless, asking desperately if everything was all right. He wanted to know what she had seen. Since he was unaware of visions ever returning in the slightest, Thing thought this was her first since that day out in the link.

“I’m fine,” Wednesday said dryly, struggling to tell if all the blood was gone from her skin. That statement could not have been further from the truth. Trapped behind once broken ribs, the raven’s heart fluttered with twisted hope.

Igor Morrow was alive – and there was a nameplate missing above his, hastily removed.

Even if she did not know what exactly awaited her inside Skull Grove, she could have a guide. All Wednesday had to do was get there, and search the trail of a werewolf still mourning. Maybe he could even lead her to Enid, and stop that omega from making his move on the land her roommate hid.

“We need to get going,” the psychic said, more to herself. Not even Thing’s shocked stare grounded her.

“It’s the middle of the night. Have you even been able to sleep well in days? I hate to say it, but you need to stop. We’ll find her, but we can’t do that if you aren’t yourself. Is this the Wednesday you want Enid to see?”

She stayed quiet, dark gaze falling to the floor.

As much as she refused to admit it inside such a haze, Thing was right. However, Wednesday chose to follow after him back to their room for a greater reason as well. Ophelia’s journal had powered her to see the story through the nameplate. Even if it had been a violent batch of sight, the effects of which still throbbed in the soft spot behind her eyes, it worked.

But if Ophelia was wanting to lead her away from this path, why did she show the one Wednesday needed to see?

I have much left to figure out about you, Aunt Ophelia, Wednesday thought, carrying Thing up winding stairs. She tucked the old book in the crook of her elbow, magnetized eyes always falling to it as they made the trip to their suite.

Thing had calmed somewhat at her agreement to wait until dawn, but still kept a watchful stance. When the young psychic finally was alone again in their bathroom, she made sure all the blood was gone from her face.

I can handle it, just like I managed with the black tears. I haven’t had them run down my cheeks in months. Maybe this blood is how they now manifest? If I can stop that, I’ll be able to return my visions to how they were – while seeing how Ophelia made them more.

It hurt, but it showed me what I need to do now.

Mother said my gift was not a weapon to deploy, but a gift to respect. But maybe this is what I’m supposed to embrace and use, and not what Goody tried to show. I’m learning more now than ever, and it’s not with how they taught me.

Wednesday let out a nearly silent sigh, sitting on her dark mattress with the final intent to rest. The still-stinging ache made time slip away fast, leaving her to nearly fall into gray sheets without fully changing out of her dusted clothes. Wednesday wrapped the warmth of a quilt around her exhausted form, suddenly forgetting to bring with her what had brought about that pain.

Ophelia’s journal had been left on the top of her packing trunk – the spot Thing made her set it on minutes before.

Wednesday slipped into sleep more restlessly than ever before, partly wishing it was Enid’s fur embracing her instead of fabric.

It was at that thought she lost control, sinking into her subconscious at last.

Yet, it was not any kind of rest that took her. Rather, the pain suddenly grew worse. She could feel it in a dream, or perhaps something much more. It spread from behind her eyes to every corner of the psychic’s clockwork soul, filling each inch of skin that suddenly felt so unnatural.

Wednesday felt a shiver in sleep.

It signaled to her that this was something more. It was so close to the cold she felt when wrapped in one of Goody’s visions. The fire on that barn of outcasts brought her no warmth, instead cooling her very spirit at its core.

It was what Wednesday felt now before a sudden and unusual heat flared from her heart. She writhed in pain on the bed, though did not feel that body left behind.

It was a deep and primal fervor she had only experienced once before –

And that was in the prison basement of Willow Hill, in a body not her own. It had been the cause of witchcraft and a connection that ran deeper than she and Enid had ever known.

In its faraway state, Wednesday’s body began to contort and twist into bundles of midnight fur, limbs snapping to fit ones much ganglier and longer than her own. And when the raven peered through eyes now brightest yellow, she felt her own breaths as foreign in her throat.

Clarity faded slightly as she spotted the claws that took the place of limp hands – which now touched nothing.

She had transformed back into a werewolf.

Without a bodyswap.

With no dark magic.

No guidance of Ophelia’s crazed foretellings.

And without a full moon, in an existence that was not a dream. Wednesday was in a vision that took the place of her sleep.

Terror and disorientation were nearly entirely extinguished upon the sight that suddenly met her through the haze.

Wednesday, through a mist of darkest black turned white, was staring back at Enid Sinclair. Except… she was not how she had left her. Her coat was matted and worn, color nearly having fully faded from its top.

Her eyes bore a sense of sadness that took the very breath from the roommate who needed her.

“Enid,” she wished to say, or rather plead, but a wolfish tongue said no words – not as she understood them, anyway. Wednesday was forced only to blink at the body of the woman she would throw away her life for in an instant. The one who switched her very freedom for another’s. A million bullets would only bring joy at the mere thought of them being for Wednesday and not her…

Her…

There was something more to that thought, but Wednesday was swept away as quickly as she could come close to acknowledging the feeling.

Enid’s werewolf faded, replaced by a look of her in sleep. She was surrounded by several others in a cave, colored by many hues.

More alphas?

Enid was, without a doubt, tucked away inside the nearly endless Skull Grove. Wednesday had a thousand questions, wanting to desperately with all the power left inside her pained body to say even just one word. Her roommate was so close to her grasp, and yet… too far to ever touch.

Not like this.

Wednesday did not awaken suddenly after the vision faded. Instead, only the dark surrounded her, a stark reminder of how she felt without the one she loved.

And the emptiness Wednesday once yearned for was all-consuming now, and unwelcome in its whole.

Igor Morrow was not with Enid, sparking the last question the psychic could manage before she was left to nothing for hours.

Her heart lost its sync with the alpha, but only for a moment.

Because after that vision, their very bodies and brains connected to a degree only natural.

It was then Wednesday understood:

They were woven together for good.

Chapter Text

Enid startled awake, haunted by the eyes she was supposed to remember. Every fiber of what was stashed away so deep tried to call out for a name and a moment, but nothing surfaced.

Am I really forgetting Wednesday and everything else I had back home? the alpha thought worriedly, a low whimper escaping such a large throat. Knowing she could get no further rest, Enid untangled herself from the mass of furry limbs. Seamless blue eyes met the rising and falling of chests that had somehow found peace so far away.

How don’t they miss everyone they loved?

Or did they not have a single soul in that place to return it before?

Was coming here worth any risk, even not knowing what they might find?

In the end, it was worth it for them. They made their family.

But I found someone before the forest.

And I don’t think I can view my feelings of her any differently, even if all the memories aren’t there.

Wednesday. 

Wednesday.

Wednesday.

I’ll say her name as many times as it takes to not let it go.

Even if it all does, I don’t think I’ll be able to escape the feeling.

Enid’s wolf waltzed outside into a land of lost light, exiting the gentle warmth of the cave she had been welcomed to. Just as the alphas knew nothing of her when they let her in, Wednesday had done the same on her first day at Nevermore. She let her deepest secret not just slip, but be told willingly to someone she could trust from the beginning of it all.

It came from her biggest feeling, even if it was one few others ever got to see.

But unlike the werewolves of her own, Enid had something on the other end. They could be a family to her now, but her real pack was waiting – searching. Even if she could not understand the magnitude of the vision first known only in her dreams, it tied the alpha to something more.

Enid’s nose twitched in the breeze, finding the cold as a reminder of it all.

In her first time alone since the rescue, she was left to think of Igor Morrow and this coming war. She begged to any that could hear wolfish thoughts that Wednesday would not get caught in the claw of one with such woeful desire.

If her being safe means I never see that rare smile again with my own eyes, I’d take it in a heartbeat – just like I chose to be… this.

I would do anything for her.

But this time, it feels more final. It’s not just a hyde or normie who’s after us both. It’s an omega who wants my very existence erased for being who I am, and I won’t bring Wednesday into the own pain that’s followed my choice. She didn’t ask to be put in that grave. She did it for her family, one I don’t think I could ever deserve to be part of.

Because unlike Wednesday, I don’t have one of my own. Not without her.

She makes up my pack.

Our pack of two – that remains only as one now.

Every rustling of bushes in darkened woods made Enid more alert than ever, wondering if Igor had returned to finish what he had set off for. Perhaps the young alpha was safe for now, and the hunters would wait for the next full moon on a chilled and final rise before they struck again.

But with nothing new to fight as she thought her body was forced for, Enid sat alone in a wilderness that could have been something more if she never found the right light – a kind that let no other in to the same degree. Not ever again. Such a perfect first time required no second.

Deep inside her wolf, Enid smiled at the way the one who claimed such a dark soul brought more love than those who bragged without one.

Wednesday was funny like that. She could hide how she felt, but she was just a person. She felt more than anyone sometimes.

All the young werewolf could think of was the fleeting pieces of days long past as her tail flicked against a soft earth.

And despite no feeling of unseen eyes again on her form, Enid did not feel alone.

Perhaps it was the cause of that werewolf of darkest black. She had stared at her with a color and spark to remember in those wide eyes. Maybe that was the other sight she had felt watching her on one of those last hours isolated, making Enid feel only less alone – but not the same as the real thing. Not like that omega who was far from new seeing into her soul up close.

Enid knew she would never stop being hunted, not when she was like this. And to save her, the alphas with hearts unlike any she ever saw boasted could have even led Igor and his pack directly to their only home left in these woods. Even though they fled, one could have followed.

But whatever would come next in the weeks they had yet to meet, Wednesday and Enid would face it together – even though apart.

The werewolf’s heart now beat in sync with a new strength, even if she could not identify its true source – not with memories fading slowly at every breath.

But it was Wednesday who held her to who she was, and would be the one to not just free her from that pain, but would be the only soul who could turn it into something more.

Whatever it was Igor truly wanted meant nothing to such a bountiful beat.

They would leave to find each other no matter what, even torn across bodies and worlds.

Because Wednesday and Enid could never truly be apart ever again.

And it was not magic that had done it.

It was something more.

And it was a beauty they must find out together, now undeniable in both soul and spirit.

Because they loved each other, and it would be enough to bring them both back.

Chapter Text

It had been weeks of Wednesday trying to recover from what she saw before soaking back into sleep.

She had seen Enid alive and breathing. She bore a look not the same, eyes sunken and touched by the impact of her experiences away. The raven may truly never know the full scope of what her roommate had been through in the dark. And yet, despite it all, Enid looked back at Wednesday from a state of being unknown to them both before.

Riding off into a new dawn, the young Addams tried to search for Igor Morrow’s trail. If he had just lost the one who was his own sun, that meant he could be anywhere.

When did you leave the hotel behind? Wednesday thought, staring into the treeline. How long have you been apart from her?

For the first time, she understood the feeling. The psychic had so many questions, wandering aimlessly throughout Skull Grove without an end. She called out for Enid every night, but no howl met sealed cries.

“It is a big forest,” Fester began, stepping off his motorbike. “Can’t take this rolling beauty any longer, not when we’ll be traveling through such thick brush. But we’ll find her.”

Wednesday nodded, despite being disbelieving. Even though they had set off from Brisk Pathways a month since that vision of a conjoined dream, they had found nothing. Fester was right in how this place winded in an everlasting way, but the thought still pained her.

What has happened to Enid since?

She was with a pack of alphas when I saw her that night. Maybe they can protect Enid from the omega that’s on the way – if he hasn’t already struck.

This place isn’t safe anymore, but so far I haven’t come close to other claws. It’s time to go deeper into the woods, and venture where none have come back before.

But I’m tired of these gaps between visions.

I need to try again before I run out of chances – 

Because the next full moon here is tonight.

I can’t risk the omega of Skull Grove from finding Enid before I do. Whoever he might be, he’s surely connected to Igor Morrow. But how?

If I find him then I find Enid.

So, it’s time to think and see like a werewolf. They use what’s around them, binding their bodies to the forest. I have to do the same.

What Wednesday never dared say was that she had felt a sense of fear since the dream. Seeing herself back bearing darkened jaws did not bring about the strength and power she had when saving Enid all those months ago at Willow Hill. Instead, she worried she would hurt her, or that Enid’s wolf would not recognize her the same.

Though they only had a few seconds in contact, the alpha did not blink with the same recognition – and it had haunted Wednesday ever since.

She’s forgetting me.

I made Enid a promise. I said I wouldn’t let her be alone again.

And an Addams never goes back on their word.

“I think we should split up.”

Thing instantly voiced his apprehension.

“You heard Fester – there’s a full moon tonight. And if there really is a rogue werewolf hunting Enid down, it’s not safe to go alone.”

“We have to cover more ground,” Wednesday said. “I have a feeling this might be our last chance to find her. The two of you can search to the left of Skull Grove, and I’ll tackle its right. If we don’t find anything, we’ll return to a camp we’ll make for after midnight. Avoid flares – we don’t want anyone who lives here to find us unless it’s Enid.”

Fester shrugged, lifting the stitched appendage off a pile of leaves.

“If you say so,” he replied. “But stay safe out there, kiddo. Whether we find something or not, we’ll return here.”

Wednesday nodded, readying to pitch a small tent for the trio. If all went according to plan, Enid could be joining them under those sheets – hopefully in the size Wednesday wished she last saw.

“Return at three hours after midnight,” the psychic said, slipping only a short bag handle over her shoulder. In truth, the reason she wanted to be alone was to get time with Ophelia’s journal in a way she could not around familial eyes. After the way her own had bled the last time she tried, she did not desire any further worrying from Thing – or her parents.

I’m so close to finding her, Wednesday thought, eyeing where the book was sealed inside. Just one more vision. One more and then I’ll be done, with my powers back better than ever before.

Maybe what I see will lead me to Igor, who can then guide me through these woods.

Or it could take me right to Enid – exactly who I seek.

Who I’m risking everything for, like she did so quickly for me.

My life isn’t above hers. It’s far below. Why did she take what I deserved?

Wednesday ultimately bid Fester and Thing farewell, leaving the latter more worried than ever. Still, he knew the raven would not budge – not when she was so close. There was a chance she may see Enid in reality now, far beyond just a vision of a caged werewolf side.

And because of that, Wednesday would never back down now. She had to keep moving forward.

The sun had already started to set, falling in its earliest stages. The psychic walked briskly, peering at every fallen tree. Skull Grove seemed to be a dying place. She wondered vaguely whether it was ever something more, perhaps even flourishing, before it was such a barred road. The omega after Enid now could have changed it to its very roots and core.

But there’s beauty to be found here, even in the midst of darkness, Wednesday recognized. Even if Enid doesn’t like it here, lost in the sea of trees, I could help her make it a home.

I just don’t know if I want to be how I was in that vision.

What if I hurt someone because I love?

Enid was right about how I’m worried Mother may see me. And if I become a creature I cannot control, she might be scared of me.

She and Enid are the only ones I want not to be. Around them, fear is something that should never be a thought.

But it may be my own weakness that ruins it all forever, especially if I transform.

Wednesday tried brushing away the thought, only for it to sneak closer at every second of a deserted silence. After walking through the grove with only the chirping of bugs emerging into a familiar night, she took Ophelia’s journal from her satchel.

Its smooth surface contained so much hiding beneath. Violent words and images decked each page, showcasing a similar blood to what flowed from the dark eyes of Ophelia’s own niece a lifetime later.

Wednesday held it tightly, stepping toward a tree split in two. With something to ground her and the book in her hands, surely another vision could lead the way – and change the rest of it forever.

The young psychic reached her hand out flat, making contact with the trunk. Still, even upon touching its rough and splintered surface, no sight came.

Frustrated, she repeated the action. Wednesday lifted her palm, squeezing the other journal with all her might – but was always met with the same silence. The world around her had gone quiet, no powered strength coming now. The raven would have done anything to return to that stopmotion, trying to see through the quickened haze – even when it burned to look.

She did not see Igor Morrow, walking the forest alone.

Nor did Enid appear, behind the protection of a new and elusive pack.

Wednesday was alone.

However, it took a moment for her to realize that Skull Grove was no longer teeming with the little life it once had in the night. All the sounds of insects and departing sparrows had grown hushed. She could not even make out the sound of her own breaths, even when they were uncertain and far from slow.

When Wednesday peered around her still form, it was then she realized.

She was in a vision, but transferred to it much smoother than ever before. The transition was seamless, but this was not her world – 

…Because Enid Sinclair was right in front of her. Not the real Enid, because this time there was no shared sight. She could not spot the psychic existing in this plane with her, being from a different future or present instead.

Rather, the alpha was not alone either.

She was facing off against an omega, and was not far from where Wednesday now stood.

“Enid?” she asked, with no ears able to hear stiffened words. It was as though the world had been submerged underwater, only a sharp static filling ears stuffed with cotton.

Still, she could make out the unmistakable growls of her roommate, forced into a corner never tucked in before. Though the snarling and bites were going by so quickly, Wednesday saw flashes of black fur.

It did belong to her own wolf, though – one that now pounded deep within her locked heart at the sight of Enid so in danger.

Wednesday felt that same feeling take hold, just as it had done to protect Enid when they switched forms.

Focus, she tried telling herself, ignoring the blinding pain of a body soon to come. I need to figure out where this is.

Wednesday knew what was occurring would be that night, for a full moon brazed the sky.

And Enid Sinclair would die if she did not make it in time.

Chapter Text

Something was supposed to linger, and yet it had not.

Enid frowned inside her wolf, exiting the alpha cave on gangly limbs. Ylva, Finn, Sav, Fenrir, and Lowell all watched as she tried to leave, instantly rushing to her side. She had gotten to know them well after almost a month together, yet still felt like an outsider in both heart and mind.

It was not their fault – Enid was just broken. Wrong in a way she thought she now deserved, even if her other half tried to say it was not true through every breath.

“It’s almost dusk,” Finn said, shaking his human head. “There’s a full moon tonight. We can’t guarantee your safety now, especially with Igor still out there.”

Enid whimpered with her snout facing the rocks, a sign she still wished to continue.

I need to clear my head, she thought to herself. Or, well, what left I have of one. I barely even remember my own name. Is that what happened to the others here who’ve shifted forever? Were these just the identities given to them after they knew of nothing else?

They don’t even know my name. Or Wednesday’s.

Maybe they’re waiting for me to find a new one of my own, but that night will never come. Doing that would mean I lose Wednesday forever, and the last fleeting seconds I have of her in my mind would never come back.

I’m holding onto the feeling, and it’s why I need to be beneath the moon tonight. Something this day is… different.

I’m either going to get closer to who I am than ever before, or lose it altogether.

But for even just the thought of Wednesday Addams, I’ll take that chance.

Finn frowned, turning to face Ylva. The old woman thought for a moment before speaking, understanding Enid’s need for freedom in the woods. It was what a werewolf was made for, and their existence bound to. And if they could give her that, she would be more than family.

She would be of their very soul.

“Sav, would you mind being with her for tonight? I trust you know this place well enough to avoid him.”

The alpha with fur of darkest red nodded, huffing in agreement to the idea. He moved to Enid’s side, standing on ginormous claws.

“Is that okay with you, Fenrir?” Ylva asked. He was Sav’s mate, and the two had been inseparable since the latter arrived. Fenrir’s wild nature was calmed and humored by him, balancing both their spirits.

The other werewolf accepted the decision, bidding his boyfriend a goodbye that was surprisingly gentle for him.

Ylva smiled, despite Finn’s own weariness at the idea.

“Bring her back soon. We don’t want either of you running into Igor now that he’ll transform again.”

With that, Enid and Sav departed, bowing their heads to Lowell as they passed. His tail wagged with an appreciation for the young alpha, embracing their shared moments. Though Enid had no language in wolfish bones, his kindness did not require them. The greatest of moments could shine through silence, needing no words to convey the happiest heart.

Lowell had been a brother to her in that month, but in a way different than Enid had back home – even if she remembered little else of it other than the hurt.

The pair left into the coming night, basking in sunrise’s final hours. Enid peered up at the moon as it slowly grew clearer in the sky, its moment of fullness soon upon them all.

Igor’s return seemed inevitable, causing her to brace herself – yet still soaking in the remnants of a forest that welcomed her very steps.

Enid and Sav journeyed to the greatest lake of the space, letting Skull Grove’s tranquility speak for itself. The older alpha cast occasional glances up above as darkness started its approach, though his looks were not ones to rush her. Enid deserved her time out here where werewolves were not seen as cursed in this world.

Sav smiled, proud of her final hunt for the night. Despite Enid’s initial hesitation to ever partake in the stealing of prey, feeling as though they were hunted too, she soon saw it as something much more. It was not a way to fall into animalistic bloodlust. Rather, it was a cycle – the very kind Ylva taught her since the day of her arrival. The life forces of all here gave back to their planet, and understood their path.

The alpha pack had changed the way she thought of nearly everything, posing their existence how it ought to be perceived.

They had the same value as any other outcast.

Sav splashed Enid with rushing water, a break from his typically calm nature. Fenrir must have been rubbing off on him, which would have elicited a laugh from Lowell if he were there. She thought of them all fondly.

This pack was good to her.

But they were still not hers.

Only one person was.

Night fell as they both played, Enid eventually gaining the upper hand as she dunked Sav’s furry head in the stream – later wondering whether or not he let her take the win.

They soon shook off as much of the dampness as they could manage, a chill settling in from all around.

Sav’s head lifted toward the sky, signaling at the moon. His expression seemed to say “Ready to head back? It’d be safer to stay there for now. We’ll have tomorrow again.”

Enid reluctantly nodded, already mourning the loss of the nights they were robbed of. Ever since Igor had tried running the forest to rid it of the alphas that founded the very reserve, it was no longer a perfect sanctuary. It should be open and natural every falling of the sun, even with a full orb of gentle glow sparkling against stars.

But even just to be taken from one day of it was tragedy to a werewolf, whose purpose came from home.

Sav began guiding Enid back to their cave, careful to sniff all around them. His ear twitched at each faint snapping of twigs, wildlife carving the way to their refuge.

Nothing happened, the alpha thought, head tilted low. The feeling that had consumed her about this day ever since the dream she could not fully recall had never ceased, however. Something about this night was to change everything, but the chances of it seemed to dwindle at every careful and quiet step.

Enid wondered vaguely whether any other prophecies had been spelled out in visions her wolf sealed away. Not by choice, but by the need to protect – even if she struggled to remember what anymore.

What part of herself was to be kept alive?

What was worth it, and what was too terrible or unworthy to be redeemed?

Enid had been so lost in that familiar circling of thoughts, the only ones that remained now, that did not notice Sav stopping until she bumped into his back. Stepping away, the younger alpha raised her snout in the air – hoping to catch the scent of whatever had halted him.

Sav began to growl in a way lower than she had ever heard from him. But before Enid could step forward to see what he may have spotted, claws left their spot concealed in the woods.

Dark fur of an endless evening flashed in front of her vision. Enid howled, watching in a furious horror as Sav was thrashed to the forest floor. He snarled in a way that seemed to break the very barrier of sound, trying to bite toward the one who held him down.

Enid would recognize that scarred mug anywhere.

It was Igor Morrow, returning to claim his night.

He had found and followed them once more.

Enid sprinted forward, only for two omegas and a beta to lash at her tail. She whirled around to throw them off her, but it was just enough time for Igor to keep his upper hand against Sav. The reddish werewolf kicked him off his form for only a moment, with Igor merely returning to his position as quickly as he had lost it.

The two fought brutally in a darkened clearing, backs pressing against the trees that made up an edge to it. Sav dug his sharpest claws into the earth, riling up dirt in an attempt to keep his hold on the ground. Meanwhile on the other end, Enid lashed open her jaw to try catching her fangs on foreign yet familiar fur. They were the same members of his pack that had not learned their lesson before, facing off against alphas with a new strength.

But now Enid and Sav were alone, tasked with killing the group as only a pair. The former flashed his canines, lips twitching with a sense of feralness he forcefully embraced. Still, Igor’s hold barely loosened as he threw the other werewolf against a pile of stray roots. Sav fought as much he could, desperately casting glances back at the young one he was tasked to protect.

Enid nearly split the beta in two, claws ripping through flesh and fur. He skidded against the leaves before ultimately collapsing, blood oozing until there was none left to spill from behind his ribs.

The two omegas rushed toward her, battling on beefy legs. Still, Enid had an extra month to master this form, even without the same violence they both bore. Another beta tried to subdue Sav as he slashed at Igor, only to have his neck snapped in an instant by arms so unfortunately used to the motion.

Despite the kill, Sav was losing. He had been beaten bloody and raw, crimson caking fur already red. He growled, ripping off a small chunk of Igor’s arm. The darker wolf only wrangled harder after every second of pain. Enid tried to get closer, but the two gray omegas put up a fight with powers combined.

After minutes of throwing them away from her, she finally landed a slice against a smooth throat. The one she had made contact with whimpered frantically, choking at the way such vital skin and veins were rippled. He spasmed, huge body falling. The omega to his side suddenly dropped down, watching as his friend’s lids grew stuck half-mast.

He hissed, hobbling away with his own wounds – and casting no further glance back. A trail of blood left him as he departed from the second body Enid left. She wondered dazedly whether or not the omega would return, or if her repeated blows would be enough to subdue him for good. But Enid could not think of much for long, as a yelp that was once unfamiliar tore through the sky.

Sav bayed in a pool of his own life force, squirming in Igor’s grasp.

No, Enid thought desperately, running to the two werewolves. Just as Igor smelled and heard her approach, he lifted his scarred head with a devilish smirk. All humanity had left him.

With just the claw of his pointer finger, now wearing a new flesh, the omega ran the sharpness against Sav’s throat in return.

Enid’s breaths grew sharp, watching as her protector’s life faded instantly from him. Struggling lungs came to a startling stop, with only a thin layer of blood left to slip from the wound somewhere so important.

The alpha felt wolfish tears leave her eyes, emotions doubled to a magnitude only a wolf could understand.

It was both their greatest weakness and empowering strength.

Enid ran toward Sav’s body, involuntary whimpers leaving her from deep inside her chest. Igor stepped back on legs too large for him. Though he could not see her pain, he felt the very smell of it.

Enid let her paws sink into his fur, head lowering to make contact with Sav’s still form.

I lost another person I care for, she thought, tears tracking down warm cheeks. I’m not meant to have anyone. Wednesday’s gone. Sav was just murdered, and Igor will be after me next.

When I fail, he’ll find the rest of the pack too. Our existence is unforgivable to him.

As Enid looked up from the terrible death, however, she saw Igor rushing back into the woods. His claws guided the way, leading him far from the horrid crime.

Where are you going? she thought, leaping up. Despite not having the time to catch one last look back at the werewolf her heart would always miss too, Enid did so. It was who she was to peer at the people she cared for.

Always.

The alpha tried darting after Igor, but grew lost in the neverending woods. She frantically looked around a section of the forest she had never visited, trying to catch his scent in the night. But with the life of so many creatures around her, including crows just away from her eyes, she could not see where Igor had fled to.

Enid nearly collapsed, but not just due to the pain from the omegas that overran her. She almost fell with the heartbreak of thinking she would be alone – that it was her destiny to curse everyone with only a presence.

I’m exactly what Mom said, the werewolf thought to herself, blood becoming heavy. I’m not normal. If I were, I wouldn’t have been here – and Sav wouldn’t have died. He’d be safe where he belonged, and with the pack that saved him.

I don’t have anyone, and that’s all I deserve.

I’m the monster now.

However, Enid did not even have time to howl a funerary cry into the night – because a new sound met lycan ears.

She was so close to turning around, horrified it may be Igor returning to finish her off forever – and then she would only see Wednesday in death. But the same woman she had been thinking of appeared in front of her in freshly wolfish form.

Yellow eyes again blinked back at Enid, and brought it all back. She was toppled to the forest floor with the same strength, but without any of the ferocity.

Love overpowered the pain.

Because Wednesday Addams had found her way back to her when Enid needed it the most.

When they both needed each other more than anything in the entire world.

Chapter Text

Wednesday Addams had started to run, no longer bearing to walk through unknown forests. Enid’s life meant so much more than that.

“Enid?” she asked into the air, losing breath at every step.

Where is she? Wednesday frantically wondered, scanning the many inches of the horizon. Night had fallen not long before, securing Skull Grove in its welcomed darkness. However, tonight was the one time the raven did not desire that cold.

“Enid!”

Nothing.

Silence was finally too painful.

I don’t have any more time. She could be fighting that scarred omega or worse. I know it’s happening tonight. I know it.

Because it can’t be any other way.

After minutes of sprinting through thick brush, dead leaves tracking her every step, Wednesday finally reached a point where she could run no longer, stopping in a new clearing. Breaths came out unnaturally quick, with more than just depleting energy draining her.

The alpha – her alpha – was nowhere to be found, and she was running out of time.

Enid Sinclair sacrificed her life for me, and I can’t even find hers in return.

She looked down at her satchel, Ophelia’s journal still tucked and hiding inside. Wednesday was so close to reaching for it with bony fingers, hoping just one more vision might point her to where her roommate might be fighting.

Or dying.

If it had finally come to that.

The psychic let out a frustrated breath, though it was truly one laced with a greater fear. Lose Enid now, and it would last forever – even if the current time already felt like it had.

Wednesday had a feeling about it she was unable to explain. It was just like what the dream provided on that night in the hotel, draped in gentle sheets.

There was an emotion that trumped all logic and reasoning. One that went against her very code.

But everything was so different now. Enid had made it that way, and Wednesday grew to embrace and adore the change. She never thought to be possible, not when she was so routinely locked in her ways.

Enid Sinclair had altered everything for her, and now left to live it all alone.

She could not bear that life.

Just as Wednesday prepared to head back out of the clearing from where she came, she heard the sudden and familiar caw of a corvid.

A crow landed near her in that spot of the open woods, transfixed on something that had spilled onto the forest floor below. The young psychic found herself lost in its own look, taking in the dark red that soaked freshly dead grass.

Blood. New blood.

It still dripped.

Her eyes instantly trailed to where it had leaked from, only to notice the body of a werewolf strewn across the earth. For the smallest fleeting second, Wednesday thought it to be Enid – heart stopped by the slicing of her soft throat. It was one that let out a thousand heartbeats of love. But as she blinked, the sight of that horrible false reality fading, the raven realized it was not her alpha at all.

Rather, it was another, body discarded in the open field.

Wednesday slowly walked over to the werewolf, taking notice of how his eyes lay half-lidded. Not even a final breath tried to slip from parted lips. Despite the crimson being fresh, he was already dead.

Could he be one of the werewolves I saw by Enid in that vision? It’s hard to tell, especially with his body so bruised.

The crow hopped forward on small legs, making sound at something Wednesday only discovered then.

There was a trail of blood leading back into the woods.

Does it belong to the omega who did this? The one that’s after Enid now? If he killed her friend, he may be following her back to their home – even wounded. He’s shown before he’d stop at nothing to rule this place.

Wednesday hurried into the trees, heading a direction never traveled. As she sprinted, she caught just a slight glimpse of the crow that had led her here. Despite it being only for a moment, she swore part of its face was scarred and raw – like the tissue missing from the side of the one that had been stalking her back at Nevermore. The same crow that tried to kill her and her friends.

But it can’t be, Wednesday thought vaguely as she ran, giving up all her energy to follow after the path of the omega. Judi Stonehearst is dead. They found her body in the back of Isaac Night’s stolen car. I even snuck into the funeral.

She could think no more of it, however, as Enid needed her now – and the bird was nowhere to be spotted as she descended into desolate woods.

The psychic could say no words, completely wrapped in the feeling of following such a killer. Protecting Enid was her life force, enveloping all motion.

But as she came closer to where the sanguine liquid dripped to a temporary stop, Wednesday was forced to freeze.

A low cry rang out.

She was not alone in these woods.

Trekking slowly, she made her way closer to where the sounds emanated. But it was then Wednesday saw what exactly she had been led to, both in visions and spirit. It went so much deeper, down to the very soul.

There was not a feral omega that beat the system staring back at her. Rather, a familiar form met darkened eyes, skidding Wednesday to a halt.

Enid had been the one leaving behind that pain. She had escaped the fight.

It’s her, the raven knew instantly, recognizing every millimeter of fur on the alpha’s back. She remembered the way her breaths rose and fell against plated shoulders and ribs, even if only met with Enid’s wolf for minutes. That sight had never been forgotten by her, and could not be erased by any separation.

In truth, Enid Sinclair had never looked more beautiful in her entire life.

Months of searching, facing all her body could bare, Wednesday finally saw the one who had led her to the end of the earth. Enid stood on legs of knotted fur, crouched beneath the moonlight. Small whimpers escaped her throat, inaudible against a new wind that howled louder than she could ever reach.

“Enid,” Wednesday said, voice breathless in a way it never had been before. No words could ever encapsulate the magnitude of her feelings, once so foreign to her very bones. But with the werewolf who had brought all the love she had ever felt trickling to the surface, it was suddenly so easy to feel.

Is this what Bianca had meant those years ago?

It hurt so much to care, and yet, Wednesday did not want it any other way. Not anymore, with a future at her fingertips. Even the bad thoughts seemed ever so slightly warmer when she was with her, even just at the thought of it.

Enid was across the trees, but her fur, now dipped in only the faintest hues of the sky, would have been visible to Wednesday from miles. Months of staring at a picture and wishing it was real had branded in her mind.

“Enid,” Wednesday repeated, feeling her body carry her across the woods. Teardrops painted her eyelashes, nearly streaking down midnight clothes. She ignored the way her feet threatened to fall against slick leaves at the effort of moving so quickly without rest.

Every terrible thought and hour of longing grew to fade, carrying her at a speed impossible for any human. It was then Wednesday felt herself transforming into what this Enid would recognize best. Tufts of inky black appeared across her form as she bolted, familiar fangs slipping up from beneath her gums.

A transformation had never felt so effortless or real. Wednesday turned as she ran, picking up speed with every fleeting breath. By the time Enid saw what was approaching her, her lover was fully and utterly of the werewolf’s own kind.

This time, the psychic let her worries of it drown.

Jumping on top of Enid with matching fuzzy limbs, Wednesday felt her body collide with the one she wished she could have touched in such a way long ago. Her roommate’s moonstone eyes changed shades of silver, very pupils becoming wide at the way Wednesday had thrown herself onto her. They both landed on the forest floor, one which had been Enid’s home and bed for too long.

One simple catch of the scent she had spent so long trying to memorize forever on a night she could not truly ever forget, and Enid understood who had found her. It was in a way impossible – and through only a dream that foretold their eventual reality.

And she knew was never going to be alone again.

Their love far transcended everything that was right. Wednesday was never supposed to turn again, but her tether to Enid proved what Rosaline had said all along.

Just as some lent powers would never stay just borrowed, their bond could never truly leave them. No border, species, or family could ever tear apart two viciously beating hearts, ones that grew lighter at each other’s care.

Wednesday buried her head in Enid’s shoulder, snout finding its place against her fur. It was where she felt she truly belonged. She let out small cries at seeing and smelling the blood that nearly drenched parts of the alpha.

Though neither of them could use words, not now, their mixed and marked scents shared a thousand stories and sentiments no sentence ever could. Wednesday’s body moved against her own will, keeping her close to the look she suddenly never wanted to leave.

They could figure everything else out later, like how Wednesday would tell everyone she had changed forever since that day at the graveyard – though maybe even long before. Or how Enid would recover from the scars of being hunted, thinking for so long being isolated was all she could ever have for who she was.

But with their bodies intertwined, breaths warm against the napes of each other’s necks with an instinct that far surpassed all human feeling, both women were finally free.

The baying and calls of no other werewolf would ever stop them and their love.

It was how they were born to be.

Chapter Text

A name had never been clearer in such a wolfish mind.

Wednesday.

She found me. That’s who I’ve been thinking of this whole time. I remember her scent again. It’s one I could never escape, or ever want to. I don’t remember all the words of my life, but she is what I know now.

Enid’s werewolf licked dark fur, unknowing of any other way to express her utter devotion and love. The omega accepted the soft warmth it gave, letting her do all she wanted. Sliding away from midnight limbs, Enid finally stood to take in and embrace the one she had been missing – who her very heart beat for each day.

I wish I could say I love you right now, the alpha thought adoringly. But I feel like this is enough.

Wednesday’s tail swayed back and forth, an instinctual part of herself now brought into light. She bowed her head low as a sign to submit before raising it high in the air. Enid leaned forward on a more towering form, letting her canines slip out from a jaw lined now of blood only her own.

The alpha left a mark where Wednesday’s neck met her shoulder. Doing so, she was gentle as her inner heart always promised. Though the young omega felt pain at the site, it soon dissipated with the realization.

She was to be Enid’s forever.

Wednesday repeated the act, claiming Enid as her own to be under. The soft bites sealed them together, strengthening a bond that now went beyond their shared dreams.

There was no going back now.

Their love was a part of fate itself.

The omega stood back, letting blood bead at the spot. It felt warmer and greater at Enid’s touch as she approached, patting her own work adoringly. It was Wednesday’s eyes she grew lost in, soaking in their yellow. It was only in this form she let them stay open with such open love.

Werewolves were supposed to be more emotional when transformed, and yet, Enid knew this really was how Wednesday was inside. She was sensitive. She felt more than anyone, even if she kept it out of sight.

The pair did not need human words or touch to tether themselves. They had done it with something more natural than any cry, and more intimate and bonding than any kiss.

And yet, the mere thought of one sparked a feeling inside Wednesday she could not tamper. Sparks of greater stars buzzed through every bone, making her nearly weightless. Enid could tell it by the way her girlfriend stood, nearly toppling on lengthy limbs.

It was only the cracking of a dried leaf that broke the moment, rushing Enid back to a part of her larger reality. Against the welcome stinging of her true mate’s mark, she remembered the one she lost beneath the moonlight.

Sav.

With her brain transitioning back so quickly into the one she was forced to leave behind in a new form, Enid nearly forgot the fate of her friend. Her heart shattered with it, feeling the pain of a loss even stronger than any werewolf ever could. It was the burden of an alpha, and one that had been part of Enid’s life since her birth on a coast so warm.

Wednesday’s head turned to the side, puzzled at why her alpha suddenly wept. She speedily bent down to her crumpling body, nearly placing a claw of support on her back. It was then the realization must have hit Wednesday too. She came from the way of the corpse, and surely had seen the end of the one who took her in.

Sav was Fenrir’s everything. They were what made each other complete.

Alphas were never supposed to be with our own, but they loved each other. They made it work. Why can no one understand we’re not all the way they say we’re supposed to be?

They didn’t make these rules for our lives. The world did.

And Igor ripped Fenrir’s from him.

Enid's empowered nose still caught the scent of the other alpha’s blood, wafting through the same chill of air that had met with him when he died. She did not dare return to the body, not when overwhelmed with so much grief. Sav deserved a proper funeral, and it was one only his real pack could provide. Wednesday followed after her mate as she returned to the cave, bringing one soul back – and forced to leave another behind.

Still, the feeling of another hope ran rampant in a way Enid was unable to control. She had been changed and woven for eternity, brought back to the one she searched the whole world for. Her anticipation of this night being an altering one was correct, shaped by a power they both may never understand.

Was it Wednesday’s dying visions and their bodyswap that tied them in this way, or perhaps something far more?

The war isn’t over, the alpha thought, ensuring Wednesday still followed. She cast a small smile at the sight of her lover’s loyalty, now forever binding. Igor Morrow is still out there. I don’t why he didn’t kill me today, but it won’t be the last time he tries. I’m not alone anymore, though. I don’t have to be.

Just like the world told me women like Wednesday and I could never love, I proved Igor and everyone else wrong. He wants to take, but I can give. Wednesday can too.

We’re stronger than any force that tries to pull us apart, and connected by our very bodies now – far surpassing only spirit and soul. Each inch of ourselves is tied together and can never be taken again.

Igor, when you return, I will be ready this time.

But never alone.

Not a day more in my life – because I have love.

I have Wednesday.

And an Addams never breaks her promise.

Chapter Text

Their walk back to the cave was a lengthy one, but Wednesday would not have wanted it any other way. She ran stable paws against Enid’s back, claws lost in a sea of warmth. The psychic whimpered with a softness she never thought possible, wishing to melt away in the alpha’s form. Meshed limbs and a night united beneath the stars had never been a dream until now.

There was so much to learn from tonight, such as how Sav had been slain by a wolf of lower power – and where that rogue omega ran off to in the grove’s thickest brush. But they had until another moon to find the truth, needing only each other’s company now through the weighted calm.

Wednesday followed after the larger werewolf, ducking beneath the welcoming of trees. Stars trickled their light into the forest, a reminder of the care that attached itself to the very sky.

She noticed the way Enid limped, bearing pain that manifested far more than physical. Still, her form was newly scarred, bruises hauntingly painted against gaunt features. As they traveled northwest, Wednesday peered down at her own claws and the veins they bore. They pulsed softly, a gentle and steady entrance into a world so new.

Am I going to be this way forever? the omega thought, the feeling of her bite mark from Enid warmer and more tethering than ever. I actually like her. I like that part of this.

I’m just not sure how I’ll be able to tell everyone. I don’t even know how I got to be this way. Why am I a werewolf now, after all this time? Is it in replacement of my visions, or can I perhaps have them both?

Do I want what they both can give?

Enid turned further north, signaling with a head bow that they were close. Wednesday picked up pace, stepping forward on slender limbs. Her nose instinctually rose in the air, taking in the scents of the forest. They were overpowering yet homely in a way nothing else could do justice.

I have time to figure it out, and the person I want most to do that with is right here.

I still need to learn how to transform her back. Enid doesn’t deserve life like this forever, especially when it was my fault. If she had let me die, she would be with the ones who really deserved her.

But we’re together now, and through more than visions.

I have to let things happen and see how it all goes. I can just be here for now, and try to make it enough.

I’m about to be here for an important moment in this pack. They lost someone too – somebody they knew longer than I ever have another soul. And the thought of losing Enid’s heart with it is far too much to bear. She can grieve – she more than deserves to.

Whatever it really is for.

After much traveling beneath a fading moon, clouds settling in to claim the night in storm, the pair finally arrived at the alpha den. Several wolves already stood outside, fear swept into their forms. At the lack of a familiar and binding scent, the group hurried forward on trembling claws. They sniffed the newcomer, heads tilting at the way a friend had been replaced.

Enid did not return with the one she had left with, and her musk was of a mixed mark.

Wednesday spotted three alphas, each in coats of different colors. An elderly woman stepped out of the cave as quickly as she could manage, chasing after their cries. Her features fell upon taking in the same emptiness.

The pack’s oldest guardian ushered Enid and Wednesday inside with a deeper sadness, already understanding of what had occurred – even though the rest of the werewolves tried to lie to their very hearts.

Bones of one of the smaller ones contorted and twisted, cracking into a new shape. Wednesday winced, remembering the pain of shifting back all too well. This wolf rushed the process, desperation layering the surface of already teared eyes. A fur coat of soft gray turned to human hair and flesh, though without the gracefulness usually craved.

The man asked a question the rest of his pack had locked away in their throats.

“Where’s Sav?”

Silence met his words until Enid let out a low and solemn whimper. It was then all of them understood – 

Somebody who was more than a friend was never coming home.

He was their family and greatest protector. The heart in a pack so wild and living.

And everyone else’s hearts would forever beat a little differently because of it.

One of the wolves cried out, tears soaking the fur around his eyes. Limbs crashed into stone, horrid baying replacing all the quiet.

The only woman closed her eyes, bowing her head low. The alpha who had chosen to change back let sadness flow down his cheeks with the same mourning, one so deep and natural – yet never uncrushing.

With no one else able to speak, the oldest member of the pack answered what she knew Wednesday must be wondering as the one still furred continued to let sobs wrack his form.

“Fenrir was Sav’s true mate. Their love was one in a million, even if they were told it should never be.”

The other in human shape nodded, swallowing bile.

“When you lose your one, it’s like half of who you are is erased. They completed each other. Skull Grove accepted them like they were its family, so we did too.”

Wednesday’s head dipped toward the floor, yellow eyes scanning its surface in avoidance of seeing the weeping around her. She caught one of Enid’s tears slip onto the rock.

Sometimes there was pain in love.

But in times like these, they were left only to wonder why that was.

☾

Wednesday assimilated to pack life however she could. Though her body morphed back upon sunrise, stiff and sore from new tissue taken, Enid stayed unshifted. She dug her snout into the omega’s clothed shoulder, keeping contact as a way to ground herself in scent and presence.

It was during those days Wednesday could ask about how they found Enid, and the history of Skull Grove that stretched far before her birth. The pack finally knew their youngest member’s name, and being called by it elicited the first real tail wag since she and Wednesday had marked one another in the woods.

The rest of the group noticed their bites, which had saved the psychic in grace. They caught a whiff of their connection from the moment Wednesday first entered the alpha den, for her very fragrance combined with Enid’s most natural scent. Any wolf would recognize their love now.

They were true mates, and some of the only werewolves alive like it.

“Your girlfriend was being hunted by Igor’s pack,” Ylva began, rocking herself slowly in an old chair. Wednesday sat in an intentful listen as the rest of the group left to hunt, missing a member in impact and spirit. It made even the little things feel so hard. Sav’s smile, something Finn could only describe to the beauty it deserved, was something even she knew she would have missed. Still, she fought back an involuntary blush at the word girlfriend. But that was what Enid was to her now, and it was a promise and pact to keep forever.

“They follow his every command, and share the same goal.”

“To do what?” Wednesday asked, attempting to mask her uneasiness.

Ylva’s gaze fell to a discarded tapestry.

“To murder all alphas. He thinks we cannot love, not ever again. That our care for the world is far from existing or right.”

“Why?” Wednesday continued to press, brow slightly furrowed. Why does he want to cause so much pain? He doesn’t know Enid, and how she has all the love in the world. Far more than I’ve ever earned.

“That is his story to tell, dear, I’m afraid,” Ylva said, sighing so softly it was barely audible at all. “I see the pain in Igor’s eyes every time we cross paths. But now he knows his way back to the den, and I can’t keep this pack safe how I used to.”

Wednesday frowned, wanting to learn more of the danger that awaited. She did not even know if her wolfish side would return upon the next full moon night. For something she first wished as a curse to never inhabit her instinct and actions again, Wednesday suddenly missed the way it made her feel as though she could protect the person who would give up the very world for her.

The one that already did.

Enid, I’ll get you back to your body.

I’m doing everything I can to figure out how.

The raven’s gaze trailed to Ophelia’s journal as had it been daring to for days. It held every secret and step, even if it hurt her to access them. The tears of blood only streaked worse each time, but Wednesday could not resist.

Just as she prepared to reach for the only item in her satchel, slow footsteps entered the cave’s arch.

“We’re ready for the, uh, funeral,” Finn said, a numbness taking to his words. He could barely get the last one out without hoping he was coughing up a lie.

But it was all very real, and more than one had died with Sav.

And it was time for the next step in life without him by anyone’s sides.

Wednesday spent the time wishing it was her buried in the earth instead, just as she had been beneath Isaac’s own grave.

If she had gotten there quicker, Sav may not be dead.

There was no time for hesitation or to reach inside her bag. Ylva already began to stand, weakness accompanying her steps. Wednesday followed after the old woman, respectfully joining each failed stride.

Sav was to be buried beneath his favorite sun.

Chapter Text

Fur met the dirt, enveloping a body that once rose with gentle breaths. Enid’s wolf moved Sav’s eyelids fully shut after one final look up at the sun he cherished, and had spent so many memories and months beneath.

He let the darkness be a friend, and invited in beating hearts to fill the rest.

Fenrir’s dirtied claws reached out into the air, even after his lover had been pressed into the earth his energy was to return to. He wanted to paw at and hug his mate one final time, even though it was impossible to replicate now.

Wednesday hung by Enid’s side, her bite mark more comforting upon leaning into her. The young alpha nuzzled her chin on the psychic’s head, still staring off at the grave as though she could see through the layers of the planet and into the version of Sav she remembered best.

With the power of wolfish scent, she truly could.

I’m so sorry, Enid thought to herself in the calm breeze, feeling his gentleness in every breath of the wind.

I’ll be better.

I won’t lose anyone like this again.

But I’m doing it my way. Not yours, Igor.

Never yours.

Because he wasn’t one to take.

Sunset came quicker than the pack anticipated, bringing with it the approaching presence of a storm. The cycle of nature would soak Sav’s still form, bringing life to the soil as he lay to finally rest.

While it was still dry around them, the group sat circling a fire of Finn’s making. Ylva tried to help, though was discouraged from it by the one like a son to her.

“Don’t put your body through the stress,” Finn said, weary face finally smiling softly. It bore the look of Sav’s, one engrained into Enid’s memories – the old and the new. “Rest, Ylva. If you want to howl for him tonight, let me do this.”

The elderly woman eventually nodded, sitting on a log Lowell had dragged from a side of the forest rarely traveled. His head turned toward Fenrir, magnetized by his friend’s pain. The mourning alpha kept his chin dipped low, no new tears tracking anymore. He just breathed in the presence of the one he buried.

Sometimes it was all anyone could do without them.

Wednesday sat next to Enid in the grass, letting its cool blades wash over her. The two mates rested paw and hand on one another’s bodies, tethering their very souls alive to that moment. Wednesday’s bite was showing just above her shirt, now one disheveled and coated in a grime only inevitable out where she felt she belonged.

The mark being visible to all eyes was something she sported with pride, honored at being Enid’s everything.

The alpha could tell it by listening to Wednesday’s heartbeat, one swelling with the very feeling. She let a smile show, tail sliding against the soil.

Ylva finally sat on a moss-coated log, with Finn taking a seat next to her. He nodded his head encouragingly as she considered whether now was the time to begin the start of an alpha’s greatest custom – one tied directly to burial.

Igor had one big thing wrong about loss.

It was not just a time to grieve. Remembering and appreciating the fallen was something every species did, and it was a beautiful thing.

Celebration can be found through love, which is only tied to death. Since it is what makes missing someone so hard, it is also the key to finding oneself on the other side of it all.

Embracing and stopping for all feelings was the only way to live.

“I remember the day we let Sav into the pack,” Ylva started, beaming with a greater adoration. The group listened as the moon came back into its rightful place in the sky, firelight warming their bodies as it was meant to. Flames could heal.

“Not all of you were there then. It was just Finn, Lowell, Talia, my mother, and I. Oh, how we were overjoyed to find another wolf like us. I hadn’t seen a new alpha enter Skull Grove in years. Igor made true of his promise to haunt this place, so you can imagine my surprise upon finding red fur and a swaying tail practically on our doorstep. He was part of our family in a single blink before everyone could so much as imagine otherwise.”

Finn laughed softly at the memory.

“You should’ve seen his face when Fenrir came by not much longer after. We had just lost Talia and Joanna. It was a… rough time for the pack. But I knew everything was going to change the moment Sav melted at Fenrir’s entrance. I mean, just locking eyes was enough to make them both swoon.”

Fenrir barked in playful disagreement, losing himself in the memory of their first day. It brought joy rather than sadness for the first time it could be shared.

“Don’t think we all weren’t aware of your secret date nights,” Ylva added, smirking in her same way. Fenrir’s head lifted, an involuntary yet welcome blush landing beneath gray fur.

“You guys were so obviously crushing on each other from the start, man,” Finn said, unable to hold his laughter. “That’s just what true mates do. And it’s what I so clearly see in those two.”

Every head turned to face Enid and Wednesday, who both instantly grew flustered. Suddenly, Enid, looking over at her lover’s frazzled face, burst into what could only be described as a werewolf’s fit of laughter.

She’s so embarrassed, but she’s mine, the alpha thought, feeling Wednesday’s smile lift only when she forced her to bury her head inside the fur of her chest. Enid practically smothered the raven in love again physical, pulling her closer.

The night went on, everyone sharing stories of Sav until the first droplets of rain began sizzling their fire. Enid lifted Wednesday off her feet, carrying her with wolfish arms. She tried to object, but the scoop proved too comfortable in the coming cold. It was harsher than before – a sign the very seasons were changing.

As the pack returned to their cave, Enid was finally brought to remember the sound and feeling of Wednesday’s heartbeat slowing into sleep.

Was it how you felt, even for just one last moment? the werewolf thought, casting a final glance back at her friend’s makeshift grave. Fenrir lingered longer than even she did, dropping a bracelet of twisted grass and flowers where his wrist must have laid under the earth.

I hope your heart could slow for a final time before it did forever.

Sav, your love has carried into me.

I’m less afraid. Stronger now.

I feel ready to protect Wednesday in the way Igor thinks we never could.

A fight is coming, and that war is still mine.

But I’m ready.

When the next full moon comes, I’ll let the strength of my pack guide me into where I go.

Because I’m in a family now, and more than just with the alphas who lovingly lead my way.

It’s a pack of two.

And I think I’ve always wanted it that way.

Looking down at Wednesday on the softest edge of rest, lips slightly parted, Enid wrapped all her warmth into the girl she adored and held close.

Wednesday Addams had never looked more beautiful in her life.

Enid planted the closest thing she could to a kiss on her girlfriend’s forehead, surprised and grateful at how it did not wake her.

Even the smallest walls were already slipping down.

They grew closer, even at any loss.

Enid began to understand why love often accompanied pain – for life was meaningless without it.

Without her.

And the sounds of the forest came more alive with it.

Chapter Text

From the stars we start, and the dirt we begin again.

Wednesday Addams did not fear death for that very reason, if its poeticity was not something she ever voiced. It was losing others she desperately wished would be a moment never to come.

She fought to protect and shield everyone she loved, even when they did not see it. She hoped they never did, that way they could exist without knowing the way their suffering hurt more than her own ever could.

It was why Wednesday had never touched Ophelia’s journal since that night it brought her to Enid. The corvid in the clearing was undoubtedly a warning, or perhaps a marker into a different kind of death.

Despite how she wished to foresee the path that lay ahead, Enid could feel her pain now. They were bound together by a greater tie, hearts synced at every turn. The slightest offbeatness of hers would signal the alpha that she was hurting.

To make Enid bear any more worry was something Wednesday found worse than any end.

Weeks ago, I said that I would let things happen. That I’d allow myself to be accepted into this pack and be there for her.

Enid taught me it’s all I can do sometimes.

I don’t like that, though. It’s easier to be in control of everything, or pretend I am. But I’m not. What happened with Fenrir’s mate proved that. And his death is for none to blame, except the one whose claws chose for it.

But I’m ready to start being as much like Enid and her friend as I can try.

Truthfully, I miss my family, even if one is right here.

It’s time to go home after I finish this. I won’t be a ghost in anyone’s lives anymore. I’ve been lost for too long to go back to it again. 

Let’s hope Igor makes none of us one.

But unlike him, we don’t just haunt the shadows. It was Sav’s biggest strength, and it will be mine too.

We’ll step into the light.

I do my best work in more than the dark now.

Wednesday shut her crafted medical kit, ensuring it snapped closed in the way she planned. Inside, bark, sealing sap, and other recipes the wolves of the forest knew well awaited their use – though the pack hoped none would need to be opened again.

Igor would emerge the next day, for a final full moon was on the horizon. Strangely, Wednesday felt more wolfish than ever, instinct to protect yet follow accompanying her sudden strength. She desired nothing but to take in the world for what it truly was in all its layers, and be there for the family that shared her.

This war ends tomorrow, the psychic knew, setting her kit down with all the rest. After the shape Enid returned in the last time she came close to Igor’s grasp, there was no telling what awaited them now.

He was out for blood after losing his own, and the lives of the few who followed him that night.

But unlike you, our strength doesn’t just come on a moon.

We get it from each other. It’s why alphas are so different from the rest.

Maybe it’s why I am now too.

Wednesday slowly made her way over to Ylva, who stared off into the entrance to the den with watering eyes. The raven slid onto the floor, sitting with her hands on her knees. Wednesday avoided gazing at the oldest alpha until she shifted in closer to her guest.

She began without permission – an unspoken agreement.

“Back when I first asked you about Igor Morrow, you told me his reason for hunting werewolves like you all was his story to tell. But I think you’re wrong, and you know it. There’s something you need to say before we take on whatever we do tomorrow. I don’t think we stand a chance without it.”

Wednesday’s words were not ones of disrespect, and Ylva knew it. Still, she hesitated for a long moment, paused in pain and memory. They were meant to resurface, just as the ones of Sav did that funerary time weeks before.

“Yes,” the woman said, nodding slowly. “I believe you are right. While I cannot share it all, for there are things not even I know of his hatred, Igor’s spirit is never calmed. He lost the one who meant the most to him.”

“His wife,” Wednesday added for her. “I saw her body in a vision. Only, I thought it was a recent one until I got here. I had no idea it was an old torture.”

Ylva exhaled softly.

“All Igor wanted was a life in a place that would accept him. But when his own pack rejected him for his dreams, he was forced out to the northern border. However, instead of finding just a location to be, Igor’s life was ultimately found elsewhere. He picked somebody as his home, and the land outside these woods as his place to be alive. Jane came from up here. She was almost even one of us.”

Wednesday raised both eyebrows in surprise.

“Almost?”

Ylva nodded.

“Lowell caught her sniffing around camp decades ago. She was a lone wolf, just like all of us. We discussed bringing her to be part of the pack, even if she did not have the courage or drive to approach yet. But one day, her forages in Skull Grove ended altogether. Finn and I went after Jane, worried hunters may had finally found their way into the woods as they started to threaten. But what we saw was her with her own family, found through Igor. They wanted to be normal together, even if she was always a wolf. She brought him her photos, stories, and even her name. They were lovers beyond worlds and words. We even got to watch, and left our doors open for them if they ever wanted to pick the forest as their home.”

Wednesday bowed her head low, dreading to hear where it all went so wrong. 

She used to love dread.

“But,” Ylva continued, “we were right about one thing. Hunters were getting bolder here. Familiar boasted its normie pride like nothing else in a way it never had. The reserve growing in werewolf population – specifically alphas, always transformed or not  – caused rumor to spread, and hatred to fester like a disease.”

She paused, breathless. The next words had to be choked out of a throat so willing to close rather than lay out a terrible truth.

“We found her body laid out in the day. Lowell smelled it all the way from the den. It was laced with unmistakable pain. They left claws in the bullet wounds using discarded paws from past hunts.”

Oh, Wednesday thought, her own heart sinking in a way it never had – except when she thought Enid to be lost forever.

“I think deep down Igor knows we never did it. When shifted, he could trace the scents. But he wanted it to be the only ones he could see and blame – not the people whose village he lived in. He said that we were murderers, and abused her trust. He made it his goal to take after the ones we truthfully claimed had stolen her. We had a funeral for Jane, just as we would any of us. It was in the alpha way. But Igor saw no love because he chose not to anymore. His heart grew empty in a way I could never wish.”

“And then he started killing alphas?” Wednesday asked, leaning in closer. She could not control the chill. “Ones like Enid and Sav?”

Ylva reluctantly nodded.

“He traveled everywhere, but Skull Grove was his hotspot. We didn’t have the only cave back then. But now…”

No further words were needed to convey the implication. The thought.

The feeling of a haunted truth. Skull Grove once overflowed with many homes.

Now a single family was the only one.

“Igor has no love, Wednesday. He isn’t like you or your girlfriend. Or any of the alphas I’ve kept here. He’s a killer, and he won’t stop until he’s won – and that night will never come. Not when he chose to let himself drown in hate instead of wash over the waves.”

“We’ll stop him,” the psychic said firmly. “Tomorrow will be the last day he ever tries.”

Ylva tried to force a smile, disbelieving in a way she could not fake the opposite of. Still, hope, the clinging kind that kept from the family Igor took, lasted on. Each life brought another spark of it inside her.

“Please. I’m so old.”

It was a plea without the tears, though they soon did fall.

Wednesday nodded, messy pigtails falling further to her seated waist.

“I’ll protect all of them however I can. That includes you. You’re part of this pack.”

“So are you,” Ylva replied, smiling now. Teardrops dotted her eyelashes in such a beautiful way. Features worn with age momentarily glowed anew, wrinkles acting as scrolls of a greater history. “You’re her pack too.”

Wednesday looked up at Enid, who grinned in the corner of the cave. Fenrir’s playfulness slowly returned, inspired by Lowell’s new laughter. Finn smacked his tail against their arms, a playful reminder to keep working on their preparations for the next night.

Because in less than twenty-four hours, they would face exactly who threatened to tear them apart.

But as Igor never anticipated, he only tied them together – never alone.

I’ll fight for Enid.

For everyone I have left to lose.

And I’m going to start showing I care more than I already do. That goes for beyond just this pack.

I’m here for my family.

For her.

Enid Sinclair, finding you was the greatest thing I’ve ever done. But it started on the day we met.

I had no way of knowing all the way back on our first afternoon that we’d become what we are now.

But I love you, and it’s something I’m going to say to the ears you had to leave behind as soon as I can get them back.

You will be as you left me sooner than you know. And this fighting will not last another century more.

I call an end to the gore.

Thank you. I’m more myself than ever now that you’re here.

And I didn’t even know what was hiding before.

Chapter Text

Preparing for war was something Enid Sinclair never predicted would be in her path.

And yet, here she stood, still inwardly embraced by her wolf – and already missing the surprising warmth that radiated from Wednesday’s form. The pack had finally awoken, having spent one last moon together gathering their supplies.

The psychic had slept in her lover’s lap, despite the color of her fur.

Enid smiled softly, watching as her girlfriend helped teach Fenrir how to properly wrap wounds. Though it was their worst case scenario, they had to be ready for anything the night might have them face.

A final battle would fall with the dimming of the horizon, and not even an alpha may be safe. Whether Igor had any left to follow him was still a mystery, but being wrong about anything may doom them to an early coming of the earth.

We all have things we’re fighting for, Enid thought, eating a bitter breakfast. All food fell flat in such a wolfish throat consumed with worry, not knowing if her next bite may be the last. It felt even harder to consider leaving existence now, since she finally had everything –

Everyone she needed.

We’re doing it for this family.

I’ve only known these other werewolves for a few months, but they’ve changed me in ways I can’t ever describe.

But it’s time to go home, even if it’s one I have to find.

I’ll have Wednesday with me no matter what, and we’re never leaving each other’s sides again. The only thing that could end that pact is death, and it’s not a feeling I have toward this night.

It’s weird.

Ever since I saw Wednesday’s werewolf form in a dream, it’s like I’ve been able to tell parts of what’s coming – but only with the emotions tied to them.

Do I have psychic sight now, but tethered only to feelings rather than vision?

I don’t know.

There are a lot of things I don’t.

But I’m not facing it alone anymore.

So, Igor, make your move tonight. We’re ready for you.

And we can’t lose the thing we have that you don’t.

“Enid?” Wednesday asked, getting the attention of her mate. The alpha turned her head, instantly focused at the sound. She picked up on how the psychic’s heartbeat flared quicker than before, body growing warmer at every second closer to sundown.

Enid let out a low whine as a sign she listened.

Wednesday hesitated before continuing, moving in closer. She sat on the cold floor of the cave, gaze shifting.

“Tonight is going to go as we anticipated it. I may not have my visions anymore, not exactly, but I don’t need them to know I believe in you and what you can do.”

And us, Enid wished she could say. I love and trust in you just the same.

I have that feeling again, like I’m never going to lose you for another day of my life.

But I don’t think it would take residual powers to see that.

Maybe they’ll be permanent, like the breeze passing through – coming as a calm wave when part of me expects its chill. But even if it’s fleeting, I don’t need to rely on shared powers to show me the way.

I have somebody who can do it all the same, and she is the most remarkable human.

Enid nodded at Wednesday’s words, understanding. She bowed her head so that her lover could stroke its top, wanting so badly to say the three words that rang clearest in her mind.

She loved.

As the day passed on, the pack tried to keep a sense of normalcy – but they all knew what undoubtedly awaited them at their coming night.

A hurting omega draped in an ugly black commended the forces of the earth for an unnatural act.

As Enid stepped out into the woods, bidding a silent farewell to the last vestiges of light, she stalked into the dark with a new but prepared purpose – to protect.

“Ylva?” Finn asked, voice rising with worry. He rushed over to the old woman’s side, shaking his head as she approached. “You can’t come with us. Transforming has too many risks.”

Lowell nodded, whimpering discouragement.

The eldest alpha said nothing for a long moment, a low chill already seizing wispy hair.

“I will protect this family,” she said at last, heading back into the cave without even a following word. Finn frowned before turning to face the group, ensuring Ylva headed where she was safe. When a werewolf reached an age such as hers, transforming beneath the full moon posed so many risks. She had already done so to protect Enid, and to howl for Sav’s soul.

Alphas had an additional chance of danger due to the energy their shifting took. Death may await them rather than the life they left behind as a wolf.

Please listen, Enid thought, begging to no ears. I don’t want to lose you too.

Everything grew more final as the rest of the pack headed away. Finn and Lowell lead the group, keeping Fenrir, Enid, and Wednesday briskly trailing after them. The one at the front allowed his body to change, turning again into a werewolf with fur made up of lightest gray – despite the smallest tint of blue on his back.

Finn was a leader at heart, just like the woman who saved him.

Wednesday had still not shifted, despite how her body slowly warmed. They needed that strength, but regardless, Enid would always shield her.

It was what she had left to do.

Everything could change tonight, and yet my feelings would never falter. I have my true mate again. We’re marked. My fate is hers, and I have to keep myself alive because of it.

All of us are going to survive this.

And each of our breaths to come will be made out to Sav, the one who would’ve died again to stop another from matching his end.

Igor Morrow, we’re far more ready than you will ever know.

It’s time to end something that so far ago began.

Chapter Text

The woods seemed to quiet more than ever before, almost as though they predicted his presence.

Maybe they have, Wednesday thought, carefully following after the pack. Finn led the way, with Lowell and Fenrir planted in watch behind him. The mourning alpha walked with a slight briskness laced overpoweringly with regret, more mindful and anxious of their surroundings than anyone. Enid, meanwhile, stayed directly at Wednesday’s side. Her girlfriend was forced to be slower than them all by something more, still not shifted to werewolf form.

If I don’t change, it might kill us all. Enid needs me. I’m nothing to her like this. With being more of an outcast than any other before me. I don’t care how the world sees me – just how mine does. I don’t want Enid to feel like she could get hurt again.

My body feels like I’m ready for the change – as if it’s been preparing this entire time. And yet, the sudden ache that arrives with transformation hasn’t come.

I can’t afford to be powerless again.

Because that would mean losing Enid forever, and I’d rather die than never see her face in life. I can’t let the same hate I’ve tried so hard to rid take hold of the people I protect.

I don’t exist for myself.

I don’t think I deserve to.

Wednesday frowned, hoping Enid took no notice of it. The young alpha sniffed the encompassing air expectantly, attempting to trail any lingering scent. The group could only walk into the openness of the forest, hoping Igor – who was undoubtedly watching, or close enough to – would finally make his move.

The pack could share no words now, but they knew their mission.

If the rogue omega came with many wolves, they would split to isolate him. But if it was merely Igor alone, they could back him into a corner not even the most powerful werewolf could slip from with the aid of no other.

At first, Finn had argued that he was to lunge before them all, sacrificing himself to any demon if it was the only way. However, none could ignore Fenrir’s low cries. Though Igor had hurt them all, the most recent loss was a wound fresh enough to still smell copper from his heart.

“We’re not fighting for revenge,” Ylva had told them before they departed. “We’re doing it to save the people we love. We’ll do this how we can, and find our strength through something far from rage – even if it is what so often sparks that.”

Though the old woman had been forced back into the cave before she could join her family’s forlorn quest, Wednesday hoped Ylva would listen to them.

She’s good. A better person than I ever will be. She reminds me a lot of Enid’s most defining traits, though with my calm to balance them.

Ylva is wise. She has a lot of stories still to tell.

Maybe she even knows something about these powers, and why I’m so different.

But Ylva, you need to be alive for me to ask. Stay back. You have people ready to protect you. Let us.

Even though I know I could never do the same.

Wednesday clutched where her ribs began to pinch, sending a sharp pain across her upper half. She winced slightly, even the smallest ounce of a hidden torment enough to alert her alpha. Enid whimpered, stopping to make sure she was all right. Wednesday waved her away.

“I’m fine. Keep going.”

After a moment of staring through a heart that still beat, Enid continued at her same pace with the pack.

Wednesday let two fingers slip into the space between her ribs, tilting her head to the side. It was not the usual stab of shifting.

Something’s not right, she thought. A dull throb began to manifest in the very lines of her skull, making Wednesday sway. Despite it, she continued to follow, instantly familiar with the changing of breaths in the group.

Finn’s ears flicked up, tail suddenly slowing. The rest followed suit, something catching their attention that was invisible to even someone so aware.

“Is he here?” Wednesday asked, inching closer to Enid against her own control. Her lover reached a lycan arm in front of her, stopping the psychic from taking another step. Only half of a low growl managed to creep through Enid’s throat before other werewolves joined them, circling similarly to how they had during the pack’s described fight all those months ago.

Igor was not alone –

But Wednesday still remained regrettably human.

“Bold of you to wait until nearly the end of the night,” the raven said, staring into the shadows. Slivers of darkened colors pierced through the late hour, a stark contrast of her wolf’s eyes taking a look of surprising brightness. “You’re already running out of time.”

One more set came into view from in front of them all, bearing a look of great white. There were no irises to greet their peril.

Wednesday had been right, though – Igor waited until the last vestiges of moonlight to strike. He risked it all with such a delayed departure, but she knew there must be a reason for it.

If finding out why is all I can do like this, I have to.

Otherwise, where’s my worth in this family?

I can never fail Enid again.

It’s my fault she’s here, and I’m never going to see her suffer again.

These wolves can kill me if they want to, but they never truly could. Not because my heart is always with hers. It’s why I don’t fear what’s about to come, and can’t.

Enid shifted to the side so that her back was to Wednesday’s, the pair eyeing what lurked in the dark. Lowell, Finn, and Fenrir hissed calls of their own, prepared without a doubt to take on what would lead them to the end of a hunt they never started – but would have to end.

As one of the omegas charged forward, a bite in the dark began a fight they could never forget.

Chapter Text

Enid felt searing pain tear through her calf before she heard its howl. Monstrous cries ripped across the air, destroying the stillness that had been built by the leaving of all that was natural and right. The alphas matched those same growls, lifting claws and rising on their back legs to double their reach.

Enid tried shaking an omega off her leg, ignoring how his teeth shred through skin. Her canines were larger, and with one swift motion, she tossed the still-smaller werewolf into a nearby tree. The cedar around them could easily act as a cage if they were not careful, but Enid knew the pack had to use the woods like a maze – one they had mastered with it as their home. Trick and take advantage of it all, and they may win no matter the wolves Igor sent their way.

The young alpha realized instantly that the omega she threw off her form was the same from the previous moon, body still damaged irreparably. As claws sliced through his throat against the tree, Enid looked back to make sure Wednesday was still safe.

The rest of Igor’s pack continued their charge, though at the start most were no match for those who tripled their power. Still, the onslaught of enemies practically seemed to pour in from every direction of the woods, shattering their very sanctuary. Wednesday remained where Enid had left her, eyes wide – yet fierce. She saw the way her mate protected her, wishing she could so easily do the same again now.

Though Igor’s eyes had just been visible in the dark, they were nowhere to be seen now.

Show yourself, Enid thought at their vanishing, shaking another beta off her back. Bones snapped against trees and foliage, even the sturdy ones of werewolves splitting at such strength. The increasing number of them still swarmed the forest, despite their enemies’ force.

Finn snapped canid jaws, rearing his head to the side. Two omegas rushed toward him, immediately scrambling back onto scarred feet when he bit them away.

Wednesday stepped back, sliding a thin knife out from the buckle of her shoe. A beta aimed its claws directly for her heart, but she twisted away from his charge – managing only a seemingly small cut against his snout with the weapon. Tissue still moved in two, ripping at his nose. Blood sensitively gushed from it before he could react, choking on his insides.

The wolf was more furious than ever, swaying at how his senses had been maimed. Enid, ignoring the way claws dug into her own veins, sprinted toward her lover. She threw herself at Wednesday, knocking the beta off what little balance he could manage. Enid lashed her canines into wolfish flesh, tearing apart muscle as her enemy could only let out one final and feral whine.

She saw how her mate looked at her now, very soul and eyes brimming with admiration. Wednesday did not see a beast, but rather something far from it. The sort of kindness and adoration that could never be possible from anyone else.

Wednesday would never fall in love with a monster. It went against her very code, violating all the good she had ever done… and was made for.

She fell for beauty and power, the combination which thereof was Enid Sinclair.

The young alpha blinked past the splattering of blood not her own. Her heart picked up every so slightly as it synced with Wednesday’s yet again in a way it only had the last time she got that close.

Before Enid could do anything more, however, she saw the way the rest of her pack bolted. They suddenly ran after a dark tail into the woods, escaping through the night.

No, Enid thought desperately, seeing as their brawls led them away. Fenrir scratched the thighs of his foes, only angering them further. An iron and copper scent caked his lips. He was the first to notice black fur blend into the night, chasing after the one he thought was his to claim.

Lowell and Finn had followed, believing they too were locked on their primary target. Dead omegas and betas lined the decaying grass of Skull Grove, crimson mixing with cracked soil.

Don’t go. He’s still here!

Though there were a million smells overwhelming them all now, both from the alive werewolves and many strewn corpses already forgotten, Enid would always recognize the scent of the one who tried to take her away from the person she loved most. She could sense and isolate it in a crowd of millions.

Igor Morrow caught her and Wednesday while they were alone, the pack misled by a false foe.

The real midnight omega hobbled forward, identifying their odors all the same.

Enid practically roared, watching as he emerged on bulking legs.

The hatred of even her friends may have taken them away, but she was guided by the very heartbeat that stabled her.

It matched her own, even now.

And it fueled something greater.

Just three living souls in the woods remained, but two stood stronger than the one.

As Enid and Igor took off to face each other at an identical moment, a clash of something deeper than claws could finally begin.

It could either spell the end of a thousand souls, or spark an affinity for them. Enid already had her own now.

As she looked back at eyes unseeing, Enid knew Igor had already lost his.

But with her own spirit now tethered to a body that depended on it, the alpha understood she could never be sacrificed again.

Because none of them ever possibly would.

Chapter Text

Watching Enid give up life and limb broke a piece of Wednesday she initially struggled to know was ever there.

A tiny part of herself seemed to shatter, viewing at first helplessly how Igor dueled.

The omega needed no words to convey his fury as rage dominated each movement. His longest fangs acted as knives flaunted from darkened gums, destroying every inch of Enid they could reach. She howled in utter agony, throwing him off her side. Their bodies collided against the forest, though far from with the grace and softness they had when Wednesday did so on that last night in wolven shape.

Enid fought back, powered by more than herself. The psychic felt part of her very spirit pouring into the alpha, turning her more werewolf than ever – yet alive with the memories of the human Wednesday hoped would return when they were both free.

Enid brandished her claws, slicing the side of Igor’s face in the dirt. He convulsed as though he were trapped and frenzied prey, snapping his jaw – even as she tried to close it. A bestial roar caused spit and bile to speck the omega’s matted face. It fell back upon him.

Still, Igor’s senses remained stronger than hers, a replacement for his lack of sight. He waited for the very scent of Enid’s strength waning from the struggle of holding him down before the omega aimed a forceful kick against hollow ribs, skidding the alpha back. Igor could detect the very workings of her heartbeat, and knew too well the smell of her mark.

Wednesday and Enid were bound together by mixed blood now, and he thought it would be their undoing.

No chance, the raven thought, grimacing at how a new surge of force fought away inside her. It was the same discomforted feeling as before, but activated tenfold. Wednesday’s hands violently trembled, sensing her body and brain about to shift. The very sight of Igor pummeling her alpha unlocked a fury found only in love.

But unlike with Igor, this was the kind that would not destroy anyone.

It only made Wednesday better inside.

A deep howl already sounded through the woods, causing the two brawling werewolves to slow. Every muscle tightened as Wednesday’s own came loose, replaced by the kind a true werewolf sported with pride.

There was no shame to be found in self, no matter how different one really was.

Tissue slid into place, morphing her into the wolf she accepted the aid of without hesitation anymore. If the feelings she never chose to truly face could save her lover, Wednesday would do anything to never lie or hide herself again.

I don’t know what I truly am, or why I’m like this, Wednesday thought, quickly transforming into a mass of darkness in that last half hour of night. The pain nearly made her double over, but she did not mind it. She welcomed what truth it brought. But I don’t need to understand it all. Enid, though once the question, is the answer. Who I am is who she needs.

I never wanted her to change, so why do I want myself to live so oppositely?

Our differences will save us, and bring together what has been tried so hard by others to get pulled apart.

It was at that Wednesday’s werewolf appeared in the midst of struggle, fully formed. The omega lashed teeth at her foe, instantly rushing to launch him into the earth. Though their power fairly matched in both status and structure, she was brought into shape by something much more. Enid made way to her lover’s side, sniffing the scent she once could only chase. Both women panted heavily, engulfed by their wolves.

It was what would save them – and a second soul.

The alpha brushed a paw against Wednesday’s arm, almost as though she desired to feel whether she was real or not. Like if a woman of such beauty, power, and self truly existed, and that she got to love her. Enid’s search ended on making sure her girlfriend was all right, knowing the pain she doubtlessly felt from transforming. Wednesday bowed her head low, accepting of the touch. Large, lycan eyes of magnetizing yellow practically pulled Enid into the orbit of her own blinking sun.

Let’s do this, Wednesday thought, communicating it with only a feeling.

Enid nodded, leaving her half embrace. The two lovers stood side by side, bearing the canines they bore with pure pride. Igor crawled back onto unsteady feet, rising from where he had been thrown harshly into soil. Spit bubbled from by his lips, body nearly rabid.

This time, it was Wednesday who struck first.

Her fur was a similar color, but that darkness was the welcomed kind. Igor was evil – or at least allowed himself to be without thought. He frantically swung both claws forward, slicing the other omega through the shoulder. Wednesday hissed, though showed no other reaction to the sting. Blood beaded at the wound site, springing Enid into action. Her mouth connected with flesh, extended teeth impaling a malicious mark. Igor recoiled, nearly spasming from the torment of it. Wolven knuckles made contact with her snout in retaliation, sending the alpha back several steps. Wednesday used the distance to make another move, driving Igor to the trees his back only grew closer to. One was split, and it was that log the psychic eyed.

If I can get his back on it, we’ll be able to hold him there. He’ll get too scratched by the splinters and roots to move without maiming himself into death.

Enid, I hope you’ll be able to tell what I’m doing.

Wednesday kept from rushing forward. Instead, she only barked, pushing Igor as far back as she could manage through only her sound and presence. He growled, the vibrations rising from deep within such a scarred throat. She took notice of the way his face was so wounded, the omega never having refused a fight before.

You want to kill all alphas, and yet you’re after me too.

You’ll murder anyone that gets in the way. You have no code, at least not anymore. Your grief had no reason to make you a killer, Igor. And your blood debt should have only been to the ones who stole her, rather than the wolves you were told you had to hate.

This ends now, and I think you know it.

Igor stepping on a twig now – snapped in two – was the signal. At his proximity to the broken stump, Wednesday bolted to try toppling him over with pure force. Enid ran forward with her, though divulged to the side. They reached for the old omega’s neck and torso, each sharing a half. Igor was slammed against the rough wood, snout held strained and high. The blind werewolf struggled, claws barely able to raise without his back growing gruesomely cut.

Got you.

Wednesday’s wolf felt rage against her will, squinted eyes moving in closer. Enid’s tongue flicked in and out of her mouth, breaths surprisingly cold.

Igor could be theirs to kill.

And they would end the cycle for good.

With just one ill-fated claw stab, and his throat would pour from a type of blood similar to what had left Sav. Wednesday saw his body, and the way it lay so hauntingly still. If Igor wished this end on so many, surely part of him knew it would one day catch up to himself instead.

Alphas and even their omegas had suffered so much.

The raven, feeling a sense of defensiveness against any that dared try to take her from Enid again, raised even just one wolfish finger. She prepared to hold it against Igor’s neck, slitting it to cease all screams. Her alpha held him still, and she was so close to ceasing it all –

…until a familiar and dreaded call tore through the forest.

Wednesday did not see the enemy werewolf until he had already ripped her off her feet. Enid practically roared, head turning toward the force. It was the same omega she thought she killed back in the clearing mere minutes ago. He still pulled back from death, even after losing one of his own – and being so close to Igor joining his friend.

Enid instinctively tried to sprint toward him to protect her mate, but Igor lifted himself from the stump. He used all the force his body could take out to bite her leg. Teeth wrapped around the young alpha’s ankle, despite how she shook it.

Wednesday had been brought to the forest floor, dazed in a way she could not fight. Her skull, even one embiggened by wolf shape and strength, had made hard contact with the rocks. Blood sluggishly shimmered against the side of her head, and Enid fought to rip through the hold of bitter fangs.

The approaching omega limped forward on two bad legs, undoubtedly broken by foliage and bark.

He came toward her, inching closer to Wednesday’s wolf. Just as the man tried to swallow her whole in his fury, however, a new coat entered the night. Enid's head instantly perked up to the flash of fur, blinking past the stars that now danced in her vision from the agony of Igor’s wrapped maw. Even he dropped that hold upon seeing the one who joined them.

A coat of tan and silver shine sprang at their attacker, killing him in an instant through a decided bite in the back. Chunks of fur and body came way at her teeth separating them from bone, causing the intruding omega to stagger. He collapsed without a second breath, eyes rolled into the back of his head – though his lids never shut.

Ylva howled into the last moments of night, fierceness enough to pull Igor away from his first target. The brutal omega stepped toward that older wolf, pacing. He recognized her smell without any doubt.

Ylva had come to save them after all, even at the cost it could have for her.

I would’ve done the same, Wednesday thought as she reoriented herself, rising from her spot in the grass.

Loving Enid is too easy to think of anything else.

Chapter Text

Enid felt canines loosen from her leg at the entrance of the largest alpha of all – the one who had seen and been so much.

Ylva, no, Enid begged inside herself, wolf form nearly crumpling. Igor had left her instantly, sifting to rummage for better prey. The two tumbled in the long grass, with the old woman landing several surprisingly intense blows. Her beast fought hard to defend them, even though there was a sense of sadness in watercolor eyes.

Despite her power being unmatched by even the strongest others of their kind, Ylva ran into the issues she often so subtly described – and Enid knew all too well now. Her age debilitated her on such moons, limiting her transformations. Though she was not necessarily bound by it, its fleeting in the sky was certainly of no aid now. Igor’s decision to ambush at that moment was a risky one, but for the first known time… it helped him.

His pain, brutish and long bruised, bubbled to the surface at every swipe and bite. Ylva managed to make the skin under both his eyes black, blending it into fur. Scars shone, seeming to somehow dig deeper. Igor, using all his hatred, got the upper hand over the oldest alpha for the small moment he required.

Ylva, claws digging into Igor’s back, felt her own slam against a tree. Her head whipped against its wood, causing her to slump forward. Limbs fell loosely. The rogue omega growled, slipping out from her slack form. He extended a lycan arm to his target, only for Enid to return the same act. Igor let out an animalistic yelp of his own wolf’s making, spinning to the side at the way Enid impaled him. Though it was not a lethal strike, it was enough to send all nerve endings firing with disbelief.

The light of the moon waned, giving way to a new dawn.

Igor and Wednesday were running out of time. Minutes remained, with their friend now more vulnerable than ever on the grass. She was not moving.

Still, they had the advantage of Igor having been beaten, his body forcibly shaking. The anger remained, only made worse by his injuries. They were far from only physical, with past scars noticeably burned deep.

This isn’t the way to go, Enid thought to herself, pausing for a moment to breathe. Igor stood on the other end of the forest batch. Sunlight started to creep over his shoulder, brightening the horizon. With its ascension left the moon, slowly losing its glow. Though it would return the following day and all that came next, there was no guarantee any of them would live to see it now.

Even if we kill Igor here, it won’t end anything.

He tried to murder me. He ended the life of one of my best friends. A soul I should’ve been able to get to know so much longer. I should be the one to do it. But I know Wednesday, and this isn’t what she truly wants either. She may love the darkness, but there’s a kind not even she’ll tap into unless she has no other option.

I don’t think that’s our only one anymore.

And there’s much more to Igor than this pain he harbors. Even if I can't ever forgive him, and I shouldn't have to. I won't.

But I have one chance.

One moment when he shifts back, made human by form.

Or, well… she does. It’d be Wednesday’s opportunity. I can’t say much of anything anymore. Not unless I change back. But will that day ever come? I feel so trapped and yet so free. I don’t know which part of me is who last saw moonlight in human clothes.

Maybe I won’t be the same. I don’t know.

But I will never become Igor Morrow.

I’m not going to stoop that low. A new pack would always come after us, wanting to avenge the one they thought they lost instead. He has to be a messenger – a heart hurting of hope, but willing to die in it.

I don’t know exactly who he lost, but it’s why he’s doing this.

Ylva said a few things.

But I need Wednesday to share those words. To know how I’m feeling, and why I want this. It’s what the world needs more than anything now.

One more tombstone isn’t going to change the way we as outcasts see anything. We’re not the enemy. Not each other, unless we make it that way.

I’ll let the light come back without fear. I’ll lose Wednesday in what I thought was going to be her strongest form – what matched me. But honestly, what’s different about her is where I really draw my own strength.

Know what I want us to do, Enid pleaded. When you both can’t be this way anymore, talk to him. Get him to go away from here and not return in a way that death could never give. Anyone he has left won’t come running that way.

And we’d have a home again for good.

As sunlight caved in, collapsing into the very sky, Wednesday and Igor fearfully found themselves switching back to the bodies they perhaps thought they could leave behind forever – even if just in a moment.

But you shouldn’t want that, Enid thought to herself, not rushing toward the one who became just a man now.

You’re perfect just as you are, Wednesday.

And I need you to save us now.

In a way I never could.

You’re my balance, and the side that can win this how I won’t.

I love you. And just as importantly, I trust you. Every choice you make. Every breath you let leave.

Fix this how you see fit. I just hope it’s how you’ve said I’ve guided you, and not what the world says you need to be.

They’re so wrong.

You’re not missing love – you radiate it.

That’s your real power.

And I love you because of what no one else sees.

Chapter Text

Enid had ceased her attack as pain shot through both Wednesday and Igor. They could not cling to their moonly forms any longer, being shackled away into the sun. The psychic kicked and fought at her turning, though there was nothing she nor her adversary could do.

Wednesday’s hair flowed freely down her back now, braids having been undone upon the change. She gasped and sputtered in a way so unlike herself, truly grappled by the agony. Igor wholly felt the same torture, despite how it was one he experienced each month. The other omega crumpled to the floor, trying to rise on shaking limbs. As Wednesday attempted to rush toward him on what little balance she could muster, the raven caught sight of Enid’s telling stare.

Wait.

That look in her eyes, one so easily readable by only the beloved, spelled out a thousand words and thoughts.

I trust you, Wednesday said to herself, though communicated it without speech. They had no requirement for it, not when they were so bound by breath. Enid bowed her head low, signaling for Wednesday to approach Igor on slow steps. The man’s clothes were tattered and worn, seemingly from long before the swap. Just as his wolf bore, Igor’s face was endlessly covered in thornful scars. His eyes stayed the same white, and despite not taking in the sight of the women before him, Igor could smell and hear their love all the same.

Marks made a werewolf couple more clear to the world, serving as an outward and unending reminder of a permanent pact.

For the first time, Igor now had words.

Although Wednesday wondered if that would even change anything at all.

Enid trusts me to do something.

Does she want me to talk him out of it? I can’t. These are his choices. Igor doesn’t deserve to go unpunished.

Except, maybe he can still face his penance – just not as he so commonly practiced.

“You’re not going to hurt us anymore,” Wednesday said, stepping in front of her mate. She guarded Enid protectively, despite being less than half the strength. She would protect her lover against every bruise, saving the werewolf from the calling of any cut.

Igor tilted his head to the side, laughing dryly. Words crackled inside his throat like a dying flame preparing to leave cinder for good.

“You’re hardly an alpha, and yet you expect that you could seriously beat an omega of greater power than even you? I can catch the scent of your wolf now gone. You’re new, but not in the way of any other. You didn’t use to be one of us – and you don’t know how to feel about it.”

Wednesday’s stare did not falter.

“We both know brute strength will only get you so far like this,” she continued. “It’s determination you pull from. The rageful kind.”

Igor growled, despite being in human form. His mannerisms stayed feral, embedded far due to that hate.

“You don’t know anything of this war,” he began, skulking forward. Wednesday moved in closer all the same, yet was careful to not close the gap. “You’re hardly even a werewolf. In fact, I don’t think you really know what you are. But this goes deep, and it won’t end with just your blood. You made the choice to bond with an alpha, so you will pay the price of one. I cannot let another such as me exist in this world.”

Another like him?

He must not want anybody to follow in his harrowing footsteps. Igor fell in love with an alpha, and lost one because of it. He thinks they can never love.

But he’s wrong.

“I know what happened to Jane,” Wednesday dared to say, her stance reflecting her fearlessness. Enid only stood taller, taking in the sight of her tangled yet beautiful hair. It coursed down her back effortlessly, winding rivers of a natural smoothness.

“You don’t understand anything at all,” he bit back. “Her life and loss are exactly why the world deserves this. YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO LOVE!”

Igor ran forward wildly, trying to land a hit. In his weakened state, all Wednesday needed to do was twist to the side. He panted heavily, dizzied by the shift. Though the psychic felt that same pain, she was stabled by Enid’s steady breathing. It grounded her in all that was real. Important. It proved everyone wrong on what was right.

“They’re all the same, and they’ll turn on her too. IT’LL ONLY HURT! KILL YOU! LEAVE YOU WISHING YOU WERE THE ONE DEAD, BUT YOU CAN’T. BECAUSE YOU HAVE A DUTY, EVEN IF IT’S ONE YOU WEREN’T MADE FOR.”

Wednesday dodged another feeble punch, Igor now collapsing completely on the forest floor. The gray in his black hair seemed to reflect the growing sunlight as it rose in the distance, slowly filling the space with a gentle light. And yet, it was overpowering as a symbol of what was to come.

“I could say it a thousand times and you still wouldn’t believe it,” Wednesday began. “But those alphas didn’t kill Jane. Hunters did. Ones like what you’ve become. You went out here searching for a life, yet robbed yourself of one. Would she have wanted you to keep killing mercilessly without a goal? You’re not protecting this place. You’re severing it. You’re now nearly inseparable from the ones who took her.”

Igor roared, the sound still wolfish in his throat. His barreling forward came to a forced end as he fell one final time, anger catching up to his lack of strength.

Wednesday bent down, ignoring his groaning.

“You’re wrong about us. I love Enid in ways I thought I never could. She’s made me a better person, even when I believed there was nothing to change. But you are right about one thing – I don’t know what I am. These powers are something I never predicted and foresaw. Someone is leading me here, and I haven’t been the same since my fate with Enid’s was sealed. But for the first time, I don’t feel like I need to control everything. Just like you couldn’t save her. It wasn’t your fault you were deceived. But now that you have the truth, and truly have for so long, you can’t keep spreading your hurt or known lie. I’m sorry about what happened to Jane. Though I only saw her once in a vision, I know she meant the world to you. She was your hope to move past everything you’d faced. She would still want you to, Igor.”

The omega frowned, face fierce. His chest rose and fell rapidly, uncontrollable and feral. Still, he had nothing left but to listen to Wednesday’s demand.

“You’ll leave Skull Grove and never come back. You won’t lay a single claw on anyone who’s different than what you expected them to be. We’re not killers. And if you don’t stay true to your promise, we’ll come find you. This whole pack will.”

Igor’s gaze fell against the dead leaves, rotting in piles beneath him. He hesitated for a long moment, saying nothing at all. Just as Wednesday thought he may never speak again, the man opened withered lips. He knew when he had been defeated in a way never identically accomplished before.

“If you’re truly as you say, you’ll leave too,” he replied, avoiding the psychic’s eyes. “You two have a home, and it’s not here. I can smell it on you, even from months ago. If you think your love can really guide you, you’ll find somewhere else to be. This place is not mine to claim, and it isn’t yours either. You’re made for something more. Something I never let myself reach. Prove you aren’t like me or those who killed my wife. I’ll depart only if you’re never the new me.”

Wednesday moved to sit before him, seated on her knees. Enid growled in vague warning, ready in case Igor repeated his fury. And yet, the way he laid on his side so limply displayed his weakness. He was tired, and from more than transforming back.

Has this been something he’s always considered, but thought he never could without her blessing? Well, Igor has ours. This can never go on again.

And we are allowed to love.

“There’s pain in it,” Wednesday began slowly. “Caring. I’ve always closed myself off, and sometimes I think it’s because I wasn’t able to handle it. But staying here and hunting will do nothing but fuel your hate. You said we have a home, so go find yours. It’s not here. I don’t think it has been in a long time. Leave Familiar and Skull Grove behind. This pack you brought here was never truly yours. I didn’t smell it either. You don’t have to forget about Jane – it’s far from that. But you’re never allowed to maim anyone ever again. Not even falter a feeling. No alpha will ever be your enemy. Do you understand?”

Igor paused before nodding, the movement surprisingly sedate.

He rose on unsteady limbs, brushing the soil off his clothes. The sun already sparked a flare in Wednesday and Enid’s vision, everyone now embraced by light. Igor felt it warm against his mercilessly dry skin, body paling.

He left into the woods, peering back one final time to catch the feeling and sensory traits left behind by Skull Grove – and the two women who had been part of what saved it.

Wednesday could finally breathe, understanding much deeper down that his exit was indeed a final one.

Igor Morrow would never return to haunt Skull Grove, or the basis of any other haven.

Just as he departed, fallen but born anew, Wednesday heard the shifting of bones behind her.

Because Enid Sinclair was finally changing back.

Chapter Text

“Enid,” Wednesday let out through a breath, exhaling softness at the sight that changed her.

Her girlfriend and true mate, the one she searched so long for even when the world doubted her look, finally stared back at her with eyes so oceanic. Enid felt different both inside and out, yet Wednesday’s gaze did not fall upon her with any disdain or care for it.

Sunlight continued its pouring.

“Your… hair,” Wednesday said suddenly, realizing with a start that Enid’s return to form strayed far beyond just the weakness of a shift long waited for. The alpha lifted several fingers to touch what had since grown long and unkempt, draped in a natural brown instead of her familiar white.

“You’re bleeding, and the first thing you think about is that my hair isn’t the same anymore?” Enid said with a gentle laugh. She beamed so genuinely that the light almost wrapped itself around her smile. Her voice, though hoarse from long unuse, was still everything to the one who missed it more than anything.

“Wednesday Addams, you really are an enigma.”

The psychic stood before her in a shock that was surprisingly stabilizing. Bird calls had returned to the woods at last, a symbol of their peace.

I’m going to do what I should have long ago.

There’s nothing and no one, not even myself, holding me back anymore.

Enid Sinclair leaned forward, resting her hand on Wednesday’s crimsoned cheek. Their lips touched, sending a thousand stars falling with it. The omega’s eyes went wide at the moment of contact, though slowly slipped shut upon the realization. They were in love with each other, and nothing could ever change that. The kiss sent their marks buzzing, radiating a greater warmth in such chilled trees.

The second they pulled apart, they both went back in, sharing the same sync. All the pain of months away and scarred endured seemed to dissipate without a further thought, not in such beautiful seconds.

Wednesday found herself basking in the contact for the first time she ever had for anyone. Enid saw a greater strength in herself now that she acknowledged what had been there all along – the kind of yearning one was present for since the start.

They were more powerful than a thousand battles and the forces which contained them. Their spirits were of love, intertwined in a bite and kiss. The things that would normally hurt felt sickly sweet now, enveloping them both.

Worries of a tomorrow never came, not now. Not how they ever had, at least. Though Wednesday’s shoulder still bled, ripped by canines now never brought out again, and Enid’s body ached from forces against her control, things seemed more perfect than ever before.

“I love you,” Enid said tearfully as they both leaned back for a breath, fueled by one another’s gaze. Wednesday’s hair seemed to grow more frizzled and loose, though for this only time in her life she did not fight to fix it. There was nothing that needed to be changed about this moment or each other.

It was right.

Which is weird for something everybody my entire life has tried to tell us was wrong, Enid thought, peering down at her hands. After months, they were soft without fur.

Alphas existing freely as they were meant to.

Two women together how we are.

I don’t know the magic behind any of this. Why I was chosen as the benefactor of this power. If I might ever wolf out again. If Wednesday and I are really safe, or if Igor was right about it all. 

…I don’t think he was.

He’s not coming back to haunt us again. Not in this life or the next.

She and I will always find each other, and I won’t be able to look at it all the same.

I’ve tried my whole life to exist how I wasn’t meant to. But to have this chance now? I don’t care if it’s messy or hard. It’s more real than anything in the entire world. She’s the storm cloud that blesses the earth, revitalizing its surface and filling its soil fresh.

To Wednesday, I think I’m the sun that shines all the extra away.

We’re what we need, ourselves and each other.

Enid swallowed what had once been holding her back, letting the saliva of her old self slide down a throat that would be reborn anew. Her voice would only be one of protection, never riddled with words she did not mean.

The slight breeze reminded them both of Ylva, still limp behind the pair. Enid grabbed Wednesday’s hand after a look of gentle permission, so conscious of every boundary. They read each other through any look and any word.

The old alpha was still breathing.

Thank god, Enid thought to herself, supplying warmth to Wednesday’s palm.

The two of them still bled, and their protector – a woman whose path mirrored their own – lay hurt.

But I’m not scared of any of the unknowns anymore.

I’m not in this alone.

I have a pack how I was meant to.

What means it all to me.

We’ll heal with each other, how it ought to be.

And none of the changes will mean a single thing.

Chapter Text

Things were different now.

Before Wednesday had met Enid Sinclair, that seemed to be a bad thing. Every little change signified something so much deeper, trapping her in part of the world’s most vicious cycle no vision could even puppet.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.

Wednesday remembered their last day in the cave better than anything. They had returned that rainy morning, Enid cradling Ylva as she struggled to open thin lids. Her breaths, though ragged and uneasy, were aware.

The psychic slowly nodded, hoping Ylva heard the subtle movement. Her respect for the elder ran deep, and hoped it was the kind that would never grow forgotten in a thousand lives.

Finn, Lowell, and Fenrir had met them back where they started, the former gushing with grief.

“We left you guys,” he choked out. “We were so focused on killing him that we didn’t even — we didn’t try –”

“It’s all right, Finn,” Enid said, her words a new calm. She clasped a still-trembling hand on his arm. “We’re safe. All of us. That’s what matters now.”

After laying Ylva down onto cushions as soft as they could craft, the two women sat beside a small table. Enid exhaled, finally able to soothe her body and brain of their pacing. It felt strange to see the world in this way – through a lens of humanity, though forever changed by wolves.

Wednesday could tell by the look in her pale eyes that Enid welcomed the difference.

Hoping her girlfriend did not hear the clatter, the young raven opened one of the medical boxes the pack had put together before. She could not help the small hiss of breath that escaped lips so forcefully parted by pain, grimacing at the way her shoulder puncture ached. Enid’s head turned to face her instantly, brow furrowed.

“Wednesday?” she began. The alpha’s hands hurried to take the makeshift bandage from her lover’s shaky grasp. “Let me help with that.”

Her omega tried to shake her head, but Enid already began to work. She sifted through the tin for stitching supplies, closing the wound after a cleansing. Wednesday stayed still as her girlfriend gently healed her, though felt a faint blush spread like sunlight across her skin.

Enid smiled softly as she ran the needle through, eventually patching up with cloth and soaking every bloodied towel.

I can’t stay silent for long.

“Enid?” Wednesday asked without clear reason to start. The alpha let out a quiet hum of acknowledgement, so focused on fixing what had been torn.

“I wanted… I wanted to say thanks.”

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“No. No, I do. I’m sorry for the way I couldn’t find you at first. I never stopped looking, but it wasn’t enough. I hope you’re not too hurt. And if there’s anything I can do to make up for my mistakes… just tell me.”

A beat of indignant shock passed.

“What?” Enid replied, putting her hand on Wednesday’s after a gentle blink of acceptance. “You weren’t wrong about anything.”

Her girlfriend’s gaze fell, trailing against pebbles. She was lost like this.

“I couldn’t reach you. I made a promise that day to be with you first thing in the morning to let you out of those cages. I wasn’t. I wasn’t there.”

Enid leaned in closer, stroking her palm as Wednesday unfurled a closed fist. It was never one shut with grief or anger, but rather fear. Fear of what anyone may see if she let the softest part of her flesh and soul out into the open. It would scare some, but not her alpha. It never could.

“In a way, you kept your promise,” said Enid. “Think about how many more sunrises you’ll be here for with me. They wouldn’t mean nearly as much without finding you the way I did. You saved me, Wednesday.”

“I could say the same.” A warm smile, the kind that others tried so badly to bury beneath their own cold, trickled to the surface. The psychic meant that very look, and no feeling could ever cover it.

A long bout of silence passed, though it was far from empty. Both women took in the sounds of each other’s breaths, which no longer rattled against uneasy ribs. Enid had returned to her wound cleaning, wiping Wednesday’s form of all the grime that clung to it. No further blood would ever stain that same cloth.

It was while the werewolf was halfway through rebraiding the raven’s hair that Wednesday spoke again.

“What do you think is going to happen next?” A pause. “I guess I just mean… What do you want to?”

Enid frowned slightly, thinking. All of this came with so much. The weight of the world’s thoughts on their relationship and that change could impact everything. They did not fully understand Wednesday’s shift, not yet. The way a crow guided her to where her lover wandered was additionally unexplainable, and Enid was unable to grasp the implications after she properly told her of that night.

They had a lot to talk about, but that was the great thing about a discussion.

It did not happen with one alone.

On that dawn, Wednesday made a new promise, and it was one Enid had that strange feeling-sight about again. It was like her sharing of those powers presented into what was identifiable the easiest for the alpha – emotion. Now that Enid did not shy away from any piece of it, those looks into the future were far easier to understand.

She knew it would be okay, regardless of how of how any saw them.

Still, Enid answered, even though they both truly knew her response now.

“We’ll go see everyone we left behind. Tell them as much as they want to know. But some things… they’ll be kept between us. What we want to know. And we’ll see what happens. We can’t map it all out or act like we know how it’s going to end. But we can watch. Play a part. Keep going.”

She peered behind her own shoulder, letting her fingers fall loosely in Wednesday’s new braids. Enid caught a glimpse of the other alphas, readying themselves for a new day ahead. For the first time in decades, it would truly be a restful one.

“I’m going to miss them.”

It was Wednesday’s turn for more intimacy, and despite how she rarely favored it, the psychic leaned back against her lover’s body. Enid’s face grew flushed, though she effortlessly basked in the touch.

“I know. I will too. They’re good people,” the raven began. “Strong. Some of the best I’ve met. But this… It doesn’t have to be goodbye. It won’t. Not forever. They taught both of us so much, but especially me. I am grateful they accepted you.”

Enid smiled, feeling her shoulders rise and fall with each exhale.

“Yeah,” she began. “And you. They were our pack for a time, but not forever. I think they’ve always known that. I think we did too. We got our sanctuary, and I’ll never be able to thank them enough for it. Wednesday, I was… I was so scared. I’m glad you guys saved me from what I did. We’ll find your family again. I hope people can see us as how we left them, but also something more.”

Wednesday nodded, completely agreeing in her very soul.

“They don’t even have to like what they see. What matters is we do.”

Enid beamed.

“There’s that Addams no fear of judgment. I could still learn a thing or two.”

“You will,” Wednesday started softly. “Because you’re one of us now.”

Enid’s heart picked up at those words. She had a family – one that she formed by love rather than circumstance. It made everything more powerful, each sentiment multiplied tenfold to a breath.

I’m Enid Addams.

Forever and always.

Despite the words I’ve been told all my life.

It would be what forged them together deeper than they already had gone. Against all hardship and throughout all challenge, the love of two women would forever remain such a powerful thing.

It was after the pair had time to heal that Enid sprung the question.

“Does your family know that you’re here?”

Wednesday hesitated for a long moment before answering, ending up only with the faint shaking of her head.

“They only knew for a time, but… no. Not anymore. Not where I am now.”

Enid frowned gently, placing her hands in Wednesday’s again.

“I think it’s time we go back. We did make a promise to leave here, but it’s something that was a long time coming. Our home is somewhere else, even if this was our haven.”

Her girlfriend nodded, lifting a hand to stroke Enid’s dark hair. It was a beautiful sight, so colored richly with the hues of the forest. It let her blend into the night, soaking up its support.

“We’ll find a home in every woods,” Wednesday said quietly. “We’ll keep doing this our way.”

And it was something they both swore.

Chapter Text

Returning to life felt strange now that it was so open. They were so open.

Wednesday wore her shirts so that the collar showed her bite, one that was everbinding. Enid’s hair was not dyed back. Not for a while. And when it eventually was, the colors bore new meaning.

The psychic reunited with her family, Morticia cradling Wednesday’s head in her cool hands.

“Oh, my beautiful daughter, we were so worried about you.” Tears stung at the edge of her vision, blurring the sight that was just a dream mere days before.

The raven promised her family she would stay by their side, and reintroduced them to their newest member.

It was a fresh start, one they all accepted.

Saying goodbye to the pack was the hardest thing.

Enid had embraced them wholly, head buried in their fur. One by one, Ylva, Finn, Lowell, and Fenrir bid farewell in their own way. Ylva shared some of the stories she never got to tell. She said more would come once they met again on a day so inevitable for it. Finn shifted into werewolf form to howl at their departure, baying loudly into the world. His last words to them were ones he said would never truly be final, not when they would see each other in a future line. Lowell and Fenrir shared so much through just their eyes and tender openings of their hearts, softness present in such burly claws.

“There’s still so much for us here,” Ylva said as they started to leave. “There’s hope those two will be able to have the freedom we do in our forms. There’s more life and chainlessness for them still to find.”

Wednesday believed it with her very soul.

Enid kissed the psychic on the cheek as they sat down in the Addams manor, now changed into better clothes. They both had so much to find out, but that was the best part of having a true mate.

Choices were never of any real worry again.

Mistakes would not be ones to suffer from alone.

And the good memories, those times of peace and fulfillment, would have all the more value.

In their first hours back home, Wednesday and Enid chose to tell Agnes of their travels. She appeared over crystal ball, mouth agape at the sight of her friend so altered. Still, she smiled at the genuine joy she could sense from the wolf.

They told her everything – all they possibly could.

“And then Wednesday turned into a werewolf again and totally kicked their butts. We won’t be seeing any more of Igor Morrow, and I believe it.”

Agnes looked back in disbelief.

“How is that possible? Wednesday transforming, I mean. Last time it was just because of a bodyswap.”

“I don’t know,” the outcast answered truthfully. “But we’ll figure out how. We have time. There isn’t a single thing left to rush this journey ever again.”

I still have so many questions.

Why did that familiar crow make an appearance and lead me to Enid out in the woods? It wanted to help, but if it’s associated with Ophelia, it was still leading me away from something.

I haven’t touched her journal since that day I found Enid.

And to be frank, I’m scared of what might happen if I do.

Ylva was right about this. There’s more of a story left to tell. Why take me on a path I’m supposed to never reach? Why did my aunt’s book cause me to bleed how she did? Will I still shift on every moon? And what has given me this power?

I think I know the answer to the last one.

It’s Enid.

She is my great star in the sky.

But whatever is next, I’m ready for it. Even if it surprises me. There’s so much to uncover, but I don’t have to hide anything anymore.

And I think there’s still more for me to learn. About myself. Enid. Everything.

I want to this time.

I’m ready.

We may not have Igor to face anymore, but I share Enid’s same tension. She experiences her visions differently than I do, even if mine are not back in their whole.

There’s still a shadow on the rise.

It has to do with her. Ophelia Frump. The one I almost was. That I do know.

“Wednesday?” Morticia said suddenly, reentering the girls’ room. Her daughter lifted her head, brow furrowed.

And something tells me the start of the end is now.

“Your grandmother called. She said she’s ready for you to spend the rest of your break with her as you promised. But if you don’t want to go, especially after everything, I understand. I can tell her that–”

“No,” Wednesday interrupted, shaking her head. “I have a feeling that’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.

An elusive aunt whose powers make it seem like she’s far from gone.

A crow sent on a mission to change my path for a reason I don’t yet know. Maybe it did.

A world still left to explore with Enid, whose eyes have opened my own.

Knowing this family, what’s left is far contained and unmysterious.

But I’m Wednesday Addams, at last accompanied by the one I swore to keep above.

When have I ever backed down from what’s facing my love?