Bloodly Murder

Love?

Sage spent the entire morning pretending she wasn’t looking for Wednesday Addams.

It was a lie. A bad one.

Her eyes swept the quad again and again, tracking movement, shadows, anything black enough to be him. She forced herself not to follow. Not to hover. Not to trail after him like some pathetic, lovesick ghost.

That alone took more restraint than she cared to admit.

Her nails dug into her palms as she finally spotted him exiting a classroom, walking with that infuriating, unhurried confidence. Like the world never demanded anything from him. Like fate wasn’t clawing at his spine.

She didn’t think.

She moved.

Sage closed the distance in seconds, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him with her. Hard. Wednesday didn’t stumble. Didn’t protest. He merely allowed himself to be dragged across the quad, his dark eyes flicking down to her grip with something dangerously close to amusement.

They stopped behind the greenhouse.

The hookup spot, according to Nevermore students.

Sage released him instantly, half-expecting to be traumatized by an audience. Thankfully, it was empty. Just glass panes fogged by heat, creeping vines, and the distant hum of students who had no idea her world was about to implode.

Wednesday turned to face her, expression infuriatingly neutral.

She hated that she couldn’t read him. Hated that his emotions didn’t bleed through his face the way hers did. He watched her closely now, head tilted, curiosity sharpening his gaze.

“You dragged me away,” he said calmly. “Either you’re confessing to murder or you’re about to do something unwise.”

Sage sucked in a breath.

When her eyes met his, she froze. Stuck. Studying him with an intensity that made something unfamiliar stir in Wednesday’s chest. Fast. Uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, ready to comment.

She stepped closer instead.

“You know about mates,” Sage said quietly. “Vampire and werewolf ones. The pull. The need. The way the world narrows the second the bond forms.”

Her voice trembled only slightly.

“You’re my mate,” she said. “My fated mate.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Expectant.

Wednesday stared at her. One second. Two.

Then his hand settled on her waist.

He pulled her in with deliberate slowness until she stood flush against his chest. His other hand slid into her hair, steady, certain. He kissed her before she could overthink it.

Sage’s mind went blank.

A soft sound escaped her as she leaned into him, hands rising to his shoulders, fingers curling at the back of his collar. Wednesday’s grip tightened, grounding and possessive, guiding her backward until her shoulders met the wooden wall of the greenhouse.

Leaves rattled softly around them.

Then—

“Hey! What are you—”

Footsteps.

Voices.

Sage jolted back instantly, heart hammering uselessly in her chest. Wednesday merely turned his head, eyes narrowing slightly toward the sound. A group of students passed by the greenhouse, laughter echoing as they moved on, blissfully unaware of what they’d nearly interrupted.

When the danger passed, Sage was shaking.

Wednesday, meanwhile, looked… thoughtful.

“So,” he said calmly, as if they hadn’t just nearly been caught. “That explains the bloodlust control, the fixation, and the statistically improbable number of times you’ve almost collided with me.”

She stared at him, stunned.

“You’re not… freaked out?” she asked.

“No,” he replied. “I find it efficient.”

Efficient.

Her stomach flipped.

“If fate has selected you,” Wednesday continued, stepping closer again, voice low, “then resisting it would be irrational. I don’t do irrational.”

He brushed his thumb once over her wrist. Intentional. Claiming.

Then he turned and walked away like he hadn’t just rewired her entire existence.

Sage stood there for a full minute before reality crashed down on her.

She was spiraling by the time she reached her dorm.

Her thoughts tangled. Her chest felt too tight. She paced the room, dragged a hand through her hair, then collapsed onto her bed with a groan. Her fated mate had accepted the bond like it was a schedule change.

Meanwhile, she was emotionally combusting.

Hours later, a knock echoed softly at her door.

Sage sat up, breath catching.

When she opened it, Wednesday stood there, hands behind his back, expression unreadable.

“I noticed you disappeared,” he said. “That displeased me.”

Her heart skipped.

“I came to inform you,” he added, “that I’ll see you tomorrow. And the day after. And likely every day thereafter.”

A pause.

“Sleep,” Wednesday said calmly. “You’ll need it.”

Then he turned and walked away.

Sage shut the door slowly and slid down against it, pressing her forehead to the wood.

She was doomed.

And somehow, impossibly, she’d never felt safer.

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So how we liking the scene?
I tired my best
Still a bit short but I'm feeding you guys am I not?

Love
Kaelyn