Chapter Text
Oftentimes omegas were portrayed as the weaker designation in media. Damsels and lads in need of rescuing, always worrying about finding the right alpha (or in more progressive works just the right mate, whatever designation and sex it may be), and in constant need of reassurance and coddling. Never the ones in charge, always subservient, and never the hero even in their own stories.
Alphas on the other hand were always portrayed as stronger, better in most regards. They never needed rescuing, they would either fight their way out or find some clever escape. They were never worrying about finding the right mate, always more focused on the task at hand or they were holding out for a childhood omega friend that they had back home. They were always in charge, always dominant, and always the hero even if it wasn’t their story.
Wednesday hated this for two main reasons. One, it hardly reflected the reality of the world. There was a wide range of how people acted and comported themselves, head-strong omegas and betas, alphas that hated the spotlight and being in charge, millions and millions of different people who acted differently from each other and yet people kept pigeonholing them as if a one size fits all approach was actually a good idea.
Two, she would gladly teach anyone of any designation a lesson in why Wednesday Addams, omega, was not weak or subservient.
This was clearly shown in her writing. Her first book was a cult hit for its macabre and gruesome murder mystery that featured protagonist Viper De La Muerte, a strong, independent omega who foils the plans of the murderer, an alpha. What had really gotten her noticed and had made some waves was in the second book when it was revealed that the murderer of the first book was actually following the plans of their partner, an omega.
Apparently it was surprising to just about everybody that an omega could be the dominant partner in a relationship. It wasn’t surprising to Wednesday as she had seen such a relationship her entire life. Yes, she had drawn inspiration from and may have modeled the main villains in her books after her parents.
Her father, Gomez Addams, was a somewhat intelligent and charismatic man that had no issue commanding a room full of people to listen to his words and do as he said. Still strong and athletic (even if he had put on more than a few pounds over the years). He was very nearly what anyone would describe as an alpha.
Her mother, Morticia Addams, an omega, could control him with but a single word. Every bit as intelligent and charming as her father and able to match him feat for feat. She may not be as physically strong but she was clever. She always made sure she was heard and understood.
The most upsetting thing about all of this was that neither her mother or father were actually dominant over the other. They were equals, partners, each controlled the other and was controlled in turn because that’s what a real relationship was like. That was what she had written in her book!
Yet, people who read the book, noticed that it was the omega’s plan and that the alpha deferred to the omega on such matters and they completely missed the point that the whole idea was a joint effort and that they were doing it for each other!
This was all to say that she had found herself in San Francisco for two reasons. One, she planned on having her next book take place here and she had wanted to see and explore it herself for a few months and two, she had agreed to her publisher’s constant prodding and agreed to appear on some panel about omega empowerment in media at some convention.
Even though Wednesday had sworn to never fall in love, her parents disgusting love had caused her to literally be sick on at least one occasion (that Christmas Eve still haunted her dreams), and she refused to let some alpha think they had any sort of control over her, she still felt it only appropriate that she set the record about her book straight.
That was how she found herself in the forest that was (reportedly) San Francisco Werewolves territory. She was planning on having the next murder in her book involve the werewolves somehow, she was still working on the outline, and wanted to make sure she got the details of the forest right. Plus she was hoping to run into some actual werewolves. Take two top predators and put it into one being? How could she not be fascinated by them?
Thus, stroll through the forest on a full moon to take in all the sights and sounds. Wednesday loved such walks, they really got the mind going. Was that a deer ruffling the underbrush or a serial killer? Was that howl a werewolf or just a wolf? And was it getting closer? Such wonderful thoughts.
Actually there was a howl again and Wednesday was very certain it was getting closer. She looked around, hoping to spy the beast as it approached. She couldn’t see it or hear it as it got closer so it was an expert in stealth but she could smell it.
The stink of alpha and rage hit her nose and she began to reach for the silver dagger she had hid in her boot. Before she could reach it though something slammed her into a tree.
Two large hands pinned her shoulders and her feet dangled a few inches off the ground. Instinctual fear took a hold of Wednesday before being replaced by annoyance. She looked down at the golden eyes of this creature that dared touch her. “Put me down,” She commanded, calmly, showing none of the actual fear she felt.
The beast growled at her angrily and released more pheromones as if its actions didn’t already prove it thought she was trespassing on their territory. It certainly had no actual legal claim to it, this was a public park, but that didn’t seem to stop it from threatening Wednesday’s life. Wednesday began lifting her leg and stretching her arm as best she could, if she could just reach her dagger…
The werewolf barred its fangs and barked at her. She ignored it and felt those large hands pressing harder against her. Wednesday grimaced in pain but she had endured far worse playing with Pugsley as children. Just another inch and…
Something else slammed into the brown werewolf pinning her to the tree and as it and whatever had hit it tumbled away Wednesday fell to the ground with a gasp of relief. She wasted no time in pulling her dagger out and turned to face her assailant and her assailant’s assailant.
It was another wolf, a somewhat golden color, almost white from what Wednesday could see but… where those blue and red highlights in its fur?
The two wolves were circling each other, growling and barking and the whole place stunk of alpha pheromones. Wednesday noticed the golden one’s maw was dripping with blood and on closer inspection she saw a patch of fur missing from the brown wolf’s shoulder. They lunged at each other and became a rolling mess of fangs and fur before pulling apart.
The golden wolf’s claws were now stained with blood and didn’t look any worse for wear. The brown wolf tucked its tail and ran away with a whimper. With the other threat gone Wednesday turned her full attention to the golden alpha wolf. It’s tongue was lolling out and it began to step towards Wednesday.
She quickly had her dagger at the ready. “Take another step and I will stab you.”
The new wolf stopped and cocked its head in confusion and released new pheromones into the air. Calming but confused with the underlying scent of freshly dug dirt, pine, and rain, Wednesday's favorite scent combination (rainy day funeral) but Wednesday held her ground. She wasn’t going to take any more chances tonight and didn’t budge.
The wolf took a step forward and Wednesday’s dagger flew straight and true right into the wolf’s shoulder. As it let out a howl of pain she turned and ran. The silver dagger would keep it more than occupied as she made her escape.
—
Enid Sinclair was a disappointment.
A disappointment as a werewolf, as an alpha, and as a fashion designer.
As a fashion designer her teachers and anyone she showed her work to in the industry all had the same thing to say. Technically proficient but lacking in true imagination and heart in her designs. Enid couldn’t blame them, even she felt her designs were lacking. So, she ended up doing basic alterations and cashiering at a fashion boutique where she wasn’t paid enough to deal with moody customers complaining about every little thing. ‘Why do you need to hem it up?’ Do you want your nearly thousand dollar dress to drag through the rain? ‘This fit last week, why do you need to make any changes?’ Well because you’re either pregnant or you need to cut back on the carbs Karen. At least she was working in the industry she wanted which is more than she could say for some of her friends.
Then there was the whole reason she was a disappointment as a wolf and alpha. She had transformed exactly once into her wolf form, when she had first presented as an alpha. After that one she hadn’t been able to do so again. Bringing out her claws was the most she could ever do. Her family had dropped a pretty penny flying her out to the best lycanologist in Milwaukee who diagnosed her with the most bullshit sounding syndrome. Apparently she had what was commonly called Fated Pair Syndrome.
What was Fated Pair Syndrome? In technical terms it was a hormonal imbalance that stopped her from transforming into her werewolf form until she was exposed to the proper pheromones which would then jumpstart her body to begin producing the proper hormones to transform. In layman's terms her body was saying ‘Hey, you know all that cool werewolf stuff the rest of your family and pack can do? Yeah, we ain’t doing that till we find someone we want to put a baby into.’
So, not only did it sound like bullshit it was bullshit!
Was there any sort of treatment for this bullshit syndrome? Of course! It cost several hundred thousands dollars and potentially multiple months or even years finding the right pheromone combination that would get her going. Or you know, go out and meet people until you find the right one.
Enid had only one course of action then. Dates, meetups, mixers, parties, any sort of social gathering she could get her hands on she went to. Sometimes she felt like she had met every single person in the San Fran area but still no transformation. The ‘right person’ continued to evade her. And no mom, she couldn’t just settle for anyone and no she wasn’t being picky and of course she was trying to meet more people mom and no the doctor said she would definitely know when she found the right person so would you please get off my back! God damn it.
Now she was wandering the forest alone on a full moon because her mom had somehow convinced her it was a good idea to come out and meet all of the new wolves that had moved into the area over the last couple of years. But, surprise surprise, none of them were 'the right one'! So to clear her head and wait for her ride back home to have opposable thumbs again she decided a nice walk would be good.
It honestly was nice and doing her some good but it didn’t actually help with any of her problems.
That’s when she heard the howl from one of the young new pack members. Enid couldn’t transform but she still understood her own kinds communication. That howl meant intruder, attack.
And there went any good mood she had.
This idiot was going to kill someone and bring the authorities down on them hard. Did they have any idea what it took the pack to get approval to use these woods?
Enid began running towards where the howl came from, hoping to stop the worst case scenario from happening.
That’s when she smelled it.
Lavender and Rose and Fresh Cloth.
Her skin began burning and she fell to the ground with a grunt. Her bones snapped and cracked and everything was pain as her muscles stretched and then the pain was gone and all she could feel was relief. Then a new smell. Fear and then annoyance and only one thought permeated her mind.
Who was touching her mate?!
She slammed into the idiot that dared even look at her mate and tore a chunk from him with her maw. Nothing serious, it would probably heal by the end of the night.
Probably.
Then they were barking at each other and pheromones mixing and trying to overcome the other. The werewolf language was something that came instinctually and could help convey complex emotions and even basic ideas.
This was not such a conversation among wolves. It boiled down to, ‘The fuck man?!’, ‘Don’t you fucking touch them!’, ‘Fuck you!’, ‘Fuck you too!’ and then they were attacking each other. The other wolf seemed so slow and clumsy to Enid and she easily avoided any of their attacks while she got several good claw strikes in.
‘Back the fuck off!’
And with a whimper the other wolf turned tail and ran.
Perfect!
Now to go greet her mate!
She was so happy to have finally found them!
“Take another step and I will stab you.”
That brought Enid up short. That and just how beautiful they were. Black hair done in two braids that hung down her front, deep brown eyes, almost black, perfect lips and face. Even in the baggy hoodie Enid could tell they had a slim frame. It would probably fit perfectly between her arms as she wrapped around her. She looked pretty pale though, probably still frightened.
Enid let out calming pheromones and took another step forward an-
Her mate threw the dagger at her! And it hit her in the shoulder! And fuck! It hurt! Like the worst pain times ten! Like way worse than when she transformed! Fuck fuck fuck! Was this thing silver! Fucking fuck was she a psychopath or something! Who the fuck just carries a silver dagger around! Fucking hell!
Enid was on the ground, howling and writhing in pain but eventually got enough thought together to pull the dagger out. She lay there and blood kept falling and it wasn’t healing so definitely a silver dagger.
Slowly she stood back up and carefully picked up the dagger, she couldn’t let something so dangerous just lay around, and slowly loped back to the meetup space. She had finally found her mate.
And they had stabbed her.
With a silver dagger.