Raven - Wenclair (JEMMA)

Enid's POV

I blinked. Then blinked again.

Half. Of. The. Food. Was. Gone.

And not just any half---the werewolf-approved, meat-loaded half. My jaw dropped as I slowly turned my gaze to Wednesday, who was sitting there, cool as ever, chewing like she hadn't just inhaled enough food to feed a small pack.

My mouth slowly curled into a grin as I leaned forward, resting my chin in my palm. "Sooo... Willa." I drawled, tilting my head. "Did you just eat your own words? 'Cause I swear you said you weren't as excited about the food as me and Nyx."

Wednesday didn't even look at me. Instead, she cleared her throat, dabbed her mouth with a napkin in that dramatic Addams way, and stood up without a word.

"I'm excusing myself," she announced, turning sharply on her heel. Then, like a shadow in the night, she disappeared up the stairs, leaving me and everyone else at the table in stunned silence.

I snorted. Then full-on laughed. "Oh my gosh," I wheezed, clutching my stomach. "She totally just ran away from being called out!"

Nyx giggled beside me, kicking her feet under the table. "Mommy ate so much!" she said, still holding her new knives proudly.

Yoko leaned in, smirking. "Damn, dude. Did she even breathe between bites? 'Cause that was a beastly amount of food."

Divina smirked as she leaned against the counter. "Honestly? Kind of adorable."

I grinned, shaking my head. "It really was." Then I tilted my head toward the stairs, my smile softening. "But I better go check on her."

I grabbed one more piece of steak---because priorities---before pushing back my chair and heading upstairs. Something was definitely up with Wednesday. And as her wife, it was my job to figure out what.

...

I knocked gently, waiting for some kind of response, but all I got was silence. So, I carefully pushed the door open, peeking inside.

There she was, sitting at the edge of our bed, staring down at the floor like it held all the answers to the universe. My smile faltered. That wasn't just a post-food-coma moment. Something was off.

Closing the door behind me, I stepped forward, my heart doing that little worried flutter it always did when something was bothering her. I sat beside her, close enough for our legs to touch, and reached for her hand. Her fingers were cold, like always, but they twitched slightly when I laced mine through them.

"Hey," I said softly, giving her hand a squeeze. "What's wrong? You okay?"

Wednesday didn't look at me right away, which was very unlike her. Normally, she'd have some sharp, dramatic remark ready, something poetic about darkness or the inevitability of suffering. But right now? Just silence.

I grinned, nudging Wednesday's shoulder lightly. "You do know I won't stop bothering you until you tell me what's up, right?"

Wednesday sighed---the sigh, the one that meant she was seconds away from giving in. She shut her eyes briefly, like she was preparing herself for battle, before finally mumbling, "I think I'm pregnant."

My brain short-circuited.

I blinked. Then again. Then---OHMYGOD.

A loud gasp escaped me as I shot to my feet. Before Wednesday could react, I scooped her up, lifting her effortlessly into my arms, and spun us both around.

"I'M GONNA BE A FATH---wait. Father! Right?!" I paused mid-spin, suddenly overthinking. "Because this time I made you pregnant, so---"

Wednesday, still smirking even while being twirled around like my personal gothic princess, shook her head. "Technically, biologically, that would make you the father, yes."