The sun slowly peeks through the bedroom curtains. You, now lying beside her in bed, watch how its warm rays bathe the brunette. Her hair, usually tied into two perfect braids, is loose and completely messy on the pillow. Her body is covered by a thin white sheet that clings to her curves, hiding the bite marks and other traces on her skin—making your throat feel dry at the sight. The vivid memories of what happened still linger: that battlefield of low sighs, trembling bodies, and the scent of the other imprinted on your skin like a sacred yet silent confession, capable of tearing everything down in its path—dangerous.

How did you end up there? Simple: the work of a single wolfish heat. One slip that led to adventures in her bedroom, behind closed doors, within those four walls. The pillows became faithful companions, muffling intimate, carnal sounds as you both surrendered to primal sensations.

You try to get up—you need to dress and return to your own room. After all, this was only an adventure, something that didn’t involve emotions beyond lust, without tenderness to show, without an “I love you.” You believed the young Addams was still comfortably asleep, but as soon as she felt the subtle shift of weight on the bed, almost immediately, as if by instinct, she pulled you toward her. Eyes still closed, a faint sigh escaped her bruised lips.

“Not yet,” she grumbled in her morning voice—a tone that, in some way, always strikes you as attractive, even though you’re used to that intimate side of her that only you have the privilege to know. Soon enough, you find yourself wrapped once again in her warm arms, a sign she won’t let you go anytime soon (because yes, you’ve discovered that Merlina’s body can be warm, not lifeless as it usually seems most of the time, but then again, nothing about her is normal).

“Stay, don’t leave…”

Her voice carried a soft, subtle plea as she buried her face into your bare shoulder, quietly inhaling your pheromones with silent satisfaction. Over the long time you’ve shared these adventures, you’ve begun to notice subtle changes in her behavior. Her cold, biting voice softened a little with you—still insulting, but now lacking its usual sharpness. And when it was time to part, she often seemed like a small child, sinking into your chest, wanting to keep her body infused with your pheromones, silently savoring the fact that she smelled like you.

Most importantly: no one knows about this close and exotic relationship between the two of you—not even Merlina’s best friend, Enid Sinclair.