"Who are you calling morons?" Bianca snapped, anger sharp in her voice.
Of course she was irritated—out of all people to show up in a secret room only a handful of students knew about, it had to be the two she disliked most.
One had humiliated her in a fencing match.
The other had beaten her in the Poe Cup.
And now he was calling her a moron. Anyone would be pissed.
"I didn't call you moron," Ethan said, his tone the same careless one that earned him enemies on a weekly basis.
"I meant the people who didn't realize someone was watching them. So… are you those people?"
Every Nightshade member who heard him felt an immediate urge to swing at him. He wasn't subtle. They all knew exactly what he meant.
He had called them morons—just in a roundabout way.
"We are not," Xavier said firmly. "And you shouldn't be here. This room is for Nightshade members only. Non-members aren't allowed."
"Yeah," Bianca added, shooting Ethan a glare. "You're not one of us. So you—and that creep—should get out."
Ethan looked around the room, taking in the cloaks, the masks, the dramatic lighting.
"So what, you're some kind of big shots?" he asked. "This is your little secret room and I'm not allowed in?"
"We're Nightshades," Ajax said, puffing up slightly. "An elite social club."
Ethan snorted. "Yeah, I know the type. A bunch of adolescents sneaking around pretending they're mysterious. Rooftop parties, campouts, the occasional midnight skinny-dip."
He gestured vaguely at the room. "You might as well call yourselves a themed after-school hobby."
The Nightshades bristled.
Bianca folded her arms. "We preserve tradition."
"Sure," Ethan replied. "Nothing screams tradition like teenagers in costumes."
"Can you get out?" Xavier snapped. "You're not welcome here."
There was an edge to his voice—sharp, irritated. Jealousy didn't suit him, but it was obvious enough. He was jealous of Wednesday's closeness to Ethan.
"That's where you made a mistake," Ethan said calmly. "There isn't a place in Nevermore I can't go."
Bianca folded her arms. "And why is that?"
"Because," Ethan replied casually, "I'm the sponsor of this school."
Silence followed.
Not the dramatic kind—just pure disbelief.
"What?" every Nightshade member said at once.
"You heard me." Ethan shrugged. "I'm one of the people who donate money to keep this school running. In exchange, I get access to all facilities—including this little club of yours."
He gestured loosely toward the owl masks. "If you have a problem with it, go complain to Weems. She'll confirm it."
The Nightshades looked at one another, completely thrown by Ethan's revelation.
While they were still processing it, Wednesday—who had been tied to a chair—quietly slipped her wrists free. She stood up without ceremony. No struggle. No effort. Just done.
She picked up the discarded ropes and shoved them into Xavier's hands.
"I'm leaving," Wednesday said flatly. "I refuse to witness this farce any longer."
The Nightshades stared at her, stunned.
She regarded them with mild disappointment, as though they were an unsatisfactory autopsy result.
"You all suck at kidnapping. Truly. If you don't know how to restrain someone, don't attempt it. It's embarrassing."
She stepped toward the staircase.
"It's amateurs like you who give kidnapping a bad name," she added, her voice perfectly deadpan as she passed Ethan.
Ethan lifted a hand, nodding along. "She's right. This was painful to watch."
Wednesday didn't slow. He fell into step beside her without hesitation.
He followed Wednesday up the stairs without hesitation, leaving the Nightshades frozen in place—humiliated, confused, and unsure which one of them had just been insulted the most.
***
As they walked through the quiet courtyard on their way back to the dorms.
"So that's why Principal Weems tolerates you," she said. "Because you fund the school."
Ethan didn't deny it. "It helps."
Wednesday nodded once, still processing.
"And that is also why you hid the information about the monster in the woods… even though you clearly saw it?"
Ethan shook his head. "No. There's another reason. One I'm sure you can figure out."
Wednesday didn't hesitate.
"I already have a hypothesis. You and that creature share a connection. Thing said that in the woods you lost control and looked… different. That only deepens my suspicions that you're tied to the monster and the incidents surrounding it."
Ethan stopped walking.
A short laugh escaped him—quiet, amused, almost mocking.
"Haha… Wednesday, you're completely off."
Before she could respond, he stepped forward and pinned her against the stone wall—not violently, just firmly enough to make her look at him.
His eyes met hers, and for a brief second, they glowed a deep, unnatural red.
"I have no relationship with that monster," he said, voice low and steady. "But make no mistake—I am a monster. Just not one you understand."
Wednesday didn't blink.
Ethan pulled back slightly, his tone shifting back to casual.
"And by the way… in that book you took from the shelf—there's something interesting. Read it. You'll understand what it is."
With that, he turned and walked away across the courtyard.
Wednesday remained where she was, watching him disappear into the shadows.
Her expression stayed still… but a small, unmistakable smile formed at the edge of her lips.
For a moment, Wednesday noticed something else—her heartbeat, usually steady and cold, thumped a little faster. Not out of fear. Not out of surprise.
Just… a strange emotion she couldn't immediately categorize.
It was irritating.
And it was interesting.
Exactly the kind of sensation she disliked feeling—yet couldn't ignore.
"This is annoying. Interesting, but annoying."
Thing crawled out of her backpack and signed rapidly.
You're smiling. And you seem… happy.
Wednesday snapped her gaze downward.
"I am not."
Thing raised a skeptical finger.
*****
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