OF DELPHI

"I would not have expected you to defy reality," she hisses fiercely, her hands leaving his forearms as she reaches up to clench her fists in his hoodie, knuckles digging into his chest as she yanks him bodily closer to her. He does not resist, too unbalanced, and she tips her chin up to hold his gaze as she narrows her eyes at him. "I do not blame you for what your mother and uncle made you do. Nor do I blame you for what they ordered you not to do."

Wednesday Addams has little interest in being a half-blood. But, against all reason, she is interested in the absurdly plain Hermes Cabin counselor—and she is interested in figuring out just what it is about him that draws her to him so.

"Just for the record, Wednesday didn't kidnap me. I mean, I'm the one who drove." Wednesday turns her head to look at him more fully, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You think you were not kidnapped. Who knows what sort of dark sorcery I might have performed to make you think it was your idea?" His words are slow, deliberate, and laced with something tantalizingly lethal. "Then I guess you must have cast your spell the day we met, but I doubt even you could sustain dark sorcery for this long, Wednesday."