The Sanctuary at Ravenshade, once echoing with pain and loss, now whispered a gentler melody. Outside, the sun filtered through ancient trees, dappling golden light over stone paths and quiet gardens. The air was softer now—lighter. As if the land itself sighed in relief after the storm.
Seraphine sat by the garden's edge, cradling her belly as birds chirped in the distance. She wore a pale lavender gown, loose and flowing, the color reminding Maika of spring hyacinths. Her silver-blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight, but her eyes… they still carried the weight of a heart half-shattered.
From behind her, Maika approached with a woven basket of herbs.
> "Lavender to calm the nerves. Chamomile for sleep," she murmured, placing the basket gently beside Seraphine. "And a bit of moonflower tea. For dreams."
Seraphine glanced up, offering a tired but grateful smile.
> "You're still here."
Maika knelt beside her, brushing a lock of hair from her face like a mother would.
> "Of course I am, darling. I told you, I'm not leaving your side."
> "You should be in Santossa. Carl, Caveen… they need you."
Maika shook her head.
> "You need me."
She rested a warm hand over Seraphine's.
> "You're carrying something extraordinary. You shouldn't go through this alone. I know what it's like to carry a child that everyone around you sees as powerful before they see them as precious."
Seraphine blinked, the words hitting deeper than she expected.
> "You mean… Caveen?"
Maika nodded.
> "I raised him with the world breathing down my neck, fearing what he might become. But I see you now, and I won't let history repeat itself."
---
In the days that followed, the sanctuary slowly transformed. What was once a solemn resting place now felt more like home.
Maika hung soft white linens on the balcony rails, diffusing the sun and letting wind carry the scent of rosemary and mint. She taught Seraphine how to mix herbal teas that soothed the cramps and eased the nightmares. At night, she curled beside her on the wide window bench, telling stories of her own wild pregnancy, and the way Carl nearly passed out the day Caveen was born.
Seraphine even laughed once—just a small laugh, but Maika held onto it like treasure.
---
One evening, as they sat under a tree in the back orchard, Seraphine leaned her head on Maika's shoulder.
> "Do you think… he'd be proud of me?" she whispered.
Maika didn't need to ask who he was.
She wrapped an arm around Seraphine, holding her as the last of the sun dipped below the treetops.
> "Alaric already is. You carried him through war, through heartbreak, through death itself. And now… you carry his legacy."
Tears slid silently down Seraphine's cheek.
> "I just want to make sure this child never knows the pain we did."
> "Then you already are a mother," Maika said, kissing her forehead.
---
Inside the sanctuary, Alaric still lay in the enchanted glass coffin—unchanged, untouched by time.
Every evening, Seraphine visited him. She'd rest her palm gently on the glass, whispering softly to him about the baby's growth, the silly cravings Maika teased her about, and how she sometimes dreamed of him holding their child.
Ravenshade Sanctuary had grown quieter with each passing week. The soft flutter of curtains, the rustling leaves, and the slow hum of Maika's brewing herbs were the only sounds that filled the once solemn halls. Peaceful—but beneath the stillness, unease brewed.
Seraphine hunched over the basin again, dry heaving. The pungent scent of blood hung in the air, remnants of the sealed bag she'd tried to stomach only moments ago.
> "It's not staying down," she whispered hoarsely.
Maika knelt beside her, worry lining her face as she wiped Seraphine's clammy forehead.
> "That's the third bag this week. Your body's rejecting it more violently now."
Seraphine slumped against the edge of the bed, her breaths shallow.
> "I can't eat… I don't want anything, but I'm starving. There's a fire in my veins… my stomach twists like it's devouring itself."
Carlos stood silently in the corner, fists clenched.
> "This isn't just about you anymore," he said softly. "The child is growing. Fast."
Maika nodded, lips tight.
> "I've tried suppression herbs. Witchroot, elven balm, lunar leaf—nothing's working. The cravings are growing stronger than any remedy."
That night, Seraphine tossed and turned in her bed. Her dreams were haunted by flickers of fangs, shadows shifting through crimson mist, and the soft echo of Alaric's voice fading again and again.
---
The Next Morning
Carlos knocked gently on her chamber door.
> "Can I take you out? Just to get fresh air. You need to see the sun."
Seraphine didn't answer at first, but when he peeked inside, she was curled into a ball, eyes sunken, skin pale and glistening with sweat.
Without waiting for her permission, Carlos gently scooped her up in his arms. She felt fragile, her bones too light. As they crossed the corridor toward the terrace, her hand brushed against his collarbone—skin to skin.
Then it happened.
Her eyes flared blood-red. The hunger surged.
> "Carlos…" she breathed, trembling. "I—I can't…"
She didn't finish.
In a flash, she pinned him against the sofa in the lounge, her fangs descending in desperation. Her mouth found the hollow of his neck, and she bit—not with rage, but with agony and need.
Carlos gasped, but didn't fight.
> "Feed," he whispered, clutching her waist to steady her.
From the shadows of the corridor, Maika stepped forward with a tray of broth—only to freeze in place. Her eyes widened.
> "Seraphine… no—"
She watched in stunned silence as Carlos willingly let the vampire woman feed from him. Not once did he push her away.
Then, something dawned on Maika as she looked deeper… not at Seraphine, but at the pulse of energy radiating from her swollen belly.
It wasn't just Seraphine who craved the blood.
It was the child.
> "Gods…" Maika whispered, backing into the wall. "It's not just vampire. It's something deeper. The baby… it's craving its father's blood."
She felt the chill ripple through her.
The child within Seraphine had chosen Carlos as he is the closest blood related to Alaric.
---
When Seraphine finally pulled back, blood staining her lips, she gasped in horror at what she'd done.
> "I—I didn't mean to… I couldn't stop…"
Carlos smiled gently through the weakness, brushing her cheek with his thumb.
> "You didn't hurt me. It's alright. I think… you needed that."
> "No," she trembled, turning to Maika. "It's not me. It was the baby. It… it wanted him. Why? Why Carlos?"
Maika stood frozen, her voice barely a whisper.
> "Because he's the father's sibling...same smell..same bloodline ."