The storm had passed by morning, but the sky remained bruised with unnatural clouds that churned like ink spilled into water. Lightning flickered in strange patterns—symbols not seen since the fall of the first vampire kingdom.
Inside her chambers, Seraphine sat motionless beneath the dim glow of enchanted lanterns. Her body was still healing from the bite she had suffered the night before. Though the wound had been treated with protective oils and blood wards, it pulsed faintly beneath the bandages—as if something still moved inside her.
She could feel Aeloria stirring again.
"You're afraid," the voice whispered.
"Good."
Seraphine closed her eyes.
She had never known fear like this—not even when she had faced death on the battlefield or bargained with forgotten gods for survival.
This was different.
This was inside her.
And it was growing stronger.
***
Nyxara entered quietly, carrying a bundle wrapped in black silk. She placed it carefully on the table between them and unwrapped it slowly, revealing a stone unlike any other.
It was smooth and dark, almost liquid in appearance, pulsing faintly with veins of crimson light. It gave off no heat, no sound—but Seraphine felt its presence settle over the room like a weight.
"What is that?" she asked softly.
Nyxara met her gaze. "The Wombstone."
Seraphine's breath caught.
She had heard whispers of it once—in forbidden texts and hushed conversations among elder witches. A relic older than time itself, said to be the heart of the first vampire. Bound in blood and sealed in bone, it was rumored to hold the power to contain what should never have been born.
"You think this can stop her?" Seraphine whispered.
Nyxara nodded. "If used correctly, yes. But there are rules."
Seraphine leaned forward. "Tell me."
Nyxara hesitated before speaking. "The Wombstone was created during the War of Hollow Births—a time when beings like your daughter were summoned into the world. It was designed to seal unborn spirits before they could fully manifest."
She reached out and touched the surface of the stone lightly with her fingertips. It shimmered briefly, as if aware of being observed.
"There are two ways to use it," Nyxara continued. "One is to place it upon the womb while the child still sleeps within. If the bond between mother and child is severed completely, the spirit will be trapped within the stone forever."
Seraphine swallowed hard. "And the second way?"
Nyxara's voice dropped to a whisper. "If the child has already begun to feed… then the only way to contain it is to bind both mother and child together—sealed in flesh and stone. You would become one."
Seraphine stared at her. "You mean I'd be buried alive—with her still inside me?"
Nyxara nodded grimly. "Yes. And you would remain that way until the end of time."
Silence stretched between them.
Outside, thunder rumbled again.
***
Later that evening, Kael stood watch outside Seraphine's door, his sword resting loosely in its sheath. He had heard everything through the thin walls—every word spoken about the Wombstone, every hesitation in Seraphine's voice.
He didn't like it.
Didn't like any of it.
But he knew better than to interfere. Not yet.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Lady Nyxara emerged from the shadows, her expression unreadable.
"She knows what must be done," she murmured.
Kael frowned. "Does she believe it?"
Nyxara looked at him carefully. "Do you?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned back toward the door, listening for movement inside.
There was none.
Just silence.
Too much silence.
***
Inside, Seraphine sat alone with the Wombstone.
She reached out and touched it cautiously.
A jolt of cold shot up her arm, sharp and sudden, like ice cracking beneath skin. She gasped, pulling her hand away—but the sensation lingered.
Images flooded her mind.
A cradle made of bone.
A girl with hollow eyes and teeth like needles.
A throne built from the remains of mothers who had failed to escape their children.
And then—
"You want to lock me away."
Seraphine flinched.
"I don't know what else to do," she admitted aloud.
"Then you've already lost."
Seraphine pressed a trembling hand to her belly.
"I'm trying to save you."
"No."
"You're trying to kill me."
The pressure inside her surged suddenly, unbearable and invasive.
She cried out, doubling over as pain lanced through her abdomen.
The Wombstone pulsed violently in response, glowing brighter.
And for the first time, Aeloria screamed.
"Don't touch me!"
"Don't trap me!"
Seraphine fell to her knees, clutching herself as the pain intensified.
The door burst open.
Kael rushed in, sword drawn, followed closely by Nyxara.
They found her curled on the floor, trembling, the Wombstone glowing fiercely beside her.
"It knows," Nyxara whispered. "It knows she tried to use it."
Kael knelt beside Seraphine, gripping her shoulders. "Are you all right?"
She looked up at him, tears streaking her face.
"No," she whispered. "I think she hates me now."
***
By dawn, the Wombstone had gone silent again.
Its glow had faded, but its presence remained—a reminder of what had almost happened.
Seraphine sat by the window, staring out at the storm-darkened horizon.
Kael stood behind her.
"She'll never let you use it again," he said quietly.
Seraphine nodded. "I know."
"But we can't just wait for her to finish what she started."
She turned to look at him, her eyes hollow with exhaustion.
"Then we find another way."
Kael studied her for a long moment.
"There may be one," he said finally. "The Heart of the First Vampire."
Seraphine stiffened.
"That's just a myth."
Nyxara stepped forward. "Is it? Or is it the only thing strong enough to match the Wombstone's power?"
Silence settled between them.
Outside, the wind howled again.
And somewhere deep within Seraphine's womb…
"Let them try."