The late afternoon sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of Ravenshade's sanctuary. Dust motes danced in the golden light, a deceptive calm hanging in the air after the storm Seraphine had unleashed moments ago.
Carlos lay slumped on the couch, pale but conscious, his shirt stained with blood from the bite. Seraphine sat on the floor beside him, shaken and silent. Her lips still bore traces of his blood, and her mind swirled with confusion.
Maika lingered at a distance, unable to speak, her thoughts chaotic. The truth was dawning on all of them like a slow eclipse—darkness swallowing the old certainties.
> "Why… Carlos?" Seraphine finally whispered, her voice raw and trembling. "Why did the baby want you?"
Carlos didn't answer at first. He was staring out the window, jaw clenched, eyes distant.
> "Because…" he began, his voice hoarse, "it's not just this life that connects us."
Maika turned sharply.
> "What do you mean?"
Carlos met Seraphine's eyes. And something behind his own—something ancient—surfaced like a memory buried beneath centuries of dust.
> "I've remembered something. I didn't want to believe it. But the moment your fangs touched my skin… it unlocked everything."
He sat up slowly, the weight of truth sinking into his posture.
> "In my first life… I wasn't Carlos. I was Victor. The son of Duke Dracon. The brother of Alaric and Serene. We were the first three turned into vampires. We destroyed our father together. But there was one thing we could never destroy…"
He paused.
> "His scent on us."
Seraphine's breath caught.
> "You mean…"
Carlos nodded.
> "The scent of our father lingers on us up to this day, his dormant soul will soon arise from us, not from mine and Serene children but from Alaric's mixed with a witch blood."
Seraphine's hands shook.
> "Both of you are a perfect vessel for his soul to be reborn…"
> "You are destined from the start to bore his soul," Carlos said gently. "You - Karena back then find it out when you give birth to your twins..as a witch you turn them and Alaric human, to be powerless so that they will not devour the balance of nature-like our father ."
Maika's mouth parted in disbelief.
> "That means…"
Carlos nodded, looking down at Seraphine's belly.
> "That child you carry… it isn't just a mix of bloodlines. It's fate's final act of reconciliation. A child born of vampire and witch—of Nexus and Carello… and of two pasts colliding in one womb."
Seraphine's eyes shimmered.
> "It recognizes its blood"
Carlos gave a slow, quiet nod.
> "Yes, The child in you is connected to us three- the original Vampires Me, Alaric and Lysandra.Through you I can smell a faint scent of someone we buried long time ago. I advise Caveen not to bring Lysandra over. "
He reached for her hand, cautiously, reverently.
> "Seraphine…the child your carrying have a scent similar to our father."
Tears streamed silently down Seraphine's face. Her heart, already bruised from grief, beat erratically under the pressure of fate.
> "I don't know how to carry all this," she whispered. "If..If Alaric should have been here."
Carlos moved closer, his voice thick with emotion.
> "Then let me carry some of it with you."
A long silence passed between them. Maika slowly turned and stepped away, knowing instinctively this moment didn't belong to her.
Inside Seraphine, the heartbeat pulsed stronger than ever.
The child was growing.
The past was awakening.
The Sanctuary was cloaked in silence.
Only the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle trickle of distant fountains dared to disturb the grief that weighed heavy in the air. Moonlight poured through the stained-glass dome above, casting ethereal hues upon the marble floors and the glass coffin that lay at its heart.
Inside the coffin, Alaric lay still—his silver hair fanned out like starlight across the velvet lining, his expression peaceful but hauntingly lifeless. The golden pendant on his chest no longer glowed, and the warmth that once radiated from him had long since faded.
Seraphine knelt beside him, her crimson gown pooled around her like blood spilled in mourning. Her pale hands trembled as they rested upon the glass, her forehead pressed against its cold surface.
"Please…" Her voice cracked, a whisper nearly stolen by the stillness. "I know you can hear me."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, silent and relentless. Her eyes were red from days of crying, her lips chapped from whispered prayers that had gone unanswered.
"I tried to be strong," she murmured, her voice a desperate breath. "But I can't anymore… Alaric, our child—" she paused, choking back a sob. "He's not just ours. He's more than just a child… it's your father's soul."
Her nails scraped the glass, and she recoiled slightly, ashamed. "I didn't want to believe it at first. But I feel it… in my bones, in his heartbeat. It's powerful… ancient. And I'm scared."
Her hands curled into fists against her lap. "I'm scared I won't be enough. That I'll bring a monster into this world again. That without you… I'll lose myself."
She looked up, eyes locking with his serene face behind the glass.
"But I swear to you, Alaric… if you wake up, we can face this together. I don't care what the prophecy says. I don't care what fate has planned. I will fight for us—for our child—if only you would open your eyes again."
Her sobs returned then, wracking her frail frame, and she leaned against the coffin like a broken promise. Her tears pooled on the glass, shimmering like stars.
From the shadows of the Sanctuary, Carlos watched—his figure hidden behind a veil of ivy-draped stone.
He had not spoken. Not even when he arrived earlier, bearing blood packs and soft-brewed teas Seraphine no longer touched. His presence had been quiet, distant. Not out of indifference, but reverence. And pain.
His fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
It broke him—seeing her like this. Seeing her so shattered.
He had watched over her as Alaric would have wanted. He had kept the Sanctuary protected from every shadow and wind. But he couldn't protect her from this.
From grief.
From hope.
From love that refused to die, even when the man she loved lay cold beneath glass.
Carlos stepped back, unable to watch more.
But as he turned to leave, a whisper caught on the wind—her voice again.
"I dreamed of you last night," she said, her words reaching no one and yet the entire universe. "You were holding him… our son. And you were smiling, Alaric. You were smiling."
Her voice broke.
"Please… come back to us."
Carlos bit the inside of his cheek, forcing down the sting behind his eyes.
He wanted to tell her it would be alright.
He wanted to promise her that Alaric would return.
But he couldn't lie.
And so, he walked away—quietly, fists still clenched—carrying the weight of both hope and helplessness in his heart.