Rain fell like silver needles from a storm-heavy sky, whispering through the tall trees that surrounded the remote cottage. The world outside was cloaked in a thick, shivering mist, curling with menace, blanketing the forest in secrecy. Inside, Kael stirred, sweat dampening the linen sheets clinging to his bare skin.
His fingers curled over the swell of his belly — unnatural in size for how little time had passed. The pregnancy advanced too quickly, magic infusing the child with accelerated growth. His skin burned faintly around the sigil on his hip, Elias's crimson mark humming with energy.
Kael's body trembled. Something felt off. The witches who offered him sanctuary were gone for the day, attending a solstice ritual in the highlands. He was alone, or so he thought.
A creak.
Kael's breath hitched. He slid from the bed, grabbing the dagger hidden beneath the mattress. A shiver rolled down his spine, not from fear but from instinct.
The mist curled inside through a cracked window, carrying the scent of iron — blood.
Then came a whisper.
"You've carried the heir too long, fae whore."
Kael spun. Three shadowed figures materialized from the mist, cloaked in black, blades glinting in the dim light. Assassins — cloaked in enchanted armor, their aura reeked of void magic.
Kael's breath stuttered. The child in him pulsed. Magic licked through his veins. The mark Elias left on his body flared with molten heat.
One assassin lunged.
Kael moved with unnatural grace. The blade missed his throat by a breath. He slashed upward with his dagger, but it clanged off magical shielding.
The second assassin muttered a binding spell. Dark threads snapped toward him, aiming for his limbs. Kael screamed—
—and the world shattered.
A pulse, raw and electric, burst from Kael's core. The air rippled. Sigils flashed into life across his skin. The child's energy had awakened.
The assassins were flung against the walls, their armor cracking, shrieking in agony as their flesh smoked. Kael hovered in the air, eyes glowing violet, hair floating like strands of silver fire.
"You will not touch my child," he growled, voice layered with an unearthly tone.
The last assassin, gasping, tried to crawl away. Kael descended like a vengeful god, placing a palm over the man's chest. Power surged. The man convulsed—and then stilled.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping, clutching his stomach as the glow faded.
Silence.
Outside, the mist receded. The forest exhaled. And Kael lay in the wake of his unleashed power, trembling with the realization that he was no longer the same man.
Nor was the child inside him ordinary.
---
Hours passed before Elias arrived.
The crimson-eyed vampire burst into the blood-stained room, senses wild. His gaze landed on Kael, who stood nude before the shattered window, cloak wrapped around his waist.
"You came," Kael said, voice low, tired.
Elias strode to him, cupping his face. "The pact flared—I felt your pain. Gods, what happened?"
Kael leaned in, forehead against Elias's chest. "They came for the child."
Elias's grip tightened. "Then they'll die for it. Every last one."
Kael looked up, fire simmering in his eyes. "They already did."
Elias stared at him for a long, quiet moment. Then, with slow, burning intent, he leaned in and kissed Kael hard—possessive, tender, desperate. Kael answered, the heat of the battle still singing in his blood.
They stumbled toward the bed, Elias stripping Kael of his cloak, kissing the line of his spine. "You're power incarnate," Elias growled, tongue tracing a sigil. "Mine."
Kael moaned, arching into his touch, every kiss reigniting the embers. The room filled with heat, their bodies entwining again with hungry urgency. Kael gasped, gripping the sheets as Elias moved with slow, deliberate worship, their bond deepening with every thrust.
It wasn't just sex.
It was a claiming, a reckoning.
As moonlight danced on their bodies, the mist outside coiled once again, whispering of a prophecy awakening. And within Kael, the child stirred — a being of legend, protected by love, born of shadows and fire.
---