Thunder tore across the sky like bone snapping under pressure, rattling the ancient bones of the Manor.
Rain slammed the stained-glass windows, warping peaceful images of vampire saints into broken, grotesque nightmares.
Inside the dim, flickering bedroom, Selene twisted her body caught between this world and the next.
Her face usually wild and sharp with life beneath that untamed tawny hair was slick with sweat, drained of color and in agony.
"Valerius!" she gasped, voice cracked and feral.
Her fingers dug into his wrist with brutal force strength not dulled by pain, the unrelenting grip of a Silvermane Alpha fighting the inevitable.
Valerius was already there, kneeling at her side. But for once, his speed meant nothing. His hands trained for battle, bloodshed, precision trembled uselessly.
In the candlelight, his pale skin looked like old parchment. His dark eyes ancient and unreadable for centuries now brimmed with something raw and helpless.
Fear.
Real, human fear.
He didn't know how to do this.
Vampires didn't birth.
They unmade.
They stopped time.
They didn't bring it screaming into the world.
And Selene gods, Selene the wolf who had risked everything to love him… she was breaking in front of him.
"It's too soon," she panted, voice shaky.
"The moon… it's pulling at her. It's fighting her. Fighting me."
Her spine arched, a guttural growl tearing loose from deep inside her. She wasn't just in labor she was locked in a primal battle neither of them understood.
Valerius leaned forward, brushing damp strands of hair from her burning forehead. His cool fingers lingered there.
"Hold on, my star," he whispered.
"She's strong. Like her mother."
No midwife. No healer. Just what little he could remember from forbidden tomes and desperation.
Time lost all shape.
Selene's screams gave way to snarls. Her amber eyes narrowed into slits, the wolf rising beneath her skin.
She was slipping losing her grip on the human half that still loved him.
Valerius blurred across the room over and over, fetching cool cloths, fresh water, clean linen. Whispering anything everything to keep her with him.
Forests. Moonlight. Freedom. Love.
Then, with a flash of lightning
A sound pierced the storm.
Thin. Furious. Alive.
A baby.
Valerius moved faster than thought, catching the tiny, blood slicked form as Selene collapsed, her body giving in.
A girl.
Dark, wet hair matted to her small skull.
Tiny fists clenched. A scream that cut through air like a blade.
"Selene," he said, breath catching.
Tears stung his eyes real, scorching tears. The kind he hadn't cried in centuries.
He turned, voice breaking as he held up the child.
"Look. She's here. Our daughter's here."
Selene shifted, barely. Her eyes clouded, heavy with exhaustion found the baby.
A smile tugged at her lips. Faint. Proud. Fierce.
"Lyra…" she whispered.
"My fierce little… Lyra…"
Her hand lifted… trembled… almost touched her daughter's cheek
And then fell.
Her breath left her in a quiet rush, and the light in her eyes faded.
Gone.
"Selene?" he whispered.
Then louder "Selene!"
But the room didn't answer. Only the wind outside and the flickering candles bore witness.
Valerius clutched the child to his chest, heart shattering silently.
Lyra's cries slowed to hiccups. Confused, quiet. As if she sensed what had vanished from the room.
He rocked beside the bed, holding her close, face buried in the soft down of her hair.
Trying to memorize her warmth… before the cold returned.
Selene was gone.
And Lyra this impossible child was motherless.
A knock shattered the silence.
Not hurried. Not polite.
Just… final.
Valerius froze.
He tucked Lyra into a velvet cloak and laid her gently near the fire.
Then rose, wiping his face with a blood-smeared cloth. His grief locked away beneath centuries of practiced stillness.
He cracked the door open.
Kaelen stood outside.
Tall, Regal, Dressed in crimson like this was a goddamn opera.
Valerius didn't need to ask why he was here. He could already feel the contempt rolling off him like perfume.
"Valerius," Kaelen said, voice cool and cutting.
He didn't come in. Just let his gaze drift past the vampire lord, soaking in the bloodied bed, the limp body, the crying child.
His mouth curled in something halfway between a smirk and a sneer.
"So, The mongrel lives. And the beast dies for her mistake."
Then, a pause.
"A wolf pup, born of a vampire's ruin. An abomination and a violation of the order we protect."
Valerius didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
He was too broken, too tired, too full of fire to pretend.
"Get out," he said quietly, fangs extending with the words.
"Before I forget I ever considered you kin."
Kaelen's eyes narrowed.
"My issue was always with your mate. Not her spawn. But don't delude yourself, Valerius. That thing in there? It belongs to no world. It'll bring ruin to whatever it touches."
He stepped backward into the shadows.
"You have my condolences. A pureblood lost… for a worthless half breed mistake."
Then he was gone.
Valerius slammed the door.
The echo throbbed in the stone walls like a wound.
He stood still for a long time, forehead resting against the wood.
Kaelen's words lingered like poison.
Abomination. Violation. Worthless.
He turned.
Lyra stared up at him.
Eyes wide. Silent now. Watching the candlelight flicker like it might tell her something.
Valerius knelt beside her.
Touched her cheek.
Soft. Warm. Alive.
She was Selene's daughter.
His daughter.
"No," he whispered.
Not just a word.
A vow.
He lifted her gently, careful like the world might break her too.
Felt her heartbeat racing, fierce against his cold chest.
"You're not worthless, Lyra. You are my blood. You are everything."
His voice shook, but he didn't stop.
"And I will protect you. I swear it. On your mother's name. On what's left of me."
Outside, the storm howled on, uncaring.
Inside, Valerius held the first Werepire in his arms small, vulnerable, and dangerous in ways neither of them could yet understand.
He didn't know how to raise a child.
Didn't know how to be a father.
But he knew one thing:
No one would take her from him.
Not the world.
Not fate itself.