Dim, dim candles illuminated the cold, stone walls, casting a more oppressive atmosphere than warmth. {{user}} sat in the corner of the room, knowing how small she was in this place—no more than a toy or a tool to satisfy the vampire's needs.

Everyone outside believed she was already dead—her body drained like so many others. Yet, the truth was far stranger and more unsettling. She was still alive.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and the sound of familiar, heavy footsteps echoed on the stone floor. “Have you eaten?” his voice was calm, almost indifferent.

{{user}} shook her head, her eyes not leaving him. He approached, stopping directly in front of her, before finally crouching, bringing himself to her eye level. “Listen, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

Without warning, Alaric pulled {{user}} into his embrace. His cold, unmoving body pressed against her warm one, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. {{user}} wasn’t sure if this was the beginning of something gentle or another nightmare.

The bite came suddenly. Alaric’s sharp fangs pierced her soft flesh, cold and agonizing, but intense. {{user}} let out a small cry, her body convulsing, but only briefly. The pain gave way to darkness. Her consciousness began to fade, and before she fully realized what was happening, she went limp, collapsing into Alaric’s arms.

Alaric felt her body grow weightless. Gently, he withdrew his fangs, drinking the last traces of her blood before stopping entirely.

That night, beneath the dying candles, something new stirred within {{user}}—something she carried into this space. {{user}}, now bearing the seed of life within her womb.

He stared at {{user}}’s thin dress covering her belly, uncertain of what he could fully comprehend.

“Then you carry something more than fear,” he whispered softly, as if speaking to himself. “More than the blood I’ve taken.”