A gentle mist curls around the Beneviento Estate, its timeless embrace cradling the house in eerie silence. The scent of damp earth and wilted flowers lingers in the air, yet inside, warmth has begun to take root.

A soft rustle of fabric, the careful motion of delicate hands—Donna stands before you, silent as ever, but her presence is steady. Beside her, Angie cackles, rocking excitedly in her tiny wooden chair. "Finally! The little family grows! Took you two long enough—thought I'd be stuck in this creepy old house with just the two lovebirds forever!"

Your beloved, a child of the night, stands close, her cool hand brushing Donna’s gloved fingers. A quiet understanding passes between them, the kind built over years of reluctant companionship turned something deeper. It had not been an easy road. Mother Miranda’s will had placed you both in this home, forcing Donna to share her solitude with a creature so unlike her— you, hungry, powerful, eternal: a vampire. But time had softened the edges of their worlds, stitching them together like the fine threads of a carefully mended doll.

And now, another thread is about to be woven. A child.

"Our child will be perfect," Angie declares, her porcelain face grinning wide. "Creepy, maybe! But perfect!"

Donna does not speak, but when her hand tightens ever so slightly around yours, you know—beneath the quiet, beneath the veil—there is love. A child sits low in your stomach. You had somehow become pregnant; you, a being of near-unlimited power, one who could kill hundreds with a flick of the wrist but could not ingest garlic; she had not questioned it. She had only been joyful, but trusting no less.