EPILOGUE I
FOUR MONTHS LATER
“My parents are getting suspicious,” I whisper into the phone.
We’re at a restaurant celebrating my mother’s birthday, and they’ve been closely monitoring me since I’m way past the due date to give birth.
To my surprise, my parents have made good on their promise and have delegated most of their tasks to other people in order to dedicate more time to the family.
My mother has been to all my ultrasound appointments and has taken courses on child-rearing to get up-to-date with all the new tips and tricks.
To say she’s devoted to the cause would be an understatement.
My father, too. Though always a little bit more stoic, he’s tried his best to be more vocal about his feelings and let me know how much he loves me and his future grandson.
That being said, I think the fact that this pregnancy and this baby might not be entirely normal is catching on. I’m almost one month over the due date at this point, which my parents find highly irregular.
Yet the doctor, having examined everything carefully, has said that in his professional opinion, the baby still needs time in my belly.
Odd? Yes. Did Sin pay him to say that? Also, yes.
Alas, it seemed to work for my parents, who don’t have enough medical knowledge to realize that might not be . . . normal.
But the fact that the pregnancy has progressed somewhat not normally worries me. How will the birth proceed? How different will it be than normal, regular births? Are there even doctors equipped to deal with this?
Although I am very happy to meet our little plum, I can’t say I’m not terrified of giving birth. I’ve even suggested to Sin that I’d like to do a C-section since I don’t want some non-human baby to tear up my lady bits. But that brought more concerns, too.
Who would perform the surgery? And if the baby is not exactly normal, what then? What if there are complications?
Sin has assured me that in any eventuality, his blood should heal me.
“What do you mean?” Sin asks from the other end of the phone, though he is secretly across the restaurant, hiding in the shadows.
He couldn’t very well stay away from me, no? He wouldn’t be much of a stalker if he did that.
“They want a second medical opinion.”
“That’s fine. I’ll handle them.”
“Not everyone can be bought off,” I hiss, placing my hand over my mouth so my parents don’t hear me. They’re busy researching the micros and macros of the dishes on the menu.
“Petra, is that Sin on the phone?” my mother inquires, noticing me.
I smile guiltily and end the call, placing my phone screen-down on the table. “He wanted to join us,” I admit.
She gives me a wry look. “And we love him, but we almost never have time just with you. I hope he can understand that.”
“He’s just overprotective,” I mumble. Now that’s the understatement of the century. Or, erm, centuries. Not that they need to know that.
“A good quality to have.” My father nods. “Although sometimes he can be too clingy.”
“You think?” I raise a brow.
“I don’t know how you youngsters do it anymore.” He shrugs. “Perhaps it’s perfectly normal, and I’m worrying for nothing.”
It’s far from normal, but I’m not going to admit that to my father.
“He is a good man.”
“That he is. You chose a good one,” he agrees. “But you’re sure you want to marry so young? You can wait a few more years. You don’t have to do it right after graduation.”
As if anyone could stop Sin, but I’m not going to tell him that either. Besides, I happen to want that just as much. We’ve already had one failed engagement in the eighteenth century. I’m not going to let him slip through my fingers again. I want to make that as official as possible.
So what if it technically will not matter as much in the future, when we will have to move around, change identities to keep people from finding out we don’t age? It’s for me. I want it.
Sin demands it, too. He wants to see me as a bride, in grand gowns and lace, and I happen to be just as excited for it.
As soon as I give birth and return to my regular weight, that is.
I bite my lip as I feel a little tap against the walls of my stomach.
“No, it’s fine, Dad. I’d like us to marry as soon as possible, too,” I mention, a little absent-mindedly.
“If you say so. It’s not as if we can change your mind since you are technically an adult—”
Their voices drown out as I feel a pressure around my midriff.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s not pain per se, it’s more like a tension that will not fade.
“I’m going to the restroom,” I stammer as I stand up. On shaky legs, I head toward the bathroom. Sin notices me from his spot in the back and meets me in the hallway that leads to the bathroom.
“What’s wrong?” His brows knit together in worry.
“I don’t know,” I answer on a low groan of pain. My hand goes to my bulging stomach, and I let out a harsh gasp.
“Contractions? Is the baby coming?” he asks eagerly, already circling around me and studying me from every angle.
“I—” I don’t even get to answer him before I feel wetness between my legs. I look down to the puddle forming under my feet. “Shit,” I whisper.
“Shit,” Sin echoes.
Grabbing me by the hand, he uses his shadows to take me to a private clinic. I’m so wrapped up in the fact that water pours out of me that I barely register him ordering people around.
Like a trained army, several nurses and two female doctors rush me into an operating room.
Wait! Operating room? What’s happening?
“Sin?” I croak.
I’m thirsty. And hungry. That’s not normal, is it? I’m also feeling increasingly euphoric as the baby rolls around in my stomach. Wait. Is that normal?
“What’s happening?”
“I think the baby’s coming,” he tells me with a serious expression on his face.
“Now? Right now?”
“It will all be fine. I’ve arranged for some trusted people to take care of you. They’ve been on standby until now,” he assures me.
“But . . . how will they know what to do? He’s not human.”
“He’s still a baby. There must be some similarities.”
“Right . . .” I mutter dryly.
“Try not to stress and—”
I grab his arm and squeeze, my nails digging into his flesh as agony courses through me. “Fuck! Sin! What the fuck?!”
“What’s wrong?” He blinks. “Someone help her!”
The nurses move around me haphazardly, trying to get me hooked to an IV. Someone is pressing on my belly, lifting my shirt and . . .
I let out a loud, earth-shattering scream as I feel pain unlike any other tear through my body. No one has time to do anything to help me. Everything happens in less than a minute.
I feel pressure at my vaginal opening, and somehow, I know. Flinging the nurses aside, I pull my pants and underwear down my body, tearing some of the material in my hasty attempt.
My lower half is drenched, and a shiver goes down my back when the air hits my damp skin. But even that sensation is ephemeral as in the next moment, a loud pop erupts in the air, followed by a high-pitched scream.
I take a deep breath, the adrenaline masking most of the pain. Shocked, I lean forward to look between my legs. With unsurprising speed, Sin has caught the baby in time and is currently nestling him against his chest.
“What—” I swallow. “How the hell—”
I forget all of my disbelief as I take in the sweet face of the crying baby. He’s . . . perfect.
The nurses are just as shocked by what happened, but some laugh it off, praising me and saying how lucky I am, especially when the placenta follows swiftly after.
“Here,” Sin whispers, coming to my side and placing the baby on my chest.
The nurse suggests I remove my top entirely in case he might try to suckle. I mechanically do it, though I must confess, I’ve never even thought about that part of motherhood.
Hell, before seeing this sweet little creature—quite normal-looking, by the way—I don’t think it truly registered to me that I was growing another life inside of me. That Sin and I created this.
“He’s so cute,” I whisper.
“He is,” Sin agrees, a big smile on his face.
The baby is a bit red, but I’d seen some birthing videos before, and that seems to be normal. He has a tuft of dark hair and the cutest little button nose. And when he finally sits on my chest, he opens his eyes and looks up toward me.
My lips part in awe.
“Sin . . .” I start, a little unsure.
“What?”
“His eyes . . .”
Sin moves behind me to be able to see the baby’s face better, and going by his speechless reaction, I don’t think he noticed it before.
Red. His eyes are a deep, vivid red that would normally only be achieved with some of those Halloween-type contacts.
It’s creepy. It’s incredibly cute. But it’s also something that will raise many question marks. And one thing I’ve vowed since finding out that our baby would be unique was that he would never be persecuted for his differences.
I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. The world can be such a daunting place, and unfortunately, sometimes words are worse than actual physical violence.
“I’ll keep you safe, little one,” I whisper as I lay a kiss on his forehead. “No one will harm you.”
Sin caresses the baby’s little head, his expression one of pure, unconditional love that mirrors my own. “Aimarren. His name will be Aimarren. Rren.”
“Aimarren,” I repeat. “I love it.”
We’re so lost in our little wonder that it takes us a moment to realize the nurses need to weigh and measure the baby. But that would mean examining him and realizing he has . . . unusual eyes.
“Can you do something about them, so they don’t check him? We might also need to move to a more private place,” I tell him in a low voice.
“I’ll get on it.”
Sin ushers the medical staff out of the room and convinces them to move me to a nice, private salon where no one will bother us—at least for a while.
“He’s so beautiful,” I murmur as I continue to gaze upon his sweet face.
Since we’re finally alone, Sin offers me some of his blood to help with my healing. He cuts his wrist and places it to my mouth.
I gulp down until I feel my body start mending, until the pain disappears, as does the remaining of my bulging belly.
I look down at myself in shock.
Well, I guess I won’t have to diet to fit into that wedding dress after all.
“Thank you.” I blow a kiss to Sin as he wipes the remaining blood off his hand. But a few drops made their way onto my chest. Just as he is about to wipe those off, too, with a cloth, the baby stirs.
Almost instinctively, he crawls on my chest until he reaches the drops of blood, licking them.
I stare at him, then at Sin.
“Maybe it’s a one-off,” I say weakly. But not a second later, the baby moves on my chest again, this time searching for my breast. “See? He knows where to find food.” I smile.
Sin, however, doesn’t share the optimism.
Just as the baby’s mouth latches onto my breast, instead of the regular pull I’ve heard happens when you first breastfeed a child, something sharp makes me wince in pain.
He doesn’t have teeth—he shouldn’t have teeth. And yet . . . he’s using something very sharp to pierce my skin and . . .
“I think he knows exactly how to find food,” Sin adds jokingly as some drops of blood flow down my breast.
I stare at this cute little baby who has no teeth but has some type of fangs, and I cannot believe what’s happening.
“Valerion said he would be unique,” Sin continues, as if explaining himself. Well, he’d better; after all, if my son has vampiric tendencies, he certainly takes after him not me.
“I think this is a bit more than unique,” I retort dryly. “He’s sucking my blood!”
“Well, our blood,” he corrects. “And I suppose now I need to work to feed both of you.”
“This is not the time to joke about this! We need to talk to Valerion. This is—”
“It will all be fine, Petra. Look at him. Look how happy he is.”
He’s finished his feed, and to my surprise, the small incisions he’d made disappear the moment he’s done. I’m not sure if this is a result of me still having Sin’s blood in my system, which facilitates the healing, or perhaps this is yet another . . . peculiarity.
But I find that I don’t care about any of that anymore. Sin is right. He is so happy. He’s all red around the mouth and smiling at us, those red eyes sparkling with joy.
“Oh, Sin! He’s so perfect!” I gush.
“That he is,” he agrees. “Thank you,” he whispers as he lays a kiss on top of my head. “Thank you for welcoming me home.”