"Does someone who doesn't even know what she is... deserve to be a mother?" I whispered into the suffocating, heavy darkness of my chamber.
The air felt thick, charged with the remnant of Varg's scent and the lingering chill of the Alberta night. The hybrid 'freakishness' within me, that loud, chaotic legacy left behind by the Vampire Lady's ancient blood, felt like a storm that would drown any innocent life.
My blood felt 'dirty,' a cocktail of survival and predatory instincts that left no room for the soft, nurturing warmth a child would need.
I looked down at my body, my hand hovering over my stomach as if addressing a phantom or a ghost that hadn't yet decided to haunt me.
"You..." I said, my voice trembling with a mix of grief and a warning that tasted like iron.
