Petals of Blood | Vampire Knight

CHAPTER 3

The moonlight shone beautifully through the window, casting a soft glow in the dark room. Inside, an array of cute dolls was neatly lined up in one corner, seemingly arranged with great care.

Toys, blocks and cars, were scattered across the plush carpet, creating the perfect play area for a baby.

In the center of the room stood a white wooden cradle, adorned with small, colorful flowers. The craftsmanship was exquisite, a masterpiece that spoke of patience, effort, and love.

Inside the cradle lay a beautiful, quiet baby. His soft, long lashes rested on his pale skin like a butterfly’s wings, his rosy cheeks plump, and his lips a gentle shade of red, as delicate as roses.

His skin, pale as snow, gave him the appearance of a living doll. It was almost surreal how inhumanly beautiful he looked, even for a baby.

It seemed the moon agreed, as its light extended, illuminating the cradle and making the baby appear even more ethereal.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the curtains aside, casting the room into shadow as a man appeared by the window.

His presence seemed to swallow the light, a dark figure with untamed hair swaying in the wind. His heterochromatic eyes, one a deep rose-wine and the other a dark blue, stared at the sleeping child with fascination.

Gently, he reached out, brushing a finger across the baby’s soft cheek, marveling at the sensation.

As he gazed down at the baby, memories of another child filled his mind, his sister, Juuri. He remembered holding her as a baby, filled with emotions as he gazed at her tiny face.

But unlike Juuri, who had been an energetic child, constantly squirming and whining, this baby was calm, his breathing even and peaceful.

Being a pureblood vampire came with certain heightened senses: hearing every footstep, every breath, the heartbeat of those around them. Even newborn purebloods possessed this natural alertness. Yet, this child remained sound asleep.

“Is it because he's weak?” the man mused, his thoughts turning disdainful as he recalled the baby’s father, his own pathetic little brother. He was certain the boy had inherited his father’s weakness.

Almost as if sensing the man’s disdain, the baby’s long lashes fluttered, like a butterfly preparing to take flight.

The man smirked slightly, eager to see what he had been wondering since the moment he laid eyes on the child.

“Will he have Juuri’s eyes?”

His curiosity was rewarded when the baby finally opened his eyes, revealing a pair of rose-wine irises. the same color as his own. The baby blinked a few times, his chubby hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

He yawned softly before locking eyes with the man, tilting his little head in confusion, as if trying to carve the man’s image into his tiny mind.

If anyone had seen this scene, they would be shocked, for the man, known for his ruthlessness, let out a quiet chuckle.

The sound was low, alluring, the kind that could make a woman’s knees weak. But no one was there to hear it, only the confused baby.

The man gently lifted the baby from the cradle, cradling him in his arms.

What a unique, fearless little cub Juuri and that vermin had produced. Normally, he hated babies, they would start wailing the moment they sensed his presence, something he found both noisy and bothersome. Juuri had been the only exception. And now, it seemed this boy shared that distinction.