In a world where everything seems perfectly logical and pragmatic. The thought of anything existing outside of the realm of what one already knows seems impractical.
That is how Melinda Morrison sees life.
The very life where she has shared nearly e...
What seeps into the blood and stirs in the shadows of the night births a true parasite, relentless and insidious.
The crackling of the fireplace filled the chamber as I sat across from Kiraz in our private study. The warmth of the evening was deceptive, a fleeting comfort against the strange unease prickling at the edges of my thoughts. The day had been long, filled with council meetings and discussions about regional disputes, but nothing unusual enough to justify this lingering tension.
Today, my aversion to Kiraz had somewhat subsided a rare reprieve in the unpredictable turbulence of a sorcerer's pregnancy. I could tolerate seeing his face and hearing his voice without the usual irritation that had plagued me for weeks. Still, I wondered how long this fragile peace would last.
The steady scratching of my pen against parchment filled the room as I worked through yet another diplomatic proposal. Kiraz sat nearby, poring over maps and reports, his brow furrowed in concentration. Occasionally, he would hum softly—a rhythm that, though I'd never admit it aloud, anchored my wandering thoughts.
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"You're restless again," Kiraz said, his voice breaking the quiet. He didn't look up, his tone gentle but laced with the insight of someone who had known me far too long.
I sighed, setting my pen down and pressing a hand to my rounded belly. The baby stirred faintly beneath my palm, fluttering like the wings of a tiny bird. I stilled, the sensation pulling me out of my tangled thoughts. "She's moving," I said softly, my voice tinged with awe. "The baby's moving."
Kiraz's head snapped up, his usual calm giving way to a boyish eagerness that softened his sharp features. In an instant, he was at my side, kneeling before me. "Can I feel?" He asked, his voice hushed with anticipation.
I nodded, guiding his hand to where the faint movements were strongest. His palm pressed against my belly, warm and steady. For a moment, we both held our breaths, and then—there it was. Another flutter.
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Kiraz's face lit up with wonder, his eyes shining as if he had glimpsed some profound secret of the universe. "It's incredible," He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "That's... that's our child."
