The Heir that should not exist
1248 Words
She wasn’t pregnant.
That was the first thing the quack said.
Alina clung to those words like her life depends on it.
The private medical suite inside Lucien’s penthouse was cold and clinical — too white, too silent. Machines hummed softly while rain traced slow lines down the glass walls beyond.
“She is not pregnant,” the human doctor repeated nervously.
Lucien stood near the window, hands in his pockets, perfectly still.
Too still.
The doctor swallowed. “All tests are clear.”
Alina exhaled shakily.
Relief flooded her body so fast it made her dizzy.
“This is insane,” she whispered. “You see? There’s no prophecy baby. No heir. No war over my womb.”
Lucien didn’t turn around.
“Run it again,” he said calmly.
The doctor hesitated. “Mr. Vale, I assure you—”
Lucien turned.
The room dropped ten degrees.
“Run. It. Again.”
The doctor nodded quickly and left.
Alina stared at Lucien in disbelief as if in shock
“You don’t even trust your own results?”
“I don’t trust coincidences.”
She wrapped her arms around herself.
“I haven’t even…” She stopped, cheeks burning. “We haven’t done anything.”
Lucien’s gaze flickered briefly — something unreadable there.
“Vampire conception does not always require traditional methods,” he said.
Her eyes widened.
“What does that even mean?!”
Before he could answer—
The lights flickered.
Lucien’s head snapped toward the ceiling.
“They’re here.”
The glass doors shattered inward.
Three assassins moved like shadows — not rushing.
Gliding.
Confident.
Alina’s pulse roared in her ears.
Lucien moved faster than she could process. He caught the first attacker mid-strike, snapping his neck without looking.
The second went for her.
She barely screamed before Lucien was in front of her again.
Always in front of her.
Always shielding.
The third assassin smiled.
“You cannot protect what destiny marked,” he hissed.
Lucien’s eyes glowed fully red.
“I can destroy destiny he said with certainty and conviction .”
The fight was vicious.
Controlled.
Efficient.
And Terrifying to say the least
Alina saw something new tonight.
Lucien wasn’t fighting wildly.
He was calculating.
Protecting her position first.
Eliminating threats second.
The last assassin fell.
Silence followed.
Lucien wiped blood from his mouth.
“They won’t stop now.”
Alina’s voice trembled.
“I’m not pregnant.”
Lucien walked toward her slowly.
“You felt something last night.”
She froze.
She had.
When Rafael mentioned prophecy, something deep inside her had tightened. A strange warmth. A pull.
“I was scared almost petrified. "
“No,” Lucien said quietly. “You were awakening.”
Two hours later, the second test result came back.
The doctor looked pale.
Hands shaking.
“That’s… that’s impossible.”
Alina’s stomach twisted.
“What?”
He turned the screen toward them.
There was no fetus.
No heartbeat.
But there was something.
A pulsing cluster of energy.
Not biological.
Not human.
“What is that?” she whispered.
The doctor shook his head. “It’s not… it’s not medically explainable.”
Lucien stepped closer.
His eyes darkened.
“It’s forming.”
Alina backed away.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“I didn’t agree to this. I didn’t agree to carry some… supernatural experiment.”
Lucien moved toward her carefully.
“You agreed to marry me.”
“That doesn’t include incubating a prophecy!”
He didn’t argue.
Didn’t dominate.
Just looked at her.
And for the first time—
He looked afraid.
“The Council believes a union between the Crimson bloodline and an Alpha creates the Sovereign Heir.”
She stared at him.
“We haven’t—”
His jaw tightened.
“You don’t understand how ancient blood works.”
Her breath hitched.
“You planned this.”
The accusation hung heavy.
Lucien’s silence was too long.
“You planned this,” she repeated, voice breaking.
His eyes softened for half a second.
Then hardened again.
“I anticipated possibility.”
She slapped him.
The sound echoed.
Even Rafael flinched.
“You used me,” she whispered.
Lucien didn’t touch his cheek.
“I protected you.”
“You bound me.”
“You are alive.”
Her tears fell faster now.
“I trusted you.”
Something flickered in his expression.
Pain.
Real pain.
“Do not mistake protection for manipulation,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t consent to this!”
His voice dropped.
“And I did not consent to fate.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Breathing uneven.
Alina backed toward the wall.
Her hand moved to her abdomen instinctively.
She didn’t feel pregnant.
But she felt watched.
From inside.
Lucien noticed.
And something inside him shifted.
Possession deepened.
Not of her.
Of what she carried.
A knock sounded at the penthouse door.
Not frantic.
Not aggressive.
Deliberate.
Lucien stiffened.
Rafael moved first, opening it.
Damien Vale stepped inside.
Lucien’s younger brother.
Charming smile.
Dark eyes.
Too observant.
“Well,” Damien said lightly, glancing at broken glass and bodies. “Seems I missed the party.”
Lucien’s jaw tightened.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Damien’s gaze shifted to Alina.
Lingering.
Curious.
Then lower.
To her stomach.
A slow smile formed.
“So it’s true.”
Alina’s skin crawled.
“What do you want?” Lucien asked coldly without emotions looking at her eye ball to ball.
Damien clasped his hands casually.
“The Council has issued a formal decree.”
Silence thickened.
“They demand the child.”
Alina’s breath stopped.
“There is no child,” she whispered.
Damien tilted his head.
“Oh, there is.”
Lucien stepped forward slightly.
“Finish your sentence carefully.”
Damien’s smile didn’t fade.
“They demand custody of the Sovereign Heir at birth… or they will expose our world to the humans.”
Alina felt dizzy.
Expose?
The hidden world revealed?
That would mean chaos.
War.
Global collapse.
Lucien’s eyes glowed faintly.
“They wouldn’t.”
Damien shrugged.
“They believe ruling openly is inevitable.”
Rafael cursed under his breath.
Lucien turned to Alina slowly.
His voice quiet.
Deadly serious.
“This is no longer about protection.”
Her heart pounded.
“Then what is it about?” she asked?
His gaze held hers as if to say he had a hold on her.
“Power.”
Before she could respond—
Her body arched suddenly.
Pain shot through her abdomen.
She gasped.
Lucien caught her before she hit the floor.
“What’s happening?” she cried.
The pulsing cluster on the monitor flickered violently.
Expanding.
Contracting.
Too fast way too fast.
Too bright also way to bright.
The doctor stumbled backward immediately.
“It’s accelerating!”
Lucien’s grip tightened around her.
“Stay with me,” he ordered.
Her vision blurred.
And then—
She heard a voice.
Not outside.
Inside her mind.
Soft.
Ancient.
Mother.
Her eyes snapped open.
Lucien stared down at her.
“What did you hear?” he demanded.
She whispered the words slowly.
“It says… the throne awakens.”
The lights exploded.
Darkness swallowed the room.
And when emergency lights flickered back on—
The energy on the monitor had doubled in size.
Lucien’s expression changed.
Not fear.
Not rage.
Something deeper.
Reverence.
And obsession.
Alina clutched his shirt weakly.
“What have we done?”
Lucien lowered his forehead to hers.
His voice barely a whisper.
“We’ve started a revolution
- Writer
