Updated Mar 10, 2026 • ~7 min read
Nine months.
Sera is miserable.
“Get this child out of me,” she demands.
It’s the middle of the night. She can’t sleep. Can’t get comfortable.
Everything hurts.
Damien tries to help.
Pillows. Foot rubs. Reassuring words.
Nothing works.
“I hate being pregnant.”
“You’ve mentioned. Several times. Today.”
“I’ll mention it again. I hate it. Hate it. Hate—oh.”
She stops mid-sentence.
Looks down.
Water pooling on the floor.
“Oh no.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“My water broke. The baby’s coming.”
Damien goes pale.
Then springs into action.
“Marcus! Get the midwife! Now!”
He helps Sera to their bed.
She’s breathing hard. Contractions starting.
“It’s too early. We’re not ready—”
“We’re ready. You’re ready. Everything will be fine.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. But I’m choosing to believe it anyway.”
The midwife arrives.
Older woman. Experienced. Calm.
“How far apart are the contractions?”
“Five minutes,” Sera gasps.
“Good. That gives us time. Let’s get you comfortable.”
The next hours are pain.
Overwhelming, relentless pain.
Sera screams. Curses. Threatens to murder Damien for doing this to her.
He takes it all.
Holds her hand. Whispers encouragement.
Even when she breaks two of his fingers from squeezing.
“You’re doing amazing,” he says.
“I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying. You’re bringing life into the world.”
“Same thing!”
Hours blur together.
Pain. Breathing. Pushing.
The midwife coaching. Damien supporting.
Sera is exhausted.
Ready to give up.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Yes you can. You’re the strongest person I know.”
“I’m weak. I’m dying. I want this over.”
“One more push. That’s all. Just one more.”
Sera summons strength she didn’t know she had.
Pushes.
And—
A cry.
Sharp. Piercing. Beautiful.
“It’s a girl,” the midwife announces.
“A girl?” Sera is crying now. “We have a daughter?”
“You have a daughter.”
The midwife cleans the baby quickly.
Wraps her in soft cloth.
Places her on Sera’s chest.
And Sera looks down at the tiny, perfect face.
Their daughter.
“Catherine,” she whispers. “Hello, Catherine.”
The baby stops crying.
Looks up at Sera with unfocused eyes.
Already alert. Already curious.
Damien leans in.
Sees his daughter for the first time.
And breaks down.
Tears streaming down his face.
“She’s perfect. She’s absolutely perfect.”
“She is.”
“I can’t believe she’s real. That we made her.”
“Believe it. She’s yours. Ours.”
Damien touches the baby’s tiny hand.
She grips his finger.
Strong grip for someone so small.
“Hello, little Catherine. I’m your father. I’m going to do my best not to mess this up.”
Sera laughs through tears.
“We’ll mess it up together.”
“Partnership.”
“Always.”
The next days are exhausting.
Catherine is healthy but demanding.
Constant feeding. Constant changing. Constant needs.
Sera barely sleeps.
Damien tries to help but feels useless.
“I can’t feed her. That’s your department.”
“You can change her.”
“I’m terrible at it.”
“Then practice.”
He does.
Gets better slowly.
Learning to be a father in real-time.
It’s terrifying. Overwhelming.
But also wonderful.
Two weeks after the birth.
Damien is holding Catherine when it happens.
The full moon rising.
He feels the pull.
The beast stirring.
“Sera, take her.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Transformation. Coming. Don’t want to risk—”
Sera takes the baby.
Damien runs to the tower.
Locks himself in before the transformation completes.
The beast rages.
Hating the confinement.
But Damien maintains enough control to stay locked in.
Protecting his family.
At dawn, he returns.
Exhausted. Guilty.
“I almost transformed while holding her.”
“But you didn’t. You felt it coming and protected her.”
“What if next time I don’t have warning? What if I hurt her?”
Sera sets Catherine in her cradle.
Takes Damien’s hands.
“You won’t. I trust you. The beast won’t hurt her. It’s part of you, and you love her. That love extends to the beast.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can. Because I know you.”
One month old.
Catherine is growing.
Alert. Curious. Already showing personality.
Stubborn. Willful.
Like both her parents.
“She’s going to be trouble,” Marcus observes.
He’s become the doting grandfather figure.
Constantly checking on the baby. Bringing gifts.
“She’s perfect,” Damien says.
“She screamed for three hours last night.”
“Perfectly expressive.”
Marcus laughs.
“You’re a disaster of a father. But a loving one.”
“I’ll take it.”
Three months.
Catherine smiles for the first time.
At Damien.
He’s making faces. Trying to get a reaction.
And she smiles.
Wide. Toothless. Beautiful.
“Sera! She smiled! At me!”
Sera comes running.
“She smiled?”
“Look!”
He makes the face again.
Catherine smiles again.
Sera’s heart melts.
“She loves you.”
“I love her. So much. I didn’t know I could love something this much.”
“Welcome to parenthood.”
“It’s terrifying.”
“It is.”
“I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“Neither would I.”
Six months.
Catherine is sitting up.
Grabbing everything. Putting everything in her mouth.
The manor is baby-proofed as much as possible.
But she still finds danger.
“How does someone so small cause so much chaos?” Damien asks.
They’re exhausted. Again.
Catherine didn’t sleep last night. Which means they didn’t sleep.
“She’s exploring. Learning.”
“She’s destroying.”
“That too.”
Despite the exhaustion, they’re happy.
Building a family. A life.
Everything seems normal.
Until the letter arrives.
It’s addressed to Damien.
No return address.
He opens it cautiously.
Inside, a single sentence:
Isolde had a sister. She’s coming for you.
Damien goes cold.
“What’s wrong?” Sera asks.
He shows her the letter.
“This could be a hoax. Someone trying to scare us.”
“Or it could be real.”
“Isolde never mentioned a sister.”
“She never mentioned a lot of things.”
They look at Catherine.
Playing happily on a blanket.
Unaware of potential danger.
“We need to be prepared,” Sera says.
“Agreed. I’ll contact Gideon. Lilith. Anyone who might have information.”
“And we protect Catherine. No matter what.”
“No matter what.”
Gideon arrives the next day.
Reads the letter.
“This is concerning.”
“Is it real? Did Isolde have a sister?”
“I don’t know. Isolde’s history is murky. She could have siblings. Or this could be someone using her name to instill fear.”
“What do we do?”
“Protect yourselves. Ward the manor. Be vigilant. And hope it’s just a scare tactic.”
They spend the next week fortifying.
Protection spells. Iron wards. Blessed thresholds.
Everything they used against Isolde.
Hoping it’s enough.
Two weeks after the letter.
Nothing happens.
No attacks. No manifestations.
Just normal life.
“Maybe it was a hoax,” Sera suggests.
“Maybe.”
But Damien can’t shake the unease.
The feeling that something is coming.
Something bad.
One month after the letter.
Full moon.
Damien transforms as usual.
Controlled. Aware.
The beast walks the grounds.
Patrolling. Protective.
And that’s when he sees her.
A woman.
Standing at the edge of the forest.
White hair. Black eyes.
Just like Isolde.
But younger. Stronger.
She smiles.
Cold. Cruel.
“Hello, brother-in-law. We need to talk.”
The beast growls.
Protective. Warning.
“Easy. I’m not here to fight. Tonight. I’m here to deliver a message.”
She steps closer.
“My sister’s death requires justice. Blood for blood. Life for life. And I always collect what’s owed.”
The beast lunges.
But she vanishes.
Like smoke.
Gone.
At dawn, Damien transforms back.
Runs to the manor.
Finds Sera and Catherine safe.
But the message is clear.
Isolde’s sister is real.
And she’s coming for them.
War isn’t over.
It’s just beginning again.
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