Blood Awakening: The Strongest Hybrid and His Vampire Bride

Nikolai’s eyes opened to silence.

No alarms. No footsteps. Just the low hum of filtered air and the faint tick of a mechanical clock above the fireplace.

He was back in his chambers.

A faint light shone through the gaps of his black curtains, which helped block most of the sunlight. It was probably Selene who closed them to help avoid disturbing him. Nikolai noticed the scent of blood vanished, along with his dirty clothes. Though Selene and Leona helped clean and dress his wounds, the smell of ammonia didn’t fade.

He tried to move, shifting to test his legs and arms, but the dull ache jolted down his spine, causing him to gasp and knock his phone onto the floor.

”You’re awake?”

Selene’s figure entered his view—she sat near the window, quietly reading a book.

A book about childcare and being a mother.

She didn’t stand, only lifted her lips and smiled at him. She was already dressed in a formal black — dress, slit only at the thigh. Her red eyes were sharp, not soft and clearly hadn’t forgotten what he did last night.

The beauty was here because they were waiting.

Nikolai sat up slowly, pushing his body upright with both palms. The movement sent a spike of pressure through his side, not pain, but weight.

”How long?” he asked.

”Three days. You slept through two reports, one assassination attempt, and a council summons.”

Nikolai blinked at her, rubbing the side of his face.

”An assassination attempt?” he muttered. ”Only one?”

Selene turned a page.

”We think it was a warning. Or bait.”

”Did they send anyone I know?”

”Leona dealt with it before they got past the gates.” She glanced at him over the top of the book.

He smiled faintly, but didn’t answer. Sitting up still felt like dragging a corpse out of water. His back ached. His side pulled with every breath. The worst part wasn’t the wounds—it was the exhaustion under his skin, like something inside had burned out and hadn’t come back.

”Who’s angry?” he asked.

She shrugged. ”The Council wants answers. The alliance heads want reassurance.”

”I see...”

Nikolai lowered himself, wincing as he reached for his phone on the floor, but a hand appeared in his vision. Selene stood and picked it up before he could bend again. Then handed it to him with a slight frown, her fingers brushing against his hand.

”You shouldn’t be moving,” she said, more softly this time.

”I can’t lie in bed while people are sharpening blades.”

She exhaled, but didn’t argue.

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence.

Then Nikolai’s eyes dropped to the book in her other hand.

”…Childcare?”

”You’re reading up on being a mother?”

Selene didn’t look away. ”I was bored.”

”You hate manuals.”

”I’m not reading the rules,” she said, setting it down on the table beside her. ”I’m reading the warnings.”

Selene didn’t answer at first. Just let him read the cover.

She sat back down, adjusted the hem of her dress, then gave a slow nod. ”It was Kumiko’s. She left it by mistake.”

That was a lie; he could see her eyebrows lifting, and her lips pouting, a sign of her lying.

”You’re reading it.”

”I’m checking if it’s worth burning.”

Nikolai let his head rest against the pillow. ”And?”

Selene flipped another page. ”It’s basic. Talks about food cravings, nausea, back pain, changes in sleep.”

She turned another page, slower this time. ”Birth plans. Pain relief. How to hold a newborn properly. The tone’s a little soft… like it expects the mother to cry every chapter.”

Nikolai let his head sink back into the pillow.

”You hate it.”

”I’m still reading.”

”…How far along?”

”Four months.”

He opened his eyes again.

”You’re sure?”

”I can feel it,” she said, hand resting briefly over her lower stomach. ”She’s like you.”

He glanced at her stomach, then back at her face.

”She?”

Selene didn’t correct him.

Instead, she walked over to the bed and sat beside him, leaning on his shoulder.

Her voice dropped lower.

”Don’t get hurt again,” she whispered.

”I’ll try.”

”You’re shit at trying.”

”I know.”

They stayed like that for a moment—warm, silent, breathing in sync.

But he heard Selene sigh, her head lifting from his shoulder as she looked angry, before closing the book and setting it aside on the table. ”We should go... they’re waiting downstairs.”

”Who?”

”Amphitrite. Lunaria. Kumiko. No one else is fit to stand.”

Nikolai blinked. ”No Nikita?”

”She couldn’t stop vomiting this morning.”

He didn’t ask about Risa or Kumiko. Not yet.

Selene moved toward the armoire. ”You’ll want the reinforced coat. They’re not here to bow.”

She opened the door, pulled out the dark jacket with hidden plating beneath the collar, and tossed it across the bed.

”Get up. At least pretend you’re still wounded, those girls are jealous.”

The walk down was slow.

Nikolai didn’t bother to hide his pain; each step was like small blades dug into his organs and flesh, but the support of Selene helped him cope.

The space inside was clean and brutal — steel fixtures, polished floors, black-panelled monitors across the far wall showing a rotating map feed of the outer districts. The scent of coffee lingered, faintly masked by oil.

The war room wasn’t loud. No voices rose to greet him, and no one stood to bow.

Kumiko sat nearest to the window, dressed in a deep red blouse with her long golden hair tied back with a simple ribbon. Her legs were crossed at the ankle, posture perfect as always. When he entered, she gave a small smile and lowered her head in greeting — nothing more.

Amphitrite leaned forward over the central table, arms folded, cleavage pressing lightly into the map. Her pink hair had been tied loosely, strands hanging along her jawline. She glanced over as he approached, one eyebrow raised.

”You made it. I was starting to wonder if Selene planned to keep you locked up.”

Lunaria stood near the corner, dressed in soft greys and black. Her silver eyes met his briefly, then dropped again. Her white hair fell over one shoulder, the tips brushing against her hip. She didn’t speak — but her ears twitched once as he passed.

”Should I be flattered,” Nikolai said, stopping beside the table, ”that the only three with combat clearance all sleep in the same wing?”

”You should be resting,” Amphitrite muttered.

Nikolai stepped to the table, placing a hand on its edge. ”I’m tired of resting.”

”You don’t look rested.”

”I’m not.”

No one argued.

He looked down at the map. Several red markings circled a zone at the border of Sector D, the slums just west of Ashveil Cemetery. Decay lines were drawn in faded blue — waterlogged terrain, partial sinkholes, abandoned subway routes. The kind of place no faction bothered to reclaim.

He glanced at Amphitrite. ”What am I looking at?”

”A vault,” she said. ”Low mana field, no signal response, but three different patrols saw movement around the ruins. Same group of stitched undead. Never enter. Never stray. Same exact pattern every day.”

”Guarding something?”

”Or waiting,” Lunaria said quietly.

Nikolai looked at her. She didn’t blink.

”Nosferatu markings?” he asked.

Kumiko responded this time, her voice soft. ”Only one. Faint sigil, burned into the arch over a ruined gate. Vanished two days later.”

”So they’re covering their trail.”

Amphitrite nodded. ”And no one’s ever seen Nosferatu leave a mark they plan to abandon.”

Nikolai leaned forward, palm sliding across the table toward the red ring around the vault entrance. ”How deep?”

”Unknown. But it predates Sector D’s expansion. Original city-layer architecture. Probably sealed after the Old War.”

He exhaled. ”A vault under Ashveil Cemetery. Guarded by flesh-stitched corpses. No mana. No heat. Just a disappearing sigil and a terrain that wants to kill everyone who steps near it.”

”That about covers it,” Amphitrite said.

”Then why haven’t we sent anyone?”

”Because the last man who went near it,” she said, ”came back with his mouth sewn shut and on a cold silver trolley.”

Nikolai didn’t flinch.

”Did he survive?”

Amphitrite shook her head. ”No. Mouth sewn shut. Eyes carved out. Body left propped up at the district checkpoint.”

Lunaria’s voice came softer. ”They wanted him found.”

Kumiko added, ”And they wanted us to know they were watching.”

Nikolai tapped two fingers against the table. Once. Twice. His ribs reminded him they weren’t finished healing, but he didn’t sit.

”Then we don’t send a scout. We send a team.”

None of them interrupted.

”Lunaria, Kumiko and Amphitrite you three will form a team, of course you can’t go alone. I want to know what’s happening in that place, every detail you can. But your safety comes first.”

Nikolai didn’t want them to suffer, and planned to send in another team led by Leona to support them, at least to avoid any worst-case situations.

He didn’t know if this was a tap, but couldn’t help but go for it.

Any news on his grandfather and the other leaders was far too important to let go.

However, now he needed to convince the Moonlight Alliance in the council meeting...