Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!-Chapter 135: Truth

Velka's fingers traced slow circles on the stone windowsill, eyes fixed on the horizon, watching as dawn painted the sky in streaks of pale lavender and gold. Sleep had abandoned her entirely after that dream no, memory whatever it was. She sighed, annoyed, and pressed her forehead lightly against the cool glass, hoping it might soothe her fevered thoughts.

It didn't.

Nothing about last night made sense. Not the secret chamber, not the petrified heart suddenly pulsing with impossible life, and certainly not the strange warmth Elyzara had kindled beneath her skin. Velka was accustomed to cold logic, disciplined emotion, and careful control. Yet Elyzara was like a flame too bright, too unpredictable, threatening to burn away every defense she had meticulously built.

"Foolish," she muttered, stepping back from the window.

But was it? Her hand lifted instinctively, touching her lips again remembering the kiss, the whispered endearment, the comforting presence of someone who felt too real to be simply a figment of imagination.

With effort, she shook the thought away and dressed quickly, pulling on her uniform with practiced efficiency. The motions were mechanical, her body operating independently while her mind remained frustratingly fixed on Elyzara. The girl was meant to be an asset, an ally at best not a weakness. Certainly not someone who should dominate her dreams.

Yet Velka's heart raced, traitorously ignoring every logical command she issued.

She strode into the hallway, the echo of her boots clicking sharply against stone. Students whispered quietly as she passed, scattering quickly from her path, sensing the quiet storm brewing within her. Velka was used to their fearful respect, but today it only grated against her nerves.

When she reached the dining hall, it was early enough that only a handful of students lingered at scattered tables. A few younger vampires glanced toward her cautiously, then immediately lowered their gazes. She ignored them and claimed a secluded corner table, grateful for the solitude.

As she picked listlessly at her breakfast a small bowl of fruit and a steaming cup of tea her thoughts inevitably circled back to Elyzara, like water spiraling toward a drain. Last night had cracked open a barrier in her mind, letting through fragments of truths she couldn't comprehend. The more she considered it, the more certain she became that it wasn't just a dream, but a memory one lost or suppressed, forcing its way back to the surface.

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But how was that possible?

Velka pressed the heel of her hand against her temple, closing her eyes briefly. Her family lineage had taught her magic was a careful science, a structured tool to be wielded with caution and precision. Yet this felt like wild magic, unbound and uncontrollable, whispering secrets she'd never asked to hear.

The sound of someone approaching brought her sharply back to reality. She glanced up, irritation flaring instantly.

Riven.

He pulled out a chair without invitation, spun it around backward, and perched on it with a casual disregard for propriety.

"Good morning, vampire queen," he said cheerfully. "You look terrible."

"Leave," Velka replied coolly. "I'm not in the mood for your usual idiocy."

Riven grinned unapologetically. "Exactly why I'm here. Elyzara was equally surly this morning. And since Aria's busy translating moldy scrolls and my other entertainment options are limited, you're stuck with me."

"Lucky me," Velka muttered.

He tilted his head, examining her thoughtfully. "You know, if you keep scowling like that, your face might freeze permanently. Not a good look."

She arched a brow. "It's better than your usual vacant expression."

He laughed loudly, drawing a few startled looks from nearby students. "Careful, Velka. Someone might mistake this for friendship."

She narrowed her eyes. "That would require me liking you."

"Touché." He leaned closer, voice lowering conspiratorially. "But seriously what happened last night? Elyzara's practically glowing with angst, Aria's nose-deep in forbidden texts, and you're brooding even more dramatically than usual. Did I miss a séance?"

Velka paused, weighing her words carefully. She didn't trust Riven completely he was unpredictable, irritatingly perceptive, and generally insufferable but he was unquestionably loyal to Elyzara. And perhaps, unfortunately, helpful.

"We found something beneath the Arcanum," she said carefully, voice barely above a whisper. "Something very old, very powerful, and very much alive."

Riven's humor faded instantly, replaced with rare seriousness. "How bad?"

"Very," she admitted quietly. "And Elyzara's linked to it somehow."

He frowned. "Linked how?"

Velka hesitated. The words felt dangerous on her tongue. "A mark. A binding rune, probably vampire origin. Old magic, forbidden by even my ancestors."

Riven's expression darkened. "Is it dangerous?"

"It could be." Velka leaned back, crossing her arms. "I'll handle the research. Keep an eye on Elyzara, and don't let her do anything reckless."

Riven laughed bitterly. "You've met her, right? Asking Elyzara Thorne not to be reckless is like asking the sun not to rise."

Velka sighed softly. "Then just try not to encourage her."

He gave a mock salute, pushing himself upright. "Fine. But if you need backup, ask. Preferably someone who isn't secretly plotting world domination."

"Noted."

He left with exaggerated swagger, and Velka stared thoughtfully into her tea, still untouched and rapidly cooling. Despite herself, she appreciated his candor. Allies were in short supply, and even Riven's flippant loyalty was better than none.

After breakfast, she spent the morning in the library, carefully combing through ancient texts, searching for any mention of that unnatural heart. Hours passed slowly, frustration mounting. Every lead ended abruptly, deliberately cut short as if someone had systematically erased every reference to it.

As noon approached, exhaustion tugged gently at her senses. She leaned back, eyes closing briefly and saw Elyzara again, clearer than memory allowed. Silver hair cascading freely, eyes bright with affection. Velka's breath hitched involuntarily, her pulse quickening sharply.

"Stop it," she whispered harshly, eyes snapping open. "She's a distraction."

But even as she spoke, the feeling intensified a deep longing, aching familiarity. Something inside her recognized Elyzara, had always known her. The way she'd suddenly reached out last night, grabbing her hand without conscious thought, felt now like her body had been driven by instinct an instinct she'd buried so deeply, even she'd forgotten it existed.

Could it be possible? Could those dreams, these flashes, be fragments of a hidden truth, buried so far beneath memory that only magic could surface them?

Velka clenched her fists, teeth gritting in frustration. She hated uncertainty more than anything else. Yet uncertainty was all Elyzara had brought into her carefully structured world uncertainty, chaos, and warmth.

She stood abruptly, slamming shut the book she'd been reading, earning startled glares from nearby scholars. Ignoring their looks, she strode quickly out of the library, desperately needing fresh air to clear her thoughts.

Outside, the air was cool and crisp, sunlight struggling valiantly to pierce stubborn clouds. Velka paced slowly along the stone pathways, her steps measured, controlled each footfall echoing her desperate attempt to regain composure.

But every time she tried to refocus, Elyzara's face appeared older, gentle, affectionate, calling her by that infuriating nickname: baby girl.

Velka shivered softly, unsure if it was discomfort or something deeper. It wasn't that she disliked Elyzara quite the opposite. But that sudden intimacy terrified her, because it hinted at vulnerability, connection, weakness.

Things she could never afford.

As afternoon shadows stretched long across the grounds, she finally accepted the uncomfortable truth. Whatever magic bound her to Elyzara ran deeper than simple circumstance. It was older, stronger, and infinitely more dangerous.

Yet even acknowledging it changed nothing. She was trapped, caught between what her heart seemed to want and what logic insisted she avoid.

She took a deep breath, composing herself with practiced effort. Velka knew one thing clearly: she had to confront this, whatever it was. Running from truth solved nothing.

Tonight, she decided, she'd talk to Elyzara directly. Not about the dreams not yet but about the mark, the heart, and whatever secrets the Arcanum still guarded. Once that mystery was settled, she could address the deeper issue the inexplicable connection they seemed to share.

She didn't have to like it, but Velka was nothing if not decisive. Problems demanded action, not hesitation. And Elyzara Thorne was quickly becoming the biggest, most intriguing, most dangerously unpredictable problem of her life.

Perhaps, she admitted silently, the vampire princess had finally met her match in the tyrant's daughter.

She smiled faintly at that thought, feeling a hint of her familiar composure returning. If destiny insisted on intertwining their paths, she'd simply find a way to use it to her advantage.

After all, Velka Nightthorn never surrendered control easily especially not to something as trivial, as messy, as complicated as love.

That evening, Velka stood at the edge of the training field, arms crossed tightly over her chest, the wind tugging at the edges of her cloak. She watched Elyzara from a distance, her silver hair catching the dying light like spun starlight, movements sharp and graceful as she sparred with Aria. Riven lounged nearby, tossing pebbles at a distracted squirrel, entirely oblivious to the tension curling in Velka's chest.

She should've walked away. She should've turned and gone back to her dormitory, buried herself in arcane texts, and pretended the dreams meant nothing. But her feet wouldn't move.

And worse, when Elyzara laughed loud, unguarded, too bright for the haunted school around them something inside Velka softened.

She doesn't even know what she's doing to me, Velka thought bitterly, heart racing for all the wrong reasons. She doesn't remember what I remember.

Her hand lifted to her collarbone, fingers brushing the spot where phantom warmth still lingered from the dream kiss. It made no sense. No spell had been cast, no memory charm broken.