Chapter 53: The Depths of Deception

Ivy stirred, her limbs heavy as if her very bones were weighted. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar—vaulted, with a gentle flicker of candlelight casting shifting shadows on stone. Her first instinct was to sit up, but a sharp ache in her back and the dull pressure in her lower abdomen stopped her.

She blinked, disoriented, her hand instantly flying to her belly. The heartbeat she felt within was faint but strong. Relief flooded her chest—her baby was still with her. She let out a slow, shaky breath and looked around the room.

Where am I?

The room was dim and sterile, with a small wooden table by her side holding a pitcher of water and a folded towel. A strange sense of stillness pressed against the walls like something was being kept out—or in.

Voices. Muffled. Just outside the thick oak door.

She strained to hear.

“I told you this would happen,” Seraphina’s voice snapped in a hiss. “Her presence here is only accelerating it. The energy inside her—it's not just dormant anymore.”

“She deserves to know,” Elias argued. “We can’t keep stringing her along. She’s not just some vessel, Seraphina. She’s… Ivy.”

There was a pause. Ivy pressed herself closer to the door.

“She’s pregnant with a hybrid child born from bloodlines we barely understand,” Seraphina said, her tone icy. “One brother cursed, one born to protect the curse. And now that child carries both.”

The door creaked slightly, and Ivy recoiled, heart pounding. She scrambled off the bed, flinching from the pain, but determined. She grabbed the pitcher and clutched it in her hand like a weapon.

The door opened slowly.

“Ivy?” Elias stepped in, his gaze meeting hers with alarm. “You’re awake.”

“Back up,” she hissed, brandishing the pitcher.

“Ivy, wait—” he started, hands raised.

“You lied to me.” Her voice trembled. “I heard you. You both knew. You’ve known something was wrong with this pregnancy from the start.”

“Ivy,” Seraphina entered behind Elias, calm and collected as always. “You don’t understand—”

“Then make me,” Ivy snapped. “Explain it. All of it. Why me? Why now? And what the hell is growing inside me that has you both whispering like I’m carrying a ticking time bomb?”

Elias sighed. “It’s… complicated.”

“I’m not stupid, Elias. Try me.”

Seraphina crossed her arms, her gaze unreadable. “It’s not just a child you’re carrying. It’s an heir to two opposing bloodlines—Asher’s darkness, Elias’s purity. Those lines were never meant to mix. It’s destabilizing the balance between them.”

“What balance?” Ivy demanded.

Seraphina stepped closer. “For generations, the twins’ family carried a blood curse—only one sibling could survive untainted. Elias was the ‘light.’ Asher was the shadow. Your baby is both.”

Ivy reeled.

“You’re saying my baby is… cursed?”

“No,” Seraphina corrected. “Your baby is the cure—or the apocalypse.”

Silence.

Ivy gritted her teeth. “You said I had a choice. That I could leave whenever I wanted.”

“You can,” Elias said softly. “But not without consequence.”

“You can’t keep me here,” she whispered, backing away. “You don’t get to decide what I do with my child.”

Seraphina didn’t respond.

Ivy turned and ran.

The corridor outside was cold, the stone floor freezing beneath her bare feet, but she didn’t care. She ran past doors and relics, ancient tapestries, and symbols that now made her sick to her stomach.

She needed air. She needed space. She needed…

“Ivy!”

A voice. A blur.

And then—a sting in her neck.

She gasped, staggering backward as her vision tilted sideways. A sharp pain radiated from her shoulder where something had punctured her skin.

She turned—face to face with Marilyn, Asher’s mother.

“What—what did you… do?” Ivy’s voice slurred.

“You should have stayed where you were,” Marilyn said coldly, pocketing the small syringe. “You’ve put us all in danger.”

Behind her, footsteps thundered. Asher came sprinting down the hall, eyes wide.

“Mother, what did you do?!”

“She was running. I had to stop her,” Marilyn barked.

“You injected her?!” he roared, shoving past her and catching Ivy just before she collapsed.

Ivy’s eyes fluttered. “Asher…?”

“I’m here,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’ve got you.”

She tried to focus on his face. “Don’t let them… take… my baby…”

Asher’s jaw clenched. “I won’t.”

But as her vision faded to black, she saw something—no, someone—standing behind him.

Elias. Watching.

Expressionless.

When Ivy woke again, the air smelled of antiseptic. She was strapped to a padded bed, an IV in her arm, wires stuck to her skin.

Panic surged as she struggled, but her limbs wouldn’t obey. The sedation was still in her veins.

“Ivy,” a voice said beside her. Gentle. Familiar.

Elias.

She turned her head slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting beside her. “They didn’t give me a choice.”

She tried to speak, but her mouth was dry.

“You weren’t supposed to know the truth like that,” he continued. “Not all at once. You’re not ready yet.”

She blinked slowly, trying to scream, trying to ask what he meant.

He leaned in, brushing a hair from her cheek.

“You need to rest. The ritual is soon. After that, everything will make sense.”

The ritual.

A cold dread spread through Ivy’s body.

Whatever they were planning—it wasn’t just about her. It was about the child growing inside her. And they weren’t going to wait for her consent.

That night, Ivy lay helpless in the bed, tears burning her cheeks. She counted the seconds, tried to steady her breathing, tried to think of any escape.

And then… something happened.

A sharp pain shot through her stomach.

Then another.

She gasped.

It wasn’t a contraction—it was movement. Violent, intense.

Her belly shifted unnaturally beneath the sheets, almost like something was trying to push outward.

And then—the lights flickered.

The machines beeped erratically. The air became thick with static.

A nurse screamed outside the door.

And Ivy felt it.

Not just her baby—but something else.

Something… awakening.