Side Effects

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Marcello had spent his recent days reading through some of the records once more. Comparing her pregnancy to those in history. One thing he was not looking forward to was the birth itself. Consistently described as a bloody and brutal affair, childbirth tore apart even the strongest of mothers. He had not mentioned it, and she had not asked. He had also been reluctant to hand any of the records over for fear it would only demoralise her, even though she had asked several times.

"You were right. It is really pleasant to be out here. Well, in the shade." He commented, as the conversation had lulled. Her mouth was currently occupied, working her way through the sweet food with some level of determination. Her appetite had clearly increased despite her difficulty in consuming human food.

"I'm hoping I'll feel like just standing in the sun a few minutes... soaking it up..." she replied. "Do those who are turned ever develop tolerance? Or just purebreds like yourself?" Clearly the doctor had enough to not burn alive, but he was ancient and wore long sleeves. He had nothing covering his face, though. So she supposed it must happen, eventually.

He laid back in his chair and closed his eyes. "It all depends on who turns you. As the strongest and purest line in existence, so we boast, you should be capable of building a tolerance. But I warn you, it will take years of practice. So enjoy it while you can now."

She finished up and stood, walking out of the shade to enjoy the sunshine. Natalia then closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth washing over her, but after only a minute, her skin became incredibly hot to the touch. She retreated under the gazebo looking thoroughly sunburnt, even though she'd barely spent a few minutes there. It was quite clear they were affecting her—speeding up the good and the bad parts of being vampiric. She was turning without anyone turning her.

She grabbed his glass of blood he'd been sipping at and downed it without hesitation. There was no recoil of disgust in it. She grabbed the decanter on the table and filled it once more, downing it in a few gulps before sighing and closing her eyes. She looked satisfied and satiated, a drop of blood still on her lip. With a flick of her tongue, she lapped it up like it had been the chocolate from earlier, resting her hands on her stomach as she reclined in the chair.

He could not explain what he had just seen. She simply lay back with a satisfied smile and her eyes closed, cradling her bump after guzzling two glasses of blood without so much as blinking. She had literally feasted on that blood, not wasting a drop, and he doubted it had been so much for the babies' sakes. He saw her reddened skin, and it all formed in his head.

"I never told you how one becomes turned, did I? You never asked. And I never said?" It was a wild theory, but he was staring at the facts right in front of him. She was slowly being turned by their children.

"Sweetheart, you realise exactly what just happened and what that means, don't you?" He sat upright, as she still looked so carefree. He needed to help her understand the gravity of the situation.

"No...you didn't..." she realized, barely opening her eyes. She had always expected it was like the fantasy books—that he bit her long enough that it changed her, but she now realized that had been entire speculation. The situation was dawning on her. The sheer amount of vampiric energy inside her was bound to do... something.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, the gravity of what had just happened washing over her face. "How does one become turned? Are they turning me inside me?" She asked, her eyes growing wide.

And like a true mother, her first thought was not for herself. "If they are, does that put them in danger?" The whole point was that humans could produce life. Vampires could not. If they were slowly turning her, would her life eventually not be enough and reject them?

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