The Seed of Submission

The night outside was thick and black, pressing against the farmhouse windows like a living thing, but the real darkness was inside. It pulsed beneath Ethan's skin, curling in his veins, and whispering behind his ribcage with a voice he could no longer silence.

Anna sat beside him, her hands hovering over his trembling form, uncertain whether to reach for him or to retreat. His shirt clung to his body, damp with cold sweat, and his breathing came in short, shallow gasps. Every few moments, a sharp tremor wracked his frame, his muscles tensing against a pain that seemed to be growing from the inside out.

"Ethan," Anna said, her voice soft but firm, "talk to me."

Ethan's eyes flicked to hers, and for a second, she saw something foreign swimming in their depths—a shadow of something that shouldn't be there. His lips parted, and his voice, broken and raw, emerged.

"She's…" He paused, his throat working around the words like they burned. "She's not gone. She's… here."

Anna's heart pounded. "You mean… the baby?"

Ethan's hand pressed against his stomach, his fingers twitching as he felt something shift beneath his skin. "It's more than that," he whispered. "I can feel her through it. It's like… she's watching me from the inside."

The air thickened with something unseen, and suddenly, Ethan's body arched violently, his back bowing as a sharp cry tore from his throat. His nails clawed into the floorboards as something ancient and wrong surged through him, flooding every nerve with fire.

Anna grabbed his shoulders. "Ethan! Stay with me!"

But his eyes had already gone distant, his body seized in the grip of something far beyond pain.

Inside his mind, the world had shifted.

Ethan stood in a vast, endless space of marble and shadow, the ground beneath him polished and cold, reflecting his own face back at him like a twisted mirror. The air hummed—not with the chaotic madness of the city, but with something more refined, more… intimate.

Behind him, he felt her presence before he saw her.

"Ethan," came the voice, soft and silken, wrapping around his name like a caress.

He turned, and there she stood—Victoria, radiant and impossible, her form shimmering with power. She was barefoot on the marble, her gown flowing like liquid shadow. But there was something new about her, something… different.

Her hand rested on her abdomen, and the faintest glow emanated from beneath her fingers.

Ethan's blood ran cold. "You—" His voice cracked, raw with accusation and confusion. "What have you—"

Victoria's eyes, bright as burning stars, met his. "I told you," she said, her voice low, "this is ours."

Ethan felt the bond between them—an invisible thread that ran from his chest to hers, but not in a straight line. It twisted, looped, and coiled—through the child.

His knees threatened to give way. "You're—" He struggled to breathe. "You're in it?"

Victoria smiled, and it was both cold and heartbreakingly tender. "I am with it. I am within you." She stepped forward, her presence both oppressive and magnetic. "And you… are within me."

Ethan's voice was raw with disbelief. "You're using me as a—"

Victoria's eyes flashed. "No," she cut in, her voice sharp but not cruel. "You are not a tool, Ethan." She lifted his chin with her fingers, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You are the vessel. The only one worthy. The only one who can carry a piece of me… and still remain whole."

A tremor ran through his body as her power seeped into him from the bond, and for one terrifying moment—he felt it.

The oneness.

The completeness of her. Her will, her mind, her soul—filling him, claiming him. He could see the world as she did: fractured, unfinished, and in need of a new god.

And he was at the center of that creation.

Ethan's hands shook, his breath ragged. "You… you made me into this."

Victoria's lips brushed his temple. "I created you. You're mine, Ethan. Always have been."

His voice cracked. "You've taken everything from me."

She leaned closer, her lips grazing his ear. "No," she whispered, her voice velvet-soft. "I've given you everything. You're no longer just my plaything."

Her hand, cold and perfect, settled over his. "You're my partner."

Suddenly, the space shattered like glass, and Ethan was wrenched back into his body. He gasped, his eyes snapping open to see Anna's frantic face inches from his.

"Ethan! What—what happened?" she demanded.

His body trembled violently, but he felt it—the bond, the presence, still inside him, nestled with the growing life. His voice, hollow and barely above a whisper, answered:

"She's not on the outside anymore."

His hand pressed protectively—possessively—to his abdomen.

"She's inside me."

And the worst part…

A part of him didn't want to let her go.