MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

As Doctor Martina uttered the words, "The child is yours," Blake's grip around her neck loosened, his eyes widening with shock. In an instant, he released her and erupted into a blur of speed, hurtling towards the entrance of the manor.

With a singular focus driving him forward, Blake tore through the mansion, his movements swift and unyielding. Doors shattered under the force of his urgency as he stormed through each room, his senses honed to detect any sign of the child he had unknowingly fathered.

Finally, he reached a door from which the faint sound of a whimpering baby emanated. His rapid pace came to an abrupt halt as he stood before it, his heart pounding in his chest. With a gentle touch, he pushed the door open, revealing a small, dimly lit room.

There, cradled in a crib, lay the source of the soft cries—a newborn child, innocent and vulnerable.

Blake's turbulent emotions softened as he approached, his movements now careful and deliberate. He reached out, his hands trembling slightly, as he lifted the baby into his arms, cradling it with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with his earlier ferocity.

As Blake cradled the newborn in his arms, he found himself captivated by the striking features of the child. A pair of piercing blue eyes, reminiscent of his own in his normal state, gazed up at him with a sense of innocence and curiosity. The tiny nose, with its delicate point, mirrored that of Rose—a subtle yet undeniable resemblance that tugged at Blake's heartstrings.

Even before he fully comprehended the implications, a profound sense of connection washed over Blake. In the depths of his being, he knew without a shred of doubt that this was his child, his baby girl. It wasn't just the physical resemblances that confirmed it; it was an instinctive knowing—a bond that transcended words or rational thought.

As he held his daughter close, Blake whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion, "You're mine, aren't you? My baby girl." The child stirred in his arms, as if in response to his words, reaffirming the unbreakable connection that bound them together.

Blake's eyes welled up with tears—clear, unblemished tears that mirrored the innocence of the child he held. His voice, choked with emotion, emerged in a croaked whisper as he addressed the infant.

"Let's go find your mother," Blake murmured softly.

**********************

Damien slowly released his grip on Rose's face, his expression morphed into one of utter disbelief. His features contorted with a mix of shock and confusion, as if he had just witnessed a ghost materialize before him.

He stuttered, his voice trembling with incredulity. "How... How is this possible?" Damien's words were barely coherent, his mind struggling to process the reality before him. "You should be dead... Elena should have made sure of that," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration and disbelief.

Meanwhile, Blake stood tall and resolute, cradling the child in his arms with a sense of protective determination. After a brief moment of contemplation, he turned to Reggie, his gaze unwavering. With a solemn expression, he handed the baby over, his actions speaking volumes about his intentions.

"You three came here to rescue the child, right?" Blake explained, his voice steady and unwavering. "Now...now you have the chance to do just that. Take my baby far away to safety," he instructed, his tone firm and commanding.

Reggie nodded in understanding, recognizing the gravity of the situation. Without a word, he and Randal swiftly exited the room, their footsteps echoing in the tense silence that lingered behind them.

However, Gunther lingered by the doorway, his gaze fixed on Blake with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Blake, he is dangerous. Are you sure you want to do this alone?" Gunther asked.

"The others are waiting for you. Don't slow them down," Blake replied, eyes fixed squareky on Damien as he replied Gunther.

Gunther could sense the palpable aura from Blake, it's like he was evolving by the minute, changing in more ways than one.

"Hmmm ... What are you going to do?" he inquired, his voice filled with uncertainty. Leaving Blake all alone with Damien was something that didn't quite sit right with him. All three of them could barely scratch Damien, what chance did Blake have asides the unnerving wave of energy coming off of him?

Blake's eyes met with Damien's with unwavering determination, a glint of defiance in his eyes. He heard what Gunther asked and could tell where the knight was heading. He was unsure he could take Damien alone. But right then, none of that mattered to him. The only thing that mattered now was Rose and in front of that was someone else, Damien. So left to him, the equation looked straight forward.

"I'm going to be what you all have always feared I'd become," he declared, his voice resonating with a newfound resolve. "A problem."

The chamber fell into an eerie silence, the only sound the soft shuffle of Rose's frozen form behind Damien. Blake and Damien stood locked in a tense standoff, their eyes locking in a battle of wills that seemed to echo through the dimly lit room.

Blake's gaze bore into Damien's, a storm of conflicting emotions raging behind his eyes. His attention briefly flickered past Damien, settling on Rose's imprisoned form. Her face twitched sporadically, a faint glimmer of consciousness flickering in her eyes as she struggled against Damien's icy grip.

A deep, primal surge of anger coursed through Blake seeing Rose in that state, its intensity far surpassing any previous encounters he had faced. This was different—more potent, more volatile—than the pain of Elena's stab or the brutality of Reggie's assault. Every fiber of his being thrummed with a singular purpose: to inflict harm upon Damien.

Meanwhile, Damien remained keenly attuned to the energy emanating from Blake, his confusion palpable beneath the veneer of his composed exterior. Blake appeared altered—larger, stronger, more imposing—his very presence exuding an aura of newfound power that sent shivers down Damien's spine.

He could sense the raw power emanating from Blake, an energy that crackled with untamed ferocity. Despite his outward confidence, Damien couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.

A sardonic smirk played across Damien's lips as he observed Blake's transformation. "Impressive," he remarked, his voice tinged with amusement. "The old Blake was a mere inconvenience, a footnote on the path to my ambitions. But you…" He chuckled softly, the sound echoing through the chamber.

Drawing in a deep breath, Damien savored the heady scent of change that hung thick in the air. "Your aura is… intriguing," he mused aloud. "Though if memory serves, it hasn't been long since your transformation, six months since I last remembered you existed or should even. Yet, you possess the essence of a lord, far surpassing that of a mere knight."