Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 166

Chapter 166: Vampires,
Standing before Velka’s door elegantly carved, slightly menacing, and notably temperamental I suddenly questioned every life choice that had led me here. Even the goat tapestry down the hall seemed skeptical now, judging my courage with its beady embroidered eyes.

I sighed, lifting my hand to knock, only to freeze midway. “System, a little moral support would be helpful right about now.”

[You’re doing great,] it said cheerfully. [And by great, I mean you’re overthinking this terribly.]

“That’s your idea of support?”

[It’s realistic. Besides, this is just Velka. What’s the worst that can happen? Another lifetime of tragic romance and betrayal? You’re used to that.]

“You’re officially banned from pep talks,” I muttered sourly.

With a deep breath, I finally knocked. Three sharp taps echoed into silence. Moments passed, stretching painfully. Just as I debated turning tail and fleeing to safer activities like dragon wrestling or literally anything else the door swung slowly inward.

Velka stood framed in the doorway, dark hair tousled, eyes shadowed as if she’d been awake too long, or maybe just haunted by ancient destinies and sleepless nights. Possibly both.

“Elyzara,” she said, her voice careful, guarded but beneath that, something softer flickered. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Surprise?” I offered weakly, wincing at myself. Perfect opening line.

Velka blinked slowly, then stepped aside, silently inviting me in. Her room was dimly lit, illuminated by scattered candles and flickering firelight. Deep burgundy drapes covered the windows, velvet and plush, giving the impression of a vampire den rather than a student dormitory. Books piled everywhere on desks, chairs, even the floor like a fortress of knowledge and brooding solitude.

“Nice décor,” I remarked, awkwardly gesturing to a stack of dusty tomes. “Very… vampire chic.”

Velka raised an eyebrow. “Thanks. I was going for ‘haunted library meets existential dread.'”

“Mission accomplished,” I murmured, stepping carefully around the towering book fortifications. Velka leaned against her writing desk, arms crossed loosely, watching me with quiet curiosity and a hint of amusement.

“So,” she began slowly, voice measured. “You came to talk about…?”

I took a deep breath, hesitating. How exactly does one begin a conversation about intertwined souls, ancient magical artifacts, and shared destinies without sounding completely insane? Answer: you don’t. You embrace the insanity and hope no one calls security.

“About the visions,” I finally admitted. “Yours, mine, ours I think it’s time we figure out exactly what’s going on between us.”

Velka stiffened just slightly, crimson eyes flashing briefly with something akin to fear before carefully masking her expression again. “And your mothers are aware of this conversation?”

I made a face. “They’re aware in the same way that they’re aware I haven’t yet burned down the palace. Vaguely optimistic, mostly ignorant, and probably ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.”

A small, reluctant smile curved her lips. “Your optimism about their optimism is impressive.”

“Thanks, it’s my coping mechanism.” I took another step toward her, serious now. “Look, I know this is terrifying, confusing, and possibly dangerous. But ignoring it isn’t an option anymore.”

Velka glanced down at her own hand, the faint outline of the vampiric rune shimmering gently beneath her pale skin. “I know,” she admitted softly. “I saw things too things I can’t explain, but feel more real than memories I’ve actually lived.”

I nodded slowly. “That throne the one beneath Arcanum. I think we can unlock answers there. But”.

“But only together,” Velka finished quietly. “I’ve heard stories. It’s dangerous.”

“Which probably means we’re destined to try it anyway,” I replied dryly. “You know how prophecy works.”

Velka laughed softly, an unexpected, delightful sound that made something warm flutter in my chest. ”

“You’re trouble,” she said, not accusingly, just stating a fact as if she’d finally accepted it with a mix of mild exasperation and reluctant amusement.

“Obviously,” I said, lifting my chin. “That’s what it says on my official palace paperwork. ‘Elyzara Thorne: National Empress of Chaos and Inappropriate Timing.'”

Velka tilted her head, mock-considering. “You forgot ‘walking danger magnet’ and ‘part-time dragon tamer.'”

“Right. And occasional destroyer of historically significant furniture,” I added solemnly. “Truly, my résumé is cursed.”

There was something about the way she was looking at me half-smile tugging at her lips, the candlelight dancing in her crimson eyes that made my stomach somersault in the most inconvenient way. This was dangerous territory, emotionally and probably cosmically, and yet… I didn’t want to step away from it.

Unfortunately, my life was rarely allowed to linger in moments like this for long.

A loud thump echoed from somewhere near the hallway, followed by a sharp scuffle and an unmistakable “Ow!”

Velka blinked, her amused expression slipping into suspicion. “Did… you bring someone with you?”

I frowned, moving toward the door. “No. Unless Smaug followed me again. He’s been clingy since the lava pie incident.”

Another soft thump came from the other side.

Velka opened the door in one swift motion and there, crashing into the doorway in a tangle of limbs and poorly-thought-out stealth, were Riven and Aria.

Riven, at least, had the decency to look mildly guilty. Aria simply grinned.

“We were… passing by,” she said brightly.

Riven gestured vaguely between us. “We sensed emotional tension. Investigative protocol.”

Velka arched an eyebrow so sharply I thought it might slice the air. “You were eavesdropping.”

“Not… technically,” Aria offered helpfully. “It’s not eavesdropping if we didn’t hear anything useful. That’s just… proximity-based concern.”

I groaned and pressed a hand to my forehead. “Why are you like this?”

“Trauma,” Riven deadpanned. “Mostly from growing up around you.”

Velka exhaled slowly through her nose and stepped aside. “Get in here before someone else sees you.”

They filed in, completely unrepentant. Riven made himself at home by stealing a seat on the velvet reading chair and immediately poking through Velka’s bookshelf. Aria plopped onto a cushion on the floor like this was a casual tea party and not a meeting between magically entangled reincarnated soulmates.

“Is this about the Throne?” Aria asked after a beat, like she’d just remembered to pretend she wasn’t here for gossip.

Velka tensed slightly. I stayed quiet.

Riven’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, it is. This is a forbidden ritual mission. I knew it. I knew I saw romance and secret destiny brewing. Aria, pay up.”

Aria grumbled and handed him a silver coin from her pocket.

Velka turned to me, expression utterly flat. “They bet on us.”

“They always bet on us,” I said with a sigh.

Velka blinked. “Wait, always?”

“They have charts,” I admitted. “And categories. One of them is titled ‘accidental but emotionally loaded magical hand-holding.'”

“You guys really need hobbies,” Velka muttered.

“We do,” Aria chirped. “You two are our hobbies.”

“I’m going to exile myself,” I muttered.

“Too late,” Velka replied dryly. “You’re already in exile with me.”

There was a pause.

Then we both smiled.

Riven was about to say something, probably deeply stupid, when a knock interrupted us. A crisp, calculated knock. One that said: I’m from the palace and I do not care if you’re emotionally compromised, open this door or I will.

Velka paled.

I stood slowly. “That’s Mara.”

Riven shot up. “Right. We weren’t here.”

Aria was already at the window, swinging her legs over the ledge with all the grace of a trained spy who regularly escaped high-security lockdowns for snacks.

They vanished a moment later in a flurry of whispered spells and soft curses.

Velka shut the door and turned to me. “Should I panic?”

“I already am,” I admitted.

The knock came again.

When I opened the door, Mara’s expression said everything: tight-lipped, barely composed, and entirely too composed for it to be anything good.

She didn’t greet me.

She didn’t ask if I was all right.

She simply folded her arms across her chest, stared at me like I’d just personally offended a centuries-old military code, and said, very calmly:

“Do you want to explain why you left the palace without telling anyone?”

Velka took an instinctive step back, as if fearing the blast radius of whatever explosion was about to happen. Smart girl.

“I—” I began, already regretting every decision I’d ever made in the last 72 hours.

“You what?” Mara’s voice dropped, lower, deadlier. “You vanished. During a period of escalating tension. After visions. After magical marks and sealed doors and ancient thrones. You just walked out. No letter. No note. Not even a smoke signal.”

I winced. “I had to think. I needed space. I wasn’t exactly—”

“Elira and I thought someone had taken you again.”

That shut me up.

Her jaw clenched, pain flickering through her otherwise composed face. “We tore through half the estate before we realized you’d left of your own accord. Without telling anyone. Not even Smaug.”

Smaug, that traitorous cuddle-beast, had stayed curled up in the sunroom like a decorative pillow. Useless.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, the weight of it finally hitting me.

Mara exhaled, hand briefly covering her eyes. “We’re your guards, Elyzara. But we’re also—”

“Family,” I whispered.

Mara looked at me then, eyes softening, just slightly. “Don’t do it again.”

I nodded, small and ashamed. “I won’t.”

Behind me, Velka cleared her throat. “Should I… give you two a moment?”

Mara’s eyes narrowed instantly. “Oh, we’ll talk later.”

Velka paled.

I buried my face in my hands. “This is going to be a very long week.”