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

She just whispered, "Yeah. I think I did too."

I stared at Velka, the silence stretching between us, filled with a strange new understanding that neither of us fully comprehended yet. My pulse fluttered in my throat, rapid and uncertain, the words she'd spoken settling like snowflakes delicate, soft, but quietly transforming the landscape of everything between us.

Velka cleared her throat, cheeks coloring a delicate shade of rose that made me suddenly aware of every heartbeat echoing through my body. She tugged at her cloak again, gaze flickering toward the towering shelves lined with dusty tomes.

"I uh I didn't not worry about you," Velka blurted, eyes widening immediately afterward as if she'd surprised herself by speaking.

I blinked, confusion flickering into amusement. "Was that a double negative confession?"

Her gaze snapped back to mine, embarrassment coloring her cheeks even brighter. "Maybe," she muttered defensively. "Or maybe it's just bad grammar. You decide."

I tilted my head, unable to hide a smile. "I prefer the confession."

"Figures," she said, biting her lip in a way that made me suddenly want to remember this moment forever. "You're impossible."

"And you're impossible not to worry about," I replied softly.

She opened her mouth as if to respond, then closed it again, eyes darting away. Silence returned, comfortable yet charged, as we both grappled with the new reality we'd accidentally stumbled into.

To break the intensity, I took a slow breath and looked around, grounding myself in the library's comforting familiarity. Moonlight filtered through tall, stained glass windows, splashing a cascade of color across the marble floors. We were alone, hidden from the world, surrounded by centuries-old secrets that whispered from the shelves.

"You know," Velka finally said, recovering some of her usual calm, "we're probably breaking a dozen school rules right now."

I shrugged, grinning. "Only a dozen? Clearly, we're slipping."

She rolled her eyes, stepping past me, fingers trailing lightly over the spines of the books. "If you get me expelled, I swear I'll haunt you."

I chuckled. "You're welcome to. At least you'd have better manners than the ghosts here."

She paused, glancing back at me with a faint, warm smile. "Don't bet on it."

Her eyes caught on a particular shelf, expression shifting suddenly. Her fingers traced over faded golden script, ancient and foreign. "This isn't normal," she murmured.

I stepped closer, curious. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated, forehead creasing in thought. "This language... it's vampiric. Very old, almost archaic. It's not taught to anyone but pureblood elders."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then how can you read it?"

She shook her head slowly, clearly perplexed. "I... I don't know. I shouldn't be able to."

"Well," I said, nudging her gently, "what does it say?"

She took a steadying breath, eyes flicking over the words. "'Only blood that once remembered will remember again.'"

A chill slid down my spine. "That's cryptic."

Velka snorted softly. "That's vampires for you. Drama is in our blood."

"Literally," I teased, earning myself a glare that lacked any real venom.

She reached out, tracing the words again. Beneath her touch, a low hum resonated softly, vibrating in the air around us. With a sudden creak, the bookshelf shifted. Dust cascaded down as the hidden passage revealed itself, dark and inviting.

"How cliché," Velka muttered dryly, peering into the passage.

"But conveniently timed," I pointed out, eyes sparkling. "Let's go."

She shot me a wary glance. "Are you sure?"

"No," I admitted cheerfully, stepping into the gloom. "But since when has that stopped us?"

She sighed dramatically but followed me without hesitation, the passage closing silently behind us.

The tunnel was narrow, stone walls cool beneath my fingertips, illuminated faintly by glowing runes embedded within the rock. We moved carefully, shoulder-to-shoulder, our breaths mingling softly in the confined space.

"This is intimate," Velka whispered, voice edged with dry humor.

"I could hold your hand again if you're scared," I teased lightly.

She huffed. "Don't push your luck, princess."

I laughed softly, feeling strangely at ease despite the unknown ahead. Eventually, the passage widened into a chamber bathed in silvery moonlight streaming from a high, unseen window. We stepped inside, breath catching simultaneously.

The room was circular, walls etched with detailed murals depicting scenes both beautiful and chilling. Figures danced beneath crimson moons, vampires and humans intertwined, battles waged, and spells cast—scenes of life, death, love, and betrayal painted across history.

At the room's center stood a tall mirror, draped ominously in heavy black velvet.

"Nothing suspicious about that," I muttered, stepping forward cautiously.

Velka grabbed my arm, her grip firm yet gentle. "Careful."

Our eyes met briefly, a spark passing silently between us. "Always," I promised quietly.

I approached the mirror slowly, my heart quickening. My hand brushed the heavy velvet, hesitating just a moment.

"Ready?" I asked, glancing back at Velka.

Her jaw set in quiet determination. "No. But do it anyway."

I smiled softly, pulling away the cloth.

The fabric fell away with a whisper, revealing polished glass that reflected our faces, clear and precise. Yet the moment we looked into it, something shifted. The room darkened at the edges, shadows creeping closer, and the glass rippled faintly, like the surface of a disturbed pond.

Within the mirror, our reflections changed our figures older, our faces sharper with experience. Velka's eyes widened, her breath catching audibly.

"It's us," she whispered, "but not us."

I stared at our mirrored selves, standing side by side, hands intertwined. "It feels familiar," I breathed.

The reflection smiled knowingly, and my heart twisted strangely in recognition.

"That's not terrifying at all," Velka murmured shakily, sarcasm faltering slightly.

"Welcome to my life," I replied lightly, heart racing.

Before we could speak further, the mirror's surface rippled again, darkening, shadows pooling around the edges until the reflections disappeared entirely, leaving only darkness.

A voice soft and familiar, yet chillingly distant whispered from within the glass:

"You found me. But are you ready to remember?"

Velka's grip tightened on my arm, fingers trembling slightly. I swallowed hard, feeling an unfamiliar fear settle in my bones.

"That depends," I said, voice steady despite the unease rising within me. "Who are you?"

The darkness within the mirror shifted again, revealing a face identical to my own, yet older, eyes gleaming with a wisdom and sorrow I couldn't fathom.

"I," the reflection whispered softly, "am who you once were and who you may yet become."

The shadows retreated suddenly, leaving only our ordinary reflections staring back at us. The room fell silent once more, heavy with the weight of what we'd seen.

Velka exhaled slowly, voice wavering slightly. "Well, that was ominous."

"Definitely a step above the usual cryptic warnings," I muttered dryly.

We stared at each other, the quiet punctuated by our shared, nervous laughter a sound both comforting and utterly inadequate.