My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me

Chapter 203: Look At Me, Please

The fire spread faster, devouring cocoons one after another as if the webs themselves were fuel.

Thick smoke poured through the corridor, burning Diane’s lungs as she sprinted forward, abandoning any thought of the spider behind her.

Survival meant nothing now. Only one thing mattered.

Maria.

She slashed through flaming webs with reckless desperation, her hands shaking as sparks scorched her sleeves and ash rained down around her.

Every cocoon she passed felt like another second slipping away, another chance lost.

"No. No, no, no! She can’t die!"

She tore open the nearest cocoon, ignoring the heat licking dangerously close to her face, only to find it empty. The interior had already collapsed into blackened ash, the body long gone.

"Shit!" she cursed, her voice raw.

Her mind felt like a burning wire, thoughts tangling and snapping at once. Where was the fire coming from?

It was too fast, too aggressive, nothing like ordinary flame. It wasn’t Maria’s doing, she knew that instinctively. And Seamus...

She shook her head hard, forcing the thought away. "He would never do something like that," she muttered, half to convince herself. "He’s careful. He cares about Maria too."

Her jaw tightened. "This has to be Latros."

She pushed forward one last time, lungs aching, vision blurred by smoke, until she reached the final room.

The fire faded abruptly, as if it had never existed at all, leaving only scorched walls and drifting embers behind.

In the center of the room stood Seamus.

He was holding Maria tightly in his arms.

For a moment, Diane didn’t understand what she was seeing. Then she did.

Their mouths were pressed together in a gentle kiss, unhurried and intimate, as if the world outside that moment didn’t exist.

When Maria’s eyes met Diane’s, the two separated immediately, startled, embarrassment flashing across both their faces.

Diane bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Her heart clenched so sharply she had to steady herself, fingers curling into her palm as she forced the feeling down.

She knew Seamus. She knew his life, the women around him, the way intimacy came easily to him. She had told herself she was prepared for this.

Seeing it was different.

’Are their relationships already this far?’

The thought hurt more than the smoke ever had, but she swallowed it whole. This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t about her.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm in her chest. "I saw the fire. We need to move. Latros knows our position already."

Seamus helped Maria to her feet, his grip firm and protective. "Don’t worry. The fire came from me. There were too many spiders in that room, so I figured they were hiding something."

"You, what?" Diane’s eyes widened. "That’s dangerous. What if Maria got burned?"

"She didn’t," Seamus replied bluntly. "We’re in a hurry. I can’t afford to open the cocoons one by one. And you couldn’t hold out much longer either, could you?"

His words were sharp, almost cold, but Diane couldn’t deny the logic behind them. She hated that she understood.

"Seamus is right," Maria said softly, offering Diane a small smile. "Neither of us has evolved yet. We’d just slow him down."

She turned her gaze back to Seamus, fingers tightening around his hand. "I’m fine. But that man... he’s dangerous."

"You mean Mark Latros?" Diane asked.

Maria nodded. "At first, I didn’t notice anything strange. But now I see it. This place feels like the inside of a stomach lining." She swallowed. "The wall is red and breathing like meat. It’s weird."

"If this is anything like Corvane," Seamus said grimly, "then we need to find the core and destroy it."

Maria nodded, "I’ll try to search for clues with my eyes."

They started moving again, deeper into the shifting structure. Maria kept holding Seamus’s hand, unwilling to let go, their gazes meeting with unspoken understanding that Diane couldn’t miss no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

She followed behind them. Step by step, her pace slowed.

For a brief, cruel moment, it felt like history repeating itself, like she was once again watching something she could never reach, falling behind no matter how hard she tried to catch up.

***

Diane turned into a vampire at eighteen, the same age Viviane had. They were only three years apart, close enough that they had once shared everything, from whispered fears at night to childish dreams that felt too big for their small house.

That closeness began to fracture the moment Viviane transformed into a vampire.

From then on, their mother’s attention shifted completely.

Isolde spent her nights with Viviane, guiding her through the darkness until morning came. When daylight returned, neither mother nor sister remained for Diane.

She was left alone in the quiet house, the silence pressing in on her as if it were punishment.

Her father was gone by then. She couldn’t even remember when or how it happened, only the shock frozen on Viviane’s face and the coldness that had settled into Isolde’s eyes afterward.

It was as if her mother had become someone else entirely.

Soon after, everything changed again.

They moved out of the small house and into Velstarth Castle.

Diane thought it would bring warmth, belonging, perhaps even happiness. Instead, the halls were vast and empty, echoing her footsteps back at her like reminders that she was still alone.

She believed that once she turned into a vampire, her mother would finally look at her the same way she looked at Viviane. That belief shattered quickly.

"Mother, I finished the expedition," Diane said one evening, approaching Isolde with cautious hope. "I killed a group of scavengers in the woods."

She handed over a small pouch. "The Vitalis Cores."

Isolde took it without comment, weighed it briefly in her hand, then asked, "Where is your sister?"

Diane stiffened.

Viviane had begged her not to mention it.

"I... don’t know," Diane answered after a moment. "But I handled it myself, so—"

"Tch. That naughty girl," Isolde muttered. "I’ll punish her later."

That was it.

Isolde turned away, already finished with the conversation.

Diane clenched her fists. She was better than Viviane in nearly every measurable way. She was stronger, more disciplined, able to wield both sword and bow with precision.

Viviane had to be dragged into the training grounds, resisting every step.

"Mother, look," Diane called once, excitement flickering in her chest. "I can hit a target from two hundred meters."

"Viviane! That’s not how you hold the bow," Isolde snapped instead, frustration clear in her voice as she repositioned Viviane’s grip herself.

Diane watched silently.

Jealousy crept in like poison. She wondered, for a fleeting moment, if failing might draw her mother’s gaze.

When she finally did fail during a hunt, unable to catch a group of fleeing vampires, Isolde looked at her only once.

Disappointed.

And said nothing.

Desperation followed in her chest. She wanted her mother to look at her. Truly look at her.

So she tried something else.

"Mother," Diane said one afternoon while Isolde was buried in reports, quill moving steadily across parchment. "Viviane skipped training again. She didn’t even come to the expedition."

Isolde didn’t look up. "Typical. I wonder what kind of vampire she’ll become."

Diane swallowed.

"I think I know why," she continued carefully. "There’s a theater troupe in town. Viviane’s been watching them every night. I think she... likes one of the boys."

The quill stopped.

Isolde’s hand trembled as she finally looked up, her gaze sharp and furious.

"What did you say?"

Diane staggered back instinctively, her throat tight. "She... she said she wanted to become a theater artist. I don’t know, Mother. Maybe you should see it yourself."

Isolde stood abruptly. "William! Prepare my carriage. We’re going to town tonight."

The door opened immediately. "Yes, Lady Isolde."

Isolde turned back to Diane, her eyes burning. "Good work. Keep reporting her actions to me. If I must lash that girl into obedience, I will."

Diane nodded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her mother was looking at her. Truly seeing her. Praise, however cold, had finally been given.

A thin smile tugged at Diane’s lips.

Maybe this was the way she could finally matter.