My Stepmom Is a Vampire
Copyright© 2025 by Vamp
Chapter 22: Lovers Understanding
“System, this isn’t a dream, right?” Seamus asked, his voice unsteady.
[Yes, this is very much reality.]
“Can you give me some kind of sign? Like ... red on the screen if it’s reality and green if it’s a dream?”
[Your Sagacitas is too low. You can’t generate that feature yet.]
Seamus dragged his fingers through his disheveled dark hair with a frustrated groan. “What is Sagacitas even? You keep mentioning it without giving me any explanation!”
[It means many things, but mostly it is keen perception, a reflection of the state of your mind.]
[It can be used for many things: to control power, to shield yourself from the Psyche Blood Style, and to lessen the impact of their mind games or attempts at mind control.]
“Just that? Just for that blood style?” Seamus muttered, his voice flat as he rose to his feet.
He crossed the room and poured himself a glass of wine, the weight of the last few days—or however long it had been—bearing down on him.
He didn’t even know how many days had passed anymore.
[Yes. The Psyche Blood Style is extremely dangerous. Unlike combat-based Blood Skills, once you are inside their realm, you cannot fight freely. Not unless you possess high Sagacitas.]
“Yeah, right...” He swirled the wine slowly in his glass, watching the fire crackle softly in the hearth.
It was the only sound in the room, a gentle reminder that he was still here, still breathing.
“I ... my mind’s a mess. I can’t think straight right now,” he admitted quietly, lifting his trembling hand and staring at it.
“Huh. Look at this—I don’t even know if all of this is real or not. And here I am, talking to a system I’m not even sure exists.”
He let out a hollow laugh.
“Since when was I inside a dream? Was it when I first set foot in this mansion? Or...” His voice cracked. “Am I still in my house, asleep, dreaming all of this?”
“I remember sleeping after the first meeting Isolde...” The room seemed to tilt as dizziness washed over him, and he collapsed back onto the sofa with a sharp exhale.
“Ugh. My head.”
[The blurring between reality and a dream is the side effect of Isolde Velstrath’s power, called: Somnium Eternity.]
“I see...” Seamus whispered as he shut his eyes, trying to calm his breathing.
It felt like he had forgotten so much. Pieces of dreams, or maybe memories, slipping through his grasp.
He remembered a woman calling his name, blood dripping down his face.
He remembered a mother and daughter walking toward a dark sky.
He remembered ... his father? On some kind of honeymoon?
“Damn, my memory is a mess,” he muttered as he rubbed his temples, frustration clawing at him.
But one thing Seamus remembered clearly.
“Viviane!”
Seamus stood up abruptly and opened the door, intent on finding her. The last time he’d seen Viviane, she had been in pain, her body seared with burns from her own power. The memory alone twisted his chest with worry.
But when the door swung open, she was already there.
Viviane stood in front of him, hand raised mid-air as if she’d been about to knock. Her startled eyes met his.
“Viviane!” Seamus reached out immediately, gripping her shoulders as he scanned her up and down.
No burns or wounds. No trace of the agony he’d seen before.
“You’re healed? That fast? Ah, right ... You’re a vampire.”
He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I even talking about ... Come inside.”
Viviane simply nodded and followed. The silence that settled between them as they sat together on the sofa was suffocating. Her usual spark—cheerful, sarcastic, unbothered—was completely gone.
Seamus broke it first. “Viviane, you ... You’re really alright now?”
She kept her eyes on the half-empty bottle of wine on the table. “I’m not wounded because it was all inside a dream. Every wound isn’t real except for the pain.”
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