Seraphina's POV
Dr. Theron pulls her into a private room before dawn. His ancient eyes are worried in a way that makes her stomach drop.
"Your blood is changing," he says without preamble. "Not healing. Not normalizing. Changing."
Seraphina sits down slowly. She already knows something's wrong. Her veins have been dark lately, visible under her skin like black rivers.
"The tumor should be killing you faster," Theron continues. "But it's also rewriting your chemistry. At a cellular level. If a vampire drinks from you right now, in this state..."
He trails off. Seraphina waits.
"What happens?" she asks quietly.
"Nobody knows. Your blood could grant them power beyond imagination. Or kill them instantly. Or create something entirely new. A hybrid. Something that's never existed before. Something unstable and dangerous."
The words hang in the air like poison.
She's not just dying. She's a weapon.
"Does Lucien know?" she asks.
"Not yet. I wanted to tell you first."
