Instead of the joy Claude expected, Dalia's expression twisted into a deep frown. Her face paled, fear creeping into her features.
It was as if, in that instant, her morals had resurfaced—reminding her that their relationship was anything but ordinary.
Claude's excitement plummeted. "What's wrong, Mother?"
She opened her mouth, but her voice was barely above a whisper. "T-That's… that can't be."
Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the sheets. "We… we can't, Claude. This…" She trailed off, unable to finish.
But Claude understood. Dalia had been human once.
He knew all too well that her morality had been shaped by human society—where what they had would be considered unnatural, even forbidden.
He tightened his grip on her hand. "Mother… are you not happy to be carrying my child?"
His voice lowered, laced with something unreadable. "Do you want to get rid of it?"
