My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything

The Matten estate was filled with a quiet joy in the days that followed Aurora's birth.

It wasn't loud or exaggerated. No celebrations were thrown and no banners were raised. The joy was quieter than that. Warm, steady, and sacred, like a fire that never stopped burning at the hearth.

Ezra stood in the doorway of the nursery, arms crossed, leaning against the arched wooden entrance.

His eyes trailed to the center of the room, where three women, his wives, gathered around a cradle carved from the best wood in the Republic, and reinforced with power from the weave itself.

Inside it, wrapped in pale blue silk and swaddled with wool, lay his daughter, Aurora.

Olivia sat closest, her posture regal even when cradling the baby. Her long dark hair was loose for once, tumbling around her shoulders like a black waterfall, and her eyes, which were often cold and blank, now brimmed with awe.

She held Aurora with the reverence of one holding the impossible, one hand softly stroking the infant's cheek. Despite the pains of childbirth, she looked as strong as she'd ever been.

Her existence as a vampire, and a constant stream of vitality from her soul bond with Ezra had helped her recover in record time, but even so, she never once complained. Now, her every move revolved around their child, as if Aurora had become her center of gravity.

Red stood near the windows, arms folded, eyes narrowed as she watched the perimeter beyond the glass.

Since the baby's birth, she had taken it upon herself to overhaul the estate's defenses. Patrols doubled, and her own power was layered all over the place, watching for anything out of the ordinary.

Ezra had seen her pacing the outer halls late into the night, barefoot and silent as she did her impromptu checks on the security of the place. She always looked ready to destroy anyone who so much as approached the estate with the wrong intentions.

Today, though, her lips were curved upward, her face brightening every time Aurora made the smallest sound.

Gen, meanwhile, floated from one end of the room to the other like a drifting melody. She moved as if gravity had forgotten her, her white dress fluttering behind her like a ghost's train.

She had taken to humming lullabies, including tunes that no one recognized. At times, she'd reach out to gently tickle Aurora's feet with misty fingers, drawing sleepy coos from the newborn. Ezra watched her tilt her head in fascination every time the baby blinked or yawned.

He stood there longer than he meant to. Even now, the sight of them—Olivia, Red, and Gen, gathered around the cradle like priestesses at an altar—filled him with something beyond words.

He'd fought bloody battles, faced monsters, and nearly died too many times to count. But nothing had ever hit him as hard as seeing his daughter, so small, so perfect, and yet so strange.

Because she wasn't ordinary. Even now, Ezra could feel it. The pull of her presence. It was as if there was a magnetic quality in the air that permeated every crevice in his body.

When he locked eyes with her, those wide purple eyes, he felt as if he was standing before something ancient. Not something evil. Just… different.

At times, when she stared at him, he got the eerie sense that she was observing more than just his face. As if she could see his thoughts laid out like pages in a book.

Eventually, he stepped into the room.

Olivia turned first, eyes lighting up as she smiled. "You're done with meetings?"

Ezra nodded. "They can wait."

Red smirked. "That's what I said when someone tried to deliver the blood shipment. I threw the crate at them and told them to come back next week."

"You really did." Gen chimed in, chukling at the memory. "I watched it bounce."

Ezra made his way to Olivia's side and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She leaned into it, smiling faintly. He reached downward, brushing a knuckle against Aurora's cheek. Her tiny fingers curled toward him, and for a moment, the whole world stopped moving.

"She recognizes your face." Olivia whispered.

"Of course she does." Red said proudly. "She's a Matten. Even newborns in this family are overachievers."

Ezra chuckled, then sat on the nearby armchair. Red left the room before returning a few minutes later with a tray in her hands.

"Alright." She declared, "Feast time. I made something nice. Blood-soaked meatballs with garlic-free marinara. And a blood parfait for dessert."

"Fuck." Gen stared down at the tray, mouth watering. "I can't wait to have an actual body again."

Red chuckled.

The food was placed out on a low table, and the three of them sat in a circle, Gen floating above them. All of them keeping an eye on the now sleeping baby.

Ezra ate slowly, the way one does when they're too full of emotion to be truly hungry.

Their conversation drifted from baby anecdotes to the Clementine family, and matters of their territory. They joked about Aurora's surprising strength. About how she had managed to kick one of Olivia's ribs during a yawn. Red teased Olivia for crying during a lullaby, which Olivia promptly denied with a glare.

Eventually, as the plates cleared and the laughter faded, Gen brought up what they had all been avoiding.

"Sooooooo…" She began, stretching the word out. "We're going to have guests."

The room quieted.

"Yeah." Ezra sighed. "It's unavoidable."

Red scowled. "Let them try anything. I'll break them with my bare hands."

Olivia looked thoughtful. "It won't be an attack. At least not at first. Aurora's birth is a rare event. An actual vampire child that was born, not bitten? They'll come with gifts. Smiles. Promises."

"Lies." Red muttered.

"Lies." Olivia agreed.

Ezra exhaled, leaning back on his chair. "We'll need to prepare. We'll be seeing visitors from all over the Monarchy. There might even be a delegation from the Vampire Society. But nobody will be stupid enough to act when everyone else is watching."

"And if someone sends an assassin?" Red asked, her tone deceptively calm.

Ezra didn't hesitate. "Then we bury them beneath the garden."