Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby!

(Velka POV)

My dreams were not my own. Not anymore.

Sleep should have been a refuge, a comforting void to silence the chaos that had erupted since Elyzara had stumbled into my carefully ordered existence. Yet tonight, my sleep felt more like drowning slipping deeper beneath waters made of memories that belonged neither to this life nor any life I knew.

Flames crackled around me, hot and suffocating. Smoke burned my throat with each shallow breath. Embers drifted lazily through the night air like tiny dying stars, swirling around us as though we stood at the heart of a storm. My muscles ached from hours of fighting; exhaustion seeped deep into my bones, but adrenaline kept me upright, sharp, alive.

Beside me stood Elyzara—older, perhaps seventeen, with silver hair cascading wild down her shoulders. Her eyes blazed with fierce determination, one golden, one blue, shining brighter than even the flames that surrounded us. Her skin was smudged with ash, cuts, and dirt, yet her presence was magnificent. She radiated strength and a courage that felt contagious.

She glanced at me, eyes catching mine for just a heartbeat. "Ready, baby girl?" Her voice was deep and rich, tinged with humor and affection that sparked through me like lightning.

I didn't blush. I didn't flinch. Instead, a confident smile spread over my lips, matching hers. "Always."

Her laughter was fierce and wild, harmonizing perfectly with the roar of the inferno around us. "Let's make them regret ever stepping foot here."

I grinned, feeling a surge of power flow through my veins, magic rising sharp and precise beneath my fingertips. We moved together as if choreographed by fate itself perfectly synchronized, every step deliberate, every spell flawless. I cast ribbons of shadow, weaving them into barriers strong enough to deflect the flames our enemies hurled. Elyzara's magic burst forth in brilliant arcs, shattering their attacks into sparks and smoke.

"Behind!" she shouted, turning to shield my back as attackers emerged from the smoke. I spun, fluid and lethal, shadows unfurling like wings around me. Their swords met my darkness and shattered like brittle glass.

We stood back to back, breathing hard, but never wavering. The fires roared higher, encircling us, their heat oppressive and punishing. Yet Elyzara didn't flinch, didn't falter. Neither did I. Our fingers brushed together for just an instant her warmth sent a jolt of something sweet and familiar through my chest. I reached out, gripping her hand briefly, tightly, knowing instinctively I'd never let go.

"Together?" she whispered fiercely, eyes glistening.

"Always," I repeated, my voice clear, unwavering.

We surged forward, flames roaring behind us as we shattered the darkness with magic as ancient and powerful as the stars themselves. The enemies scattered like shadows beneath dawn. Victory surged through my veins like fire, elation mingled with the strange, aching tenderness I felt whenever I looked at her.

I turned, about to speak, to reach out once more, when—

I awoke abruptly, heart thundering in my chest, body drenched in cold sweat. My chest heaved as I tried desperately to steady my breathing. The room was dark, quiet. No smoke. No flames. Just the soft whispers of wind beyond my dormitory window, mocking the lingering memory of the blaze.

I lifted my trembling hand, the echo of Elyzara's touch still tingling across my palm. It felt too real. Far too real.

Then I saw it.

A burn. Small and raw, blistered across the center of my palm, in the precise shape of Elyzara's handprint. Pain radiated softly from the wound as I flexed my fingers experimentally, disbelief cascading through me.

"Impossible," I whispered, voice shaking.

I moved to the window, pressing my forehead to the cold glass as my thoughts spiraled wildly. The dream had felt tangible enough yet dreams didn't leave physical marks. They couldn't. Shouldn't.

But this mark told another story a secret etched into my skin, seared by magic I neither understood nor controlled. A sign that whatever this was, it was beyond simple imagination, far deeper than a memory.

"Soul memory," my grandmother had said. I'd laughed it off then, scoffed at her romantic sentimentality. Now, fear coiled tightly around my throat. Perhaps she'd been more right than either of us had imagined.

A chill crept down my spine, crawling under my skin. Elyzara and I we'd known each other before. That much was clear. But what frightened me most was the intensity, the depth, the heat. We weren't casual acquaintances in these lost memories. We'd been allies, companions something more.

I clenched my hand into a fist, pain flaring sharply once again. These weren't just memories. These were warnings. A bond forgotten, reignited by fate or magic, pulling us together again.

And it terrified me.

I sank slowly onto the edge of my bed, heart heavy, pulse thundering softly. My mind raced through the implications. How could I face Elyzara now? Could I tell her? Would she even believe me—or would this revelation shatter whatever fragile balance we'd begun to build?

No. I couldn't say a word not yet. I had to keep this secret, had to guard it like the precious, terrifying truth it was. If Elyzara suspected even for a moment… she'd never let it go. She'd drag us into the storm, laughing recklessly at destiny itself.

I pressed the injured hand to my chest, feeling my heart pound in frightened rhythm beneath my skin. Even now, after everything, my pulse raced for her.

I was losing control.

And yet I couldn't stop remembering her voice, warm and sure, calling me "baby girl" as if I were already hers.

Heat burned fiercely in my cheeks, embarrassment mingling with an uncomfortable thrill. I groaned softly, pressing the uninjured hand to my face in exasperation. "You're doomed, Velka Nightthorn," I muttered bitterly.

Thunder rolled gently outside, rain pattering softly against the windowpane, offering little comfort. Sleep would not find me again tonight. Instead, I paced restlessly, mind spinning with endless questions , questions that had no easy answers.

One truth whispered again and again, relentless as the storm outside: Elyzara was part of me, as undeniably as shadows were part of the night. Denying it would change nothing.

My eyes drifted once more to the burn on my palm a stark reminder of bonds forged long ago, forgotten by time, now awakened and desperate to reclaim what was lost.

I sighed, allowing myself one brief, honest moment of vulnerability. "Just perfect," I murmured bitterly, shaking my head. "I'm falling for memories that aren't even mine."

Outside, lightning illuminated the sky in sharp, brief flashes, painting the darkness with jagged clarity. I drew a deep, trembling breath, steeling myself for the battle ahead not against enemies of steel and fire, but against my own heart.

I would hide the truth. Guard my secret. Bury these dreams deep, no matter how fiercely they clawed to the surface.

But even as I vowed this, my heart whispered gently, knowingly, that Elyzara Thorne had already marked my soul far deeper than any burn upon my skin.

And no magic in this world or any other could undo that.

I stared at my reflection in the darkened window, feeling my already limited grip on sanity slipping further away. A crisis brewed a full-blown existential breakdown. I, Velka Nightthorn, heir of a noble vampire lineage, feared and respected, was now reduced to pacing anxiously because of a dream about a silver-haired menace who melted walls with zero effort and zero self-awareness.

"Look at yourself," I muttered irritably at the glass. "You're practically pining. Vampires don't pine. We brood elegantly. There's a difference."

My reflection offered no helpful insight, just stared blankly back with wide, frantic eyes, as if to say: Is this what we've become? Yes, apparently it was.

I threw myself dramatically onto the bed, arm draped across my eyes, moaning theatrically into the oppressive silence of the room. "Why her, of all people?" I groaned aloud. "Why not someone less… explosive? Less reckless? Someone who doesn't set magical barriers ablaze and smile about it afterward?"

The ceiling, predictably, held no answers either. Useless ceiling.

"I'm centuries-old vampiric lineage incarnate," I complained to no one in particular, waving my good hand dramatically in the air. "I should be above silly crushes triggered by magical memory trauma. I should be seducing empires, overthrowing kingdoms, terrorizing enemies—not doodling hearts around the name of a girl who probably thinks fireball is a valid greeting!"

I paused, frowning deeply. When exactly had I started doodling hearts?

"Get it together, Velka," I scolded myself sharply, sitting upright with determination. "You're dignified. Sophisticated. A master of darkness and manipulation."

And yet my hand tingled, my heart fluttered traitorously, and all my dignified plans dissolved faster than Elyzara's poorly restrained magic barrier.

"Maybe grandmother's right," I sighed dramatically. "Maybe emotional suffering builds character."

Or maybe, just maybe, I was spiraling out of control because Elyzara Thorne had casually marched into my life, turned it upside down, and hadn't even bothered to ask permission first.