Page 40 of Shadow's Claim

"Keep quiet unless directly addressed. Short answers, just facts. Don't volunteer information." His instructions come rapid-fire, all business. "And whatever happens, try not to get emotional. We can't risk the hybrid projecting."

That's a legitimate worry. Our little shadow-bean has developed a habit of pushing its consciousness outward when I'm upset, making nearby shadows dance and swirl. Cute party trick at home, potential disaster in front of the most powerful shadow demon in existence.

"I'll keep it together," I promise, resting my hand on my belly where the shadow patterns swirl most intensely. The pregnancy is developing differently than a human one would—dense rather than expansive, according to Dr. Grey, with the hybrid forming more compact neural structures concentrated with shadow essence.

* * *

The Sovereign's ceremonial chamber feels like a nightmare version of a concert hall—a massive underground space carved into the bedrock beneath the Umbral Nexus. Even before our transport stops, I can feel the shadow power radiating from the place. It makes my skin tingle and the patterns darken, like they're responding to some silent call.

"Remember," Kael murmurs as we prepare to exit, "many will see you as a threat. Successful hybrid pregnancies challenge the established order."

"Fantastic," I mutter. "Nothing like being the most hated person in a room full of monsters with supernatural abilities. Really helps the anxiety."

Something that might almost be amusement flickers in his eyes before his face settles back into serious mode. All four of his hands position themselves around me—not touching, but ready to intervene if needed.

The ceremonial space opens before us like a massive theater, with circular levels descending toward a central platform lit by eerie purple light that seems to flow directly from the shadows. Shadow demons of all sizes are everywhere, their glowing eyes tracking our arrival with the intense focus of predators spotting potential prey.

What throws me completely is seeing other humans—claimed omegas with shadow patterns on their skin, some holding or standing beside children who clearly aren't fully human. They're all positioned carefully next to their shadow demon alphas in what's obviously a "look what I bred" display of possession.

"Status hierarchy," Kael whispers, guiding me toward a position near the front. "Breeding success determines ranking."

I bite back a sarcastic comment about prehistoric displays of reproductive prowess. Four months ago, I would have been disgusted by the whole concept. Now, with shadow patterns covering most of my body and a hybrid consciousness regularly poking at my mind, I'm not sure where I fit anymore.

As we take our place, I can't help studying the other claimed omegas. Some look completely broken, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped in total submission. Others seem more present, occasionally meeting gazes with careful confidence. What surprises me most is how their shadow integration varies—some with just faint markings, others covered like me.

The chamber suddenly goes silent as the central platform plunges into complete darkness. When the shadows recede, Sovereign Obscura stands in the center, and my heart nearly stops.

Holy hell. No amount of resistance intelligence prepared me for this. Standing over nine feet tall, Obscura makes even Kael look small. Six massive arms extend from a torso so broad it seems impossible it could fit through doors. Unlike other shadow demons whose skin merely absorbs light, Obscura's midnight-black exterior bends reality around it, making it hard to focus directly on any specific feature.

But the eyes—those are impossible to miss. Not just glowing purple like other shadow demons, but containing what look like actual galaxies of violet fire that shift and swirl as they scan the room.

"The continuation of shadow essence through controlled integration represents our domain's primary advantage in the Council of Nine," Obscura's voice bypasses my ears entirely, the words appearing directly in my head. "Today we evaluate recent progress."

What follows is basically a supernatural livestock show. Shadow demon pairs approach the platform with their claimed omegas and hybrid children for Obscura's inspection. The Sovereign's six arms manipulate shadows around the children, testing their abilities like a farmer checking muscle tone on prized animals.

My stomach churns at the clinical efficiency of it all. These kids—these families, if you can call them that—are being assessed purely for their genetic potential and shadow abilities.

When our turn comes, Kael guides me forward with gentle pressure from his hands. As we approach Obscura, the hybrid goes on high alert, its consciousness stirring with alarmed curiosity at the overwhelming shadow presence looming before us.

Obscura's galaxy-fire eyes lock onto me with an intensity that feels like physical pressure. The shadow patterns across my body react instantly, darkening and pulsing faster in perfect rhythm with my racing heart.

"Exceptional integration parameters," Obscura states, six arms moving in patterns that call shadows toward me. The darkness coils around like living ropes, probing the shadow networks beneath my skin in a way that makes my flesh crawl.

I clench my teeth as Obscura's consciousness slams against my mind—nothing like Kael's relatively gentle contact, but a harsh invasion that shoves past my surface thoughts to examine deeper connections. The hybrid reacts immediately, its developing consciousness pushing back with surprising strength.

Obscura's eyes flare brighter, all six arms freezing mid-movement. "Neural development exceeds recorded precedent. Psychic defense structures already forming."

The other shadow demons stir restlessly, eyes brightening as they register what this means. A hybrid with active defenses against psychic intrusion while still developing? That's power beyond what they're prepared for.

"This development exceeds standard integration protocols," Obscura announces, arms resuming their complex movements, calling even more shadows to wrap around me. "The specimen will be transferred to central breeding facilities for appropriate monitoring and extraction protocols."

My blood turns to ice. Specimen. Extraction protocols. The clinical words strip away any pretense that I'm a person rather than a lab rat, the hybrid inside me nothing but experimental material.

The hybrid's consciousness pushes hard against my mind, broadcasting distress like a silent alarm. The shadow patterns across my skin pulse wildly in response, creating visible ripples of darkness that flow along my arms and neck.

What happens next leaves me speechless.

"She remains under my protection," Kael states, his voice cutting through the hushed chamber as he physically steps between me and the Sovereign. "Our offspring develops optimally under current arrangements. Transfer would risk developmental disruption."

---