Mary lay next to Jonathan, her self-proclaimed king, lord, and master, as he slumbered contently. Mary, however, was a bundle of nerves. This was all wrong, everything about it. She had created a monster, and now that monster had impregnanted her. Made both of them unnaturally fertile and then impregnated her, to be more precise.
Her mind ran over options at lightning speed. She could take the human vial, run away, but she couldn't bring herself to potentially kill the life growing inside her. She could try to do something to him, transform him in his sleep, but the thought of going against him terrified her. He had made it so that she was completely subservient to him, and she simply could not bring herself to excercise her own willpower.
And so she simply lay there, and eventually fell into a troubled, fitful sleep. She could do naught but pray that her cowardice, her inability to act, did not have dire consequences for the world as she once knew it.