Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

Rohan reached inside her tender flesh, loosening the afterbirth while kneading her soft stomach. Suddenly, he felt a change as her own body took over. Her abdomen contracted, and beneath his ministrations, the afterbirth pulled loose inside.

"Come on, Isa-love, one more push and you can rest." From some hidden source, she found the strength for another mighty effort that brought a last gush as her body delivered the afterbirth, severing her completely from the life she'd supported for months.

Rohan's shoulders sagged with relief. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and whispered gently, "Good, love. It's all over. Stay with me."

His hands stayed steady as he tied the first string around the baby's cord, about an inch and a half from the baby's body. Then he tied the second one a short distance away, just enough space to cut between them.

He picked up the scissors. The silver blades snipped through the cord, and just like that, the baby was truly on his own.

Rohan looked down into the bloody face of the baby, heard the welcome complaint of his little cries, and laughed—in relief, in celebration. He kissed the tiny nose and said, "Way to go, my boy. That's what we wanted to hear." Then, to his wife, he said, "He's all right, Isa."

She didn't reply.

Abruptly, his mood sobered. "Isa, you're shivering!"

During the minute he'd spent concentrating on his duty of seeing to the baby, she had been gripped by natural chills. She lay there now, shuddering, her exposed limbs damp, the bedding beneath her soaked. Hell, a man needed multiple hands at a time like this.

"I'm fine," Belle managed to assure him. "Remember your promise—take care of him first before me. Go ahead and get him warm."

It was hard to do, but he had little choice, especially since Belle's directive matched exactly what he'd memorized. The chills were natural. So far, things had gone in perfect, natural order like what he had studied. He had proceeded by the book.

But first, he paused long enough to gently lay the baby down and remove Belle's legs from the leather straps. He lowered them and covered her up with a sheet, brushing a light kiss on her dry lips.

"I'll be back as soon as I get him bathed. You will be fine?"

She nodded weakly and closed her eyes. "Go take care of him." She whispered with effort.

He watched her for a heartbeat, hating that he would have to leave her for even a moment, but he had no choice. He crooked the baby in one arm, opened the door, and hurried to the kitchen.

Rohan had already prepared bathing water for him, and the bathing soap and clothes. As he stood before the basin on the table before the window, Rohan slowly lowered his son into the warm water.

The baby hiccupped and shivered in protest, shaking his head from side to side, trying to move his tiny legs from the water. Rohan did not believe he could find this amusing enough to smile, but he did.

"You don't want a bath, little brat?" he tsked as he began to gently wash him with the special soap Belle had made herself.

The baby's eyes were still closed, unlike his, which had opened immediately and cleared after birth.

It seemed that as much as his son was half demon and vampire, his human part was just as much—because he hadn't—

Rohan didn't finish that thought, not when dark eyes suddenly opened and stared straight at him. And before he could even brace for it, the little brat opened his mouth and wailed to the heavens as if Rohan were killing him, rather than simply giving him a bath.

Rohan grimaced at the sound, nearly dropping the boy into the water.

"Fuck!" he cursed through the loudest cry he had ever heard, as the baby began to fling his arms and legs, kicking mightily for such a tiny being.

Rohan knew immediately what was wrong and exactly what needed to be done. He had prepared for this, but not well enough to have it already ready.

Without wasting time, Rohan's fangs appeared, and he brought his index finger to his mouth, biting into it to draw blood. Before his body could heal the cut, he slipped the finger into the mouth of the wailing baby.

Immediately, the brat went silent and began to suck hungrily. Rohan sighed in relief.

His kind could feed on any creature, vampire, human, so long as blood flowed through your veins, they would take it. And though his son wasn't born with teeth like he had been, the little thing used his gums to try to bite down on the finger. When the cut healed, and the blood stopped flowing, he began to hiccup like he was about to wail again.

"Shh, shh. Hold on, young one."

Rohan bit his finger again and placed it back into the baby's mouth. He repeated the act at least ten times before the baby finally settled and calmed down.

"Tsk. No more wailing," he said softly as he resumed bathing the now-quiet baby, who stared up at him with eyes so dark, like polished ebony, the whites barely visible. And to Rohan's astonishment, the corners of the baby's little mouth tugged upward just before he closed his eyes again.

"Brat."

Rohan gently spread the soap over the pulsing scalp of his son, which was covered in the darkest shade of blue strands. He moved down to the spindly legs, between the tiny toes, and over the miniature fingers that had to be carefully pried open to be washed.

Then he turned the baby onto his stomach and lathered his back, pausing briefly when he noticed two faint lines. Markings. Signs that he might grow wings in the future. Rohan ran his fingers gently along them.

So fragile. So perfect. And so bratty.

He had never touched skin so soft, never handled anything so delicate. And within the short span of time it took to bathe him for the very first time, the tiny being had already carved a place so deep in Rohan's heart, he knew it would never be undone.

He laid the baby on a soft towel, cleaned his face and ears, and dried all the nooks and crannies, feeling a growing warmth that lifted a soft smile onto his face.

But the baby grew bored and began crying in chuffy, hiccupping spurts again.

"Hey, there, shhh. The bath is over," Rohan murmured. "I'll get you dressed and back to see your mama."

He surprised himself by how much he took delight in this monologue to the infant. A person couldn't help talking to something as innocent-looking as this, he realized.

Rohan carefully tended the baby's cord, applying alcohol and a cotton bandage, then smoothing balm over his stomach before tying the bandage down and diapering him for the first time like he had learned.

The baby recoiled like a spring every time Rohan tried to maneuver his hand into position for his little attires. But he finally got it right after struggling not to hurt the little being.

The bath was finally over, and Rohan gathered him into his arms gently and went back towards their room.

Pausing before the closed bedroom door, Rohan studied the baby who stared at him with drowsy eyes. He lay still and silent, his fists closed like rosebuds, his dark blue hair smooth on his head.

Rohan shut his eyes and pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead. His son smelled better than anything else in the world, better than the air that had washed over him the first time he was released from the madhouse, better than the rush he felt when holding a human's beating heart.

"You're something precious, Angel," Rohan whispered, feeling his heart swell with a love so unexpected it made his eyes sting without his permission. "I think you and me are going to get along just fine, son."

He nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, stepped inside, and closed it behind him with his back. But when he lifted his head toward the bed, every muscle in his body froze, and the blood drained from his face.