Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

Rohan stepped out of the house and immediately opened his wings, flying into the horizon with his son clutched in his arms. It was only when they were high in the sky that Angel's cries suddenly stopped. He fisted his small hands around the front of Rohan's shirt and looked out in fascination, rather than fear, at the horizon. His dark eyes widened, and the black veins on his face and neck slowly began to disappear.

Though his little body still trembled from the aftermath of his sobs, no sound came from his slightly parted lips as he looked around in silent awe.

Rohan's tense body finally relaxed when he saw the look in the boy's eyes. He realized flying with him had done what his furious voice had failed to achieve.

Earlier, Angel had refused to return to his arms, because Rohan had lost his temper when the boy wouldn't stop fussing, even after being petted and coaxed. He had tried everything to soothe him, but nothing had worked. And then… he'd snapped, scaring the child so badly that Angel had looked stunned and burst into even louder cries than before. When he had seen Belle, he had practically leapt into her arms and avoided Rohan like the plague.

Rohan wasn't used to that much noise screaming beside his ears, and his son's relentless wailing had pushed him to the edge. He had been so ashamed to realize that, if Max weren't his own son, he might have thrown him hard to the ground just to silence him forever. That terrifying thought had hardened him, stunned him.

Until now, he had never once entertained the idea of hurting his child, and the fact that it had crossed his mind in that moment of rage had made something snap inside him, leading him to yell and growl at the boy to shut the fuck up.

He regretted raising his voice the instant he did it. He hadn't meant it. He hadn't wanted to be that man, at least not with any of his family.

Now, seeing his son not only calm but looking up with wonder at the birds flying close by, Rohan felt at ease with himself again.

Angel giggled and reached his chubby hands out as if trying to catch them, and when he couldn't, he looked up at his father with questioning eyes, bright with excitement, as if asking to follow where the birds had gone.

Rohan flapped his wings and soared higher into the clouds. Then he stopped, suspended in midair by the steady beating of his wings, to let the boy see the beauty of the mountains and the sky around them. The wind blew fiercely against them, and Rohan tried to see the world from up here, from Angel's point of view.

The mountains below were tall and lush with green, and the earth stretched far and wide in a blanket of vibrant color. Not a single house was in sight, not even their cottage, as they were far too high to see it now. Sunlight glimmered through the drifting clouds, and the beauty was too enchanting for a baby who had never seen anything like it, who had never even gone beyond the cottage yard.

Rohan almost thought he heard the baby whisper a tiny "Wow."

He chuckled softly. "You like it, right?" he asked.

His son turned his head, looked up at him with a smiling face, and gave a small nod.

Rohan had dressed the baby in a matching outfits, soft trousers and a long-sleeved, deep blue shirt that almost matched the natural shade of his hair. But not anymore.

That very morning, after his bath, Rohan had applied a herbal mixture he had gotten beforehand, one meant to slowly turn his hair black. The effect would take a few days to fully settle in, and so he had slipped a matching knitted cap over the boy's head to keep it warm and covered for now.

Unable to help himself, Rohan patted his son's covered head with affection.

"Do you understand that I didn't mean to yell at you or say those mean words?" he asked gently. "Papa was being a bastard, never use that word, at least not yet," he added quickly when he caught the curious look in the boy's eyes at the unfamiliar term. Belle had warned him more than once about using such words in front of their son.

"You were screaming so loud my head was ringing… so I yelled. But that was wrong, and I'm sorry. Do you understand?"

Though Rohan was well aware the boy understood, he still asked, and was pleased to see him nod slowly. That brought a soft smile to Rohan's lips.

"Good," he said. "Now tell me what made you so emotional. Try to explain your feelings as best as you can. You once let me know you didn't want to take a nap, without even using words. Do it now."

Angel stared into his face for a long moment, his eyes sad and dejected. Slowly, he raised his chubby hands and began to make motions, describing something that Rohan immediately recognized, it meant toy. A wooden horse.

Then, Angel pulled his hand in a sweeping motion, as if showing the horse being taken away from him. He looked directly into his father's eyes and gave a small, sorrowful shake of his head, his dark eyes shining with silent tears.

"No…" Angel managed the word, shaking his head again.

Rohan understood exactly what he was trying to say. The boy was expressing, in his own way, that he hadn't wanted to leave, or be separated, from his toys.

Obsession, Rohan thought, recognizing a painful truth.

There was something to what that demon had once told him, about their kind and how easily they became attached, how deeply they obsessed over things. Once their minds fixed on something, whether living or not, it would take time and effort to draw them away from it.

As young as Angel was, he already showed every trait of their kind. Though he had the vampire side that made him crave blood constantly, his demon side was just as strong, and at his age, controlling it would take even more effort.

"I know you don't want to leave the mountains, son," Rohan said softly. "But we have to. We have another home to get to and many things waiting for us once we arrive.

"You crying like that, screaming the way you did, was totally uncool," he added with a gentle smile, trying to ease the weight of the words for the boy.

"I can't promise life will be easy where we're going… or that I'll have much time to carve toys for you or read to you. That's why we needed to pack them, and that's why you need to start learning how to control your emotions, and the strength behind your cries."

Rohan hated that he had to speak to him this way, like he was older than he really was. The boy should be allowed to be a baby, to cry when he wanted, and as loudly as he needed. But where they were going, a single cry like that could raise suspicion… and bring dangerous attention they couldn't afford.

Angel pouted his reddish lips, then nodded his head as if he understood.

"Mama…" he said in a soft baby voice, and then pointed his tiny index finger to Rohan's chest, then to his own, as if trying to say he would be okay, as long as they were with him.

Rohan smiled, his heart aching. "Of course, we'll be with you, son. Just… not all the time," he said gently.

Angel would meet others soon, and Rohan wasn't sure how to explain to this smart little boy that he might have to pretend another woman was his mama, at least for a while.

Would Angel accept such a thing?

Rohan realized, with growing worry, that he hadn't considered how his son would react to this part of the plan. The boy was far more intelligent than he should be for his age, but that didn't mean he would easily warm up to strangers, or ignore his real mother and father when they arrived in Aragonia.

He decided to handle it when they reached Nightbrook and made the introductions. He would explain things as simply and carefully as possible.

For now, he let the boy enjoy the view, his wide eyes still hungry to see more of the mountains and sky.

"One day," Rohan whispered, "you'll have wings of your own to carry you this high. You'll fly by yourself, wherever your heart desires."

He leaned down and kissed the baby's smooth cheek. "I love you, son."