Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

While Rohan and Angel were away, Belle stood in the middle of the cottage, her hands clasped tightly before her as if holding herself together. She looked around the house one last time, knowing that the moment Rohan returned...

They would be leaving.

At first, she had worried about Angel and how hard he had been crying when Rohan took him. But she reminded herself he was with his father, Rohan would never hurt him. Even though she had heard, while bathing, how he had lost his temper and yelled at him to shut up, startling even her, not to mention the baby he held, she understood.

She understood that in moments like that, especially after trying everything to coax a child, anyone could lose control of their temper.

So, she dismissed the worry from her heart. But the moment that fear left her, it was replaced by a sadness so deep, she couldn't escape or shake it off.

They were leaving today.

They were stepping back into reality, a reality that had been paused but could no longer be ignored. And now, they would each have to take their places in it or risk losing everything.

She couldn't lose Rohan, to the asylum, or worse, to the demon world, where no human could reach unless given a pass by the king.

She couldn't lose her son to the mercy of the vampire king.

And she couldn't allow herself to be thrown into the slave establishment.

The only way to avoid all this was to be brave. To face reality head-on, just like she had always done. Just like she had trained herself to do. The old, naïve version of herself would have crumbled by now. But not this Belle.

The challenge ahead of them was not one she could afford to face as a weakling. So, before stepping into that reality, she decided to let her emotions have their way now, to pour out, unrestrained.

Her throat felt tight, constricted.

Her eyes swept over the small but cozy living space, committing every detail to memory: the uneven wooden beams on the ceiling, the little wicker basket Angel had used to sleep in before he got a cradle, the burn mark on the pink rug near the bed, where Rohan had once tried to surprise her with breakfast in bed while she was still recovering. He'd lit a candle for decoration, arranged it on the tray, and nearly set the bedroom on fire.

Each imperfection held a memory.

Each corner whispered comfort, safety… home.

Her throat tightened even more.

The bed was still unmade, as she hadn't had time to arrange it after waking up because of Angel. The covers bore the creases of the night before, evidence of his arms wrapped around her, her body tangled with his, the lingering scent of their closeness still clinging to the sheets.

She touched the pillow gently, then sat on the edge of the bed, just for a moment, trying to press the weight of her soul into the space before it was taken away from her.

She walked out of the bedroom and down the narrow stairs into the kitchen slowly, brushing her fingers along the polished edge of the wooden counter where she had spent many mornings cooking, with Rohan at her back, hugging her, stealing kisses, pretending to help, while they talked about unimportant things like the cow giving birth, his next trip to the market, and what he needed to buy for the house.

She opened the cupboard and found the tin of tea he had insisted on buying for her, after the seller told him it helped with the fatigue that came with childbirth recovery. Though she had claimed not to like it because it was sour, she had drunk it every evening just to see the pleased smile on his face.

Her hand trembled as she shut the cupboard gently. They were not taking anything with them. They would have everything again back in Nightbrook.

The late afternoon light filtered through the little windows, casting soft golden patches across the floor. Belle knelt beside Angel's toys scattered across the wood.

She gathered them one by one, Rohan's carved wooden wolf, a little ball, and the stuffed bear that had lost an eye from too much rough handling, and hugged them to her chest, burying her face in the soft fabric, breathing in the fading warmth of their life here. Then she placed them all into the open box Rohan had left, since Angel had been against anything being packed.

The thought that, by this time tomorrow, they would be in Nightbrook preparing for their journey to Aragonia made her heart knot and her eyes burn. She closed the lid of the box automatically and rose to her feet.

She could hear the low hum of Rohan's voice outside, along with the little baby gabbles of Angel.

They were back, she realized.

And it was time to leave, time to say goodbye to this place.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

She didn't want to go.

This place had been her peace, the first home where she had not felt hunted. It was here she had healed, laughed, learned how to breathe again. Where Rohan had bathed her, fed her, kissed her scars.

But many responsibilities awaited them now, too many to turn their backs on.

With a heavy heart, Belle moved.

She walked slowly toward the door and paused at the threshold, looking back one last time. Her gaze swept over the cottage, as though saying a quiet, painful goodbye, before she gently pulled the door shut and locked it.

Then, quietly, she whispered,

"Thank you…"

And stepped down the porch's four steps, carrying only a box that contained Angel's toys and a few of his clothes.

She found Rohan waiting outside, looking around as well, their son resting in his arm. Rohan's forearm supported the baby's bottom as he held him securely against his chest, propped over one shoulder so that Angel could see everything and take one last look around.

As if they sensed her approach, they both turned to look at her at the same time.

If she hadn't been so overwhelmed with emotion, she might have taken a moment to admire the striking resemblance between them. She might have even wondered whether they would ever truly succeed in hiding it by simply changing the baby's hair color.

But right now, her emotions were too much to carry anything else.

"Ready?" Rohan asked softly as he saw her walking up to them in the yard, holding the box, which was fashioned with a long strap slung over her shoulder.

Belle couldn't trust herself to speak just yet, so she only nodded.

"Don't be so sad, love. It's not the end. We can still come back here once in a while. It's ours now, and I have wings to take us. I'll send men here to care for the animals and tend to the plants while we're away."

He reached out, lifted her chin to make her look at him, then leaned down and brushed her lips with his. "I promise, we'll return once everything is over."

After I'm certain that whatever's wrong with you is no threat to your life, I'll bring you back here.

Rohan kept that last part to himself. That was the true reason he was going to Aragonia.

Carefully, he settled Angel into a secure sling that crossed over his shoulder and under one arm, tucking the boy firmly against his chest. Even more reassuring was how the baby clutched the front of his shirt, as if sensing safety there.

Then, making sure the little one was snug and safe, Rohan bent down and swept Belle into his arms, slinging the box strap over one of his shoulder.

He carried his family like they weighed nothing, and to him, they truly did. He might have teased his wife about how light she was, especially since she always worried she had gained too much weight after the birth, if he didn't know she was too emotional about leaving to laugh at anything.

She turned her face into his chest, crying silently, her arm slipping around his neck.

With one last, solemn look back at the home they had shared, Rohan opened his wings wide. And with a strong beat, he rose into the sky, carrying his wife, his son, and all that now mattered most to him, away from the yard, away from the cottage that had given him a happiness he had never found anywhere else he'd ever been.