Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 271

Chapter 271: Confession_Part 1

Rohan had expected to come in and find his wife in a haggard state after everything she had gone through, the exhaustion of releasing a life she had carried inside her for months. But he had not expected what he was met with.

His steps faltered as he slowly walked forward, his eyes taking in the sight of his wife lying on the bed. She was breathing, and her heart was beating, but every inch of her skin was flushed red, as though hidden flames were burning beneath the surface, scorching her from within. Her skin shifted from an angry red to patches of scorched black, flickering like fire, but she made no sound. She lay there in complete silence, seemingly asleep.

Until now, he had only glimpsed these scorched black marks in scattered patches on her body, but this time, they were spreading, nearly consuming every part of her skin he could see.

Rohan fought back his panic as he studied the changes overtaking her. Her beautiful hair was there one moment, then gone the next, burnt away before his eyes. The acrid scent of burning flesh filled the room.

Unable to watch any longer, or stay calm enough to wait and see what might happen next, he tucked the baby securely in one arm and used the other to shake her awake, harder than he meant to. But the fear of losing her still held him in a vice, and he couldn’t control the force of the shake.

Belle’s eyes flew open instantly, the hazel shifting to black, then back to hazel again, and then they found him where he was beside her on the bed.

"Were you having a nightmare, love?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled into a calmness he didn’t feel, trying not to frighten her with what he had just witnessed. Her skin had returned to normal, though it now looked paler than usual. She looked haggard and utterly exhausted now that she was awake.

"No... I was slumbering. Why? Was I speaking in my sleep?" she asked weakly, her voice soft and strained. She blinked repeatedly, trying to fight off the sleep that still pulled at her like a spell. She had felt herself drifting into a deep, mindless slumber when Rohan’s sudden shake had jolted her awake.

Her reply made a little frown settled between Rohan’s brows. Then what had caused the terrifying sight that had greeted him when he first entered? He wondered to himself. Looking at her now, it almost seemed as if he had imagined it. The strange flickering of her skin, the blackened scorch marks, gone. Even the acrid scent of burning flesh had vanished the moment she opened her eyes.

Rohan forced himself to stay composed. He offered her a small smile, cradling the baby gently.

"No, love. Look who’s back, and all cleaned up."

She opened her eyes enough to see that he was holding their son. He was standing there with the baby in his arms, his shirt damp in spots, the sleeves rolled to the elbow, his hair messy, and a soft smile on his lips.

"Oh," she breathed, smiling and holding out an arm. "Can I...see him up closer?"

"Sure. Here he is. And more presentable." He placed the bundle in her arms and watched her tuck the blanket away from the baby’s chin for a better look at his face.

Rohan pushed aside the image he had first seen when he walked into the room to focus on this very moment, where his wife was meeting their son for the first time after his birth. She smiled down at the baby, tears swelling in her eyes as she rubbed a pale knuckle against the round cheek of the infant.

"He’s so adorable, with those big eyes. Oh Lord, he has your eyes, and he’s smiling at me..." she said, a sob rising to her throat as she gazed down at the bundle of adorableness cradled in her arms. "Rohan, come closer."

She reached out and gently pulled him to sit at the edge of the bed so he could look down at the smiling baby.

"I think he has your nose, love," Rohan said softly, studying his son’s face.

"Oh, he’s so lovely. I can’t believe he’s ours," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Within Rohan, a wellspring of feeling surged, love for the woman, a tender welcome for the child, and in some quiet corner of his soul, the aching lament of a man who would always wonder if his own mother had ever held him like this. Had she smiled at him with such sweetness, traced his features with a fingertip, kissed his forehead with the reverence he now saw in Belle’s touch? The thought tightened his throat as he watched, overwhelmed.

Definitely not. He had no memories of her ever holding him since the moment he was born. He had been cast aside even before he knew he was unwanted.

He leaned forward and folded aside the opposite edge of the soft receiving blanket to take a better look at his son. He had never been loved by either of his parents. But he would make up for it, he would make up for all of it, by watching Belle lavish this precious one with the love he had never known.

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