Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 286

Chapter 286: Leaving The Cottage_Part 3

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.

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