Why were they playing it this loud? she wondered, and turned back to her husband when she felt him lean down towards her ear to whisper, "Stay close to me until the music stops."
Belle frowned. "Why? I am not going anywhere. Is the sound bothering you?" she asked, and she heard him grit his teeth as he groaned softly, as if in silent agony. "Very much."
"Why?" she asked again, curious, as she noticed that he seemed to have something with loud sounds. Just like when they were coming to Nightbrook after their wedding, he had seemed bothered by the sounds of the market where they had stopped to buy her food. It was time she put more effort into knowing this man and studying him properly.
Though the music was loud, it wasn’t enough to make any vampire uncomfortable, as they seemed to resume with their activities—though many kept looking towards them and staring at them, including the king and queen at their high chair.
When Rohan did not reply, Belle decided to make him talk by saying, "I will go and mingle with the guests and make acquaintance if you don’t tell me why I needed to stick with you." She threatened, liking that she finally had the upper hand with this unmovable mountain who had never showed that he could be affected by anything—but now, as he struggled to stand straight on his two feet...
He turned his head slightly in her direction as if to glare at her, but then he squeezed his eyes shut when the music rang loudly again. Groaning softly, he said, "Don’t think you will get away with threatening me, Isa. I will get back at you after this. I promise."
Belle bit back a small smile and rolled her eyes. "I don’t think you can get back at me if I decide to walk away from you now. The music seems to be getting louder, my Lord. Why don’t you like it?" she questioned, leaning closer to him as if whispering some gossip into his ear.
Belle was never like this before, but thanks to being around a man like him, she had begun to learn how to get what she wanted from someone. He always threatened her with things she wasn’t comfortable with to get her into giving in, and now she was using his own medicine to torture him so he could taste the feeling.
But then she realized that the music was getting to him more than she had thought, because he seemed like he would fall but then steadied himself and grabbed her hand even tighter. She instinctively wrapped her hand around his strong bicep to support him properly.
Too many people seemed to press around Rohan. He didn’t like it. He would have found amusement in the notion that his wife was finally, and slowly, coming out of her little shell to use his own method on him to get her way, but he couldn’t even focus completely.
The noise and people seemed to crush him, stared at him, talked all at the same time until he couldn’t hear what they were saying—not to mention the deafening, blastered music that made him want to go around the hall slashing each and every one of the damned musicians playing it, and then round on his fucking royal majesty and gouge out his damned eyes from his head for putting him through this!
But then he dared not follow his instinct to do all those things. He was not mad, and he would not let them reduce him to the life of the madhouse like a lunatic when he was as sane as every one of them in the hall.
Killing even one person now would warrant him an entire life in a place he hated, and then his bunny would either be forced to stay in Nightbrook without the protection of anyone, or be sent to the human slaves’ establishment to breed more humans while making the humans believe she was in safe hands.
The thought of another man, a filthy slave, touching what was his sent his blood roaring hotly in his veins. He knew more than anyone how the life in the slave establishment was, because he’d gone there more than once to watch how the humans were treated like livestock chickens. He could never imagine his sweetheart in a place like that. She was his.
He had not brought her to Nightbrook for him to leave her unprotected in the hands of people who wanted him eliminated completely. No matter how strong one was, they could never be entirely indestructible—he had few weaknesses, and this damn noise was the biggest of them. It could reduce him to nothing and would give them the chance to take him away into the madhouse without a fight.
"It’s good one of us knows how to dance. Lead me to it," he said with a straight face that was trying so hard not to scowl in annoyance or darken in deadly fury by the music.
Belle was taken aback. "You don’t know how to dance?" she asked, and he tilted his head to the side and gave her a deadpanned look.
"No, I am just pretending. Teach me how to move to the blasted music. I have never danced before."
Belle remained silent for a great few seconds as she couldn’t believe a man who had once been a prince had never danced before—when it was taught right from a young age to master the act. She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder and then began to instruct him how to move to the music. She was astonished when, in no time, he seemed to master the act and then began to take the lead like someone who had done it many times before.
She began to doubt if he had been lying to her about not knowing how to dance at all, because no one could have mastered it this soon. He let go of her waist and swirled her around and then pulled her back into him, allowing her to fall sideways with his arm around her waist, and then pulled her back up and brought her body into his, with her legs lifting off the ground for a moment as he brought their faces to the same level.
Belle was out of breath as he slowly let her slide down his solid body in such a slow motion where she felt every inch of him graze against her. She was momentarily stunned to feel something below his abdomen prodding against her stomach as he let her slide down to her feet. What was that she felt in his trousers that grazed her?
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