Married To The Mad Vampire Lord - Chapter 428

Chapter 428: The White Witch_Part 2
Belle, who hadn’t even gotten the chance to freshen up or change out of her nightdress, was led by Rohan to meet the white witch in the drawing room. Rohan was restless, almost impatient to get this over with so he could stop worrying about Isabelle pushing Belle to do something else. He lived with a constant fear that one day Isabelle would succeed in pulling her into the land of the dead and that she would never return to him again.

Though Angel’s pregnancy had kept Belle anchored to the living world, Rohan didn’t believe this second child, if there was truly a child, would have that same power. If the heartbeat wasn’t as strong as Angel’s had been, it would mean she was carrying a fully human baby that would develop at a slower pace with no special ability to protect her. That would make everything far more dangerous, as a normal child wouldn’t know how to go easy on its mother.

Though he knew it was entirely his fault for not making any attempt to prevent the pregnancy, because she had made him promise they would have another child and because she’d been so happy at the thought, he still wished, somewhere deep in his heart, that she wasn’t pregnant just yet. He would welcome a child if their second was already growing inside her, but he could still live without it for now.

Rohan held Belle’s hand tightly until they reached the drawing room. Then he released her and introduced her to the middle-aged woman sitting on the couch. The woman rose the moment she saw them enter.

“Meet Madame Rachael,” Rohan said as he made the introduction.

“Your Grace,” the white witch greeted Belle with a respectful bow of her head, addressing her with the title befitting a duchess.

Belle was taken aback, not only by the woman’s respect but by the way she looked. When Rohan had mentioned the witch was elderly, Belle had imagined someone frail and wrinkled. Instead, the woman before her was stunning in an off-white dress. Her skin was smooth, her blue eyes glimmered with calm wisdom, and her kind smile drew an instinctive smile from Belle in return.

Only the woman’s eyes seemed to study her in a way that made her feel suddenly uncomfortable and uncertain.

“How do you do?” Belle asked politely, to which the woman replied sweetly. Then she turned to Rohan and asked,

“Where is the boy you told me about yesterday?”

Rohan had told her about what had appeared in Angel’s hand without revealing that Angel was his son, but he knew the witch already understood. She also knew he wasn’t an ordinary vampire, that demon blood flowed in his veins, and she knew better than to let anyone outside the walls of this castle discover what was going to happen in today.

She was also an outcast, being a white witch in a land where black witches were more welcomed, and she wouldn’t risk her own identity being revealed by betraying the man who had tracked her down to her house when she had hidden herself and blended in so well with the humans in Nightbrook. If he wasn’t a demon, he would have never discovered her disguise.

Rohan left the drawing room briefly and returned carrying his sleeping son in his arms. Angel’s little arms hung limply at his sides, and his head rested against Rohan’s broad shoulder. The boy had opened his eyes for a brief moment when Rohan picked him up from the bed, but the instant he realized it was his father, he fell back asleep with a deep sigh.

Rohan gently laid the sleeping boy on the couch, and the witch turned to look down at him.

“What a fine boy you have, my lord,” she remarked, causing Belle’s head to snapped toward Rohan in alarm at the fact that the woman knew Angel was theirs, but he met her gaze with quiet reassurance.

“It’s all right, I have it handled.” He mouthed to her and she sighed in relief.

Madame Rachael leaned down to take Angel’s hand, tracing her fingers against his fair skin. Slowly, her smile began to fade. She withdrew her hand and turned to look at Rohan and Belle, who were standing close behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Belle asked when she noticed the woman’s furrowed brows and thoughtful expression.

“I don’t understand,” the witch murmured. “He has an energy I have never perceived in anyone before, not even in you, my lord.” She turned to look at Rohan. The moment she had set eyes on him days ago, she had recognized immediately that he wasn’t a single being but a mixed of two powerful creatures.

“What do you mean?” Rohan demanded, bending down over the couch to touch his son’s hand. But he felt nothing, nothing that gave off any bad energy.

“Something in him is dead. I don’t know how else to put it,” she said slowly. “He gives off the same energy as your wife.” Her gaze shifted toward Belle. “The moment she walked in, I felt cold to my bones, the same way I feel whenever I come near a spirit who no longer belongs in the world of the living but refuses to go away. But the boy’s energy… it’s mixed with something entirely different,”

As a witch who only revealed her identity to those she truly trusted, she had been called to exorcise spirits more than once in her life with spells. She had learned to recognize the presence of the dead and the strange energy they gave off when near them. She could feel that presence here, especially from the duchess, and faintly from the little boy as well, which was something deeply abnormal.

Rohan’s frown deepened. He stroked his fingers through Angel’s dark hair and said, “Do you mean the soul attached to my wife is rubbing off on him?”

“I can’t tell until after I perform the spell to drive away the spirit who doesn’t belong here. You can keep the boy close, and I’ll monitor him while I start with your wife first,” she said, turning to Belle.

Belle watched the witch warily, realizing she was powerful enough to sense Isabelle’s spirit even without touching her. A flicker of worry stirred in her chest at the thought that whatever was happening to her might have already rubbed off on her son.

“Will he be fine?” Belle finally asked, glancing towards the sleeping boy on the couch.

“I can’t give my word until I know exactly what we’re dealing with in your soul,” Madame Rachael replied. “From what I sense in you, it’s something big, the presence is far too strong.”

The first thread of unease crept into Belle’s heart as she realized the moment she had dreaded for so long had finally come. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was hosting a dead person’s spirit in her body; she didn’t feel any different from herself except for those moments when Isabelle was triggered by Jamie. Even when she’d been pulled into the other world, she had never truly felt as though another soul was living inside hers, until now, when the witch said she could sense it.

She couldn’t help but wonder when Isabelle had left a part of herself behind and attach it to hers. And what was the reason behind that day her mother said she saw her die? There were so many unanswered questions, and she wished there was someone she could ask.

There was again the question of why she had the same face as Isabelle and Jamie like Deven. It had crossed her mind countless times, but because there were no answers, Belle had never allowed herself to dwell on it.

“Would you like to have breakfast with us before we begin the rituals?” Belle offered, hoping to ease the heavy tension that had settled in the room.

Before Madame Rachael could respond, Rohan gently guided Belle to sit on the couch beside their sleeping son, as though standing too long might harm her. He had started doing this since the night before, the moment the possibility of another pregnancy was mentioned. He had been treating her like something precious and fragile, a patient to be protected.

Belle wanted to tell him she wasn’t weak, that she could handle herself, but in the end, she let him fuss over her. If it eased his mind, then so be it.