Married To The Mad Vampire Lord - Chapter 492

Chapter 492: “Don’t leave me, Isa!”
The moment the smell of her blood hit his nose, something inside Rohan ruptured so violently that the world around him simply… dropped away. The cannons, the gunfire, the cracking bones, everything vanished as if someone had torn sound itself from the air.

The battlefield kept moving, mouths open in shouts he could no longer hear, bodies falling in dust he could no longer sense. His ears rang with a single, fierce pulse that wasn’t sound at all but the thunder of his own heart pounding through him.

Belle’s weight sagged heavier in his arms, and her breath hitched against his chest.

The small body of their newborn was squeezed between them, whimpering faintly, yet even that sound did not reach him. She had been shot…

It was only her blood that he felt. Only her. The chaos was still happening, but it might as well have been a dream a thousand miles away. His entire being narrowed to the warmth seeping through his fingers, until she moaned out his name and whispered,

“I…I think I got hit…”

Those words broke the spell, and the sounds of the battlefield slammed back into him all at once as her body staggered, and he followed her to the ground, cradling her upper body in his arms.

“Wh-where did you get hit?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically shaky and strained, as he began to search frantically. His hand touched the side of her chest that was bleeding profoundly, and she cried out in pain, clutching the front of his shirt tightly.

Rohan felt his stomach dropped as he realized she had been hit in two places: one bullet in the side of her chest and the other in the side of her stomach. Though he had taken most of the bullets to his back, it had slid passed his wings feathers to hit her in two places.

Blood flowed freely from the wound, soaking into his trousers. He knew little to nothing about saving a human life when shot by a gun, but he reached out, intending to press his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding as losing so much blood could kill. That only made Belle hiss in sharp pain and to whimper in his arms in agony.

“You’re bleeding so much. I need to stop it. I need to stop it!” He said in a frantic fearful voice as he looked down at where the blood was sipping out of the bullet wound like a pipe had been broken.

Guns were something only recently introduced in their lands, and few had ever known someone who survived a bullet. Belle knew this, and as the pain tore through her, she was forced to part her lips and ask Rohan a question, for the agony was unlike anything she had ever felt.

“Rohan…is it that bad? Will I die…?” she gasped, looking up at him with teary eyes, her mind already growing disoriented from the pain and hazy from the blood she was losing. But Rohan could only shake his head, unable to trust himself to speak, a large lump of fear lodged so tightly in his throat that he couldn’t force a single word out.

“No, I…I’ll get you out of here. Let’s go home. I’ll find someone to treat you,” he said, gathering her into his arms along with the crying baby. As he rose to his feet, Rohan’s body burned with the pain of the bullet in his back that wouldn’t heal unless removed. But despite the searing agony, he opened his wings and lifted them into the air. The war below had blown so far out of proportion that none of the soldiers on either side had the time to notice the winged figure rising from the bloody chaos, covered in blood and carrying nothing but fear in his heart.

“Andrea…” Belle gasped in a small whisper as Rohan spread his wings and, with immense effort, began to lift off higher, her head turning to see Andrea curled up in a ball in the middle of the chaos, her body still on the ground. A stab of guilt tore through Belle for being unable to help the other woman. She couldn’t even help herself, and had ended up being shot. A tear slid down her cheek as her breathing became labored, the bullet’s heat burning like molten iron inside her flesh, yet she did not release her grip on the crying baby. She turned to look away from the battle.

Both Belle’s and Rohan’s blood trailed their path as he flew through the sky, dripping to the ground below. Rohan pushed every ounce of strength he had left, heading toward the town, intending to find a doctor on the way who could save Belle from the bullet wounds. But the town, and the surrounding vampire cities, were deserted; everyone had fled into hiding by this time with nothing but empty streets and houses and the battle cry in the distance.

He descended into the middle of the town where he knew the doctor lived. He placed Belle gently on the ground and ran from door to door, breaking in, knocking, and calling, “Who’s out there? Doctor Harry!” He called the man he used to come and take from here and compell to treat his wife in the castle.

Only his voice echoed back in the silence of the deserted town, where the wind howled and the lingering smell of explosives burned the air. Through it all, he heard his wife’s faint voice calling for him and the baby’s loud, crying wails.

Rohan spun on his heels back toward her and dropped to his knees, trying to lift her upper body into his arms. She cried out, “Don’t…move me. It hurts so much.” Though her voice was faint, a bitter smile remained on her face as she stared up at his distraught, fearful eyes of her husband.

“Isa…I can’t find the doctor here. I need to take you to another town. I have to find someone to remove the bullet without hurting you, or taking your life,” Rohan said, his voice trembling and disoriented even to his own ears. He would have tried to remove it if he was certain he wouldn’t be harming her more.

Belle’s eyes filled with hot tears, but the smile remained as she whispered, “I think…it’s too late, my love.”

Rohan shook his head. “We can make it in time. Nothing’s too late.”

“It is this time around, Rohan. A few days ago, I noticed a bigger reaper following me…but I didn’t want to believe it was meant for me… I can see him right now.”

Though Belle had noticed the reaper looked slightly different from the rest, she had not dwelled on it, determined it wouldn’t be her dying. But seeing the reaper up close and noticing his distinction from the usual ones now that he was standing close, everything fell into place. This was one of the reapers in charge of perishing souls rather than guiding them to the land of the dead.

“Rohan…” Belle whispered, her lips quivering. He shook his head in denial. “If this is my last moment with you, can you do me a favor?”

“God-damnit, Isa. Stop it. I won’t let you die. I can remove the damn bullet myself!” he growled, moving to turn her to the side, letting his claws extend so he could use it to remove it. But Belle grabbed his hand, her face contorted in pain, stopping him.

“Rohan…you can’t save me when my death is already waiting. Stop it… it hurts.” she cried when he refused to listen, but the moment her cry sharpened with pain, he froze. His hands stopped, his breathing stilled, and his eyes snapped to hers, those wide, terrified hazel eyes fixed on him.

“You’ll kill me faster if… if you try to remove it,” she rasped, gripping his hand, the one with his grown claws, and interlocking her fingers with his. She held it tightly, desperately, as if she could squeeze time into stopping. She knew this would be the last time she held that strong, warm hand in hers. Knowing it was the last time made her cling to him with a ferocity born from a soul already cracking.

“Isa, don’t leave me. I can’t live without you. There will be no light left in me. You know that, don’t you?” Rohan breathed, dragging their interlocked fingers to his chest and letting her feel the heart she had given life to.

His heart pounded beneath her palm with such force it felt like it might rip free from him entirely. He wanted to save her, to rip out the bullet and fight fate itself, but the thought of pushing her into more agony, of killing her faster than the bleeding already was, stopped him cold from daring to try anything.

Belle felt the violent strength of his heartbeat against her hand and lifted her gaze to his tear‑filled eyes. The faint smile remained on her pale face as she whispered, “Are you willing to do me the favor now?”

“Anything for you, my heart. Anything, as long as you won’t leave me here,” he murmured, clutching her hand between both of his because he couldn’t hold her body anymore, not when she was in so much pain and her blood had pooled around her, soaking into the ground, into his knees, into everything around them.