Married To The Mad Vampire Lord - Chapter 511

Chapter 511: What happened to him?!
“I am…” she murmured softly.

Rohan grinned. “I’ll have it done in no time. Is Roseline sleeping?” he asked, turning back to the pan to avoid making her uncomfortable with his gaze, his gaze that lingered on her far too long. It wasn’t his fault; he couldn’t stop looking at her. He couldn’t erase the image of her dead body from his mind, and only by watching her now did he feel reassured that she was truly fine and truly back with him at long last.

Everything still felt surreal, her, the children, and being in the cottage again. It felt like a dream that had followed the long nightmare of the days he had endured without her. If it were up to him, he would keep her in front of him every second just to assure himself that nothing would take her from him again.

“Yes. She eats and sleeps quite a lot. I also noticed her cry sounds really strange, is something wrong with her?” Belle asked, looking at his broad back and noticing how he briefly paused his stirring at her question before he resumed it again to answer.

“She was born that way,” he told her with a white lie. Giving the real answer, that she had been born in the middle of a war and had inhaled too much toxic air, would do nothing but bring more questions and more pain to her. If there was one memory he didn’t want her remembering, it was her time in the establishment and the moment she was shot in the middle of the battle, the moment he had failed to protect her.

“Oh,” came Belle’s small reply. “I guess she will grow up to have a hoarse voice. I was almost scared, because her cries seemed to fade even while her mouth was still open in a cry. Is there perhaps something that can be done to make her cry normally at least?” Belle asked again, not knowing what other topic to talk about with Rohan and wanting to get to know him a little more better, wanting to see what had made her marry him in the first place. It felt safer and easier to talk about the children, and she was genuinely concerned about her daughter’s voice.

“I will look for something to help her voice, you don’t have to worry. Once…” Rohan stopped himself from completing the sentence. He had wanted to say once the world had settled and calmed down from the catastrophe he’d caused it. It wouldn’t do any good if she heard that now, not when she had no memories and might think him a monster who had killed people without understanding he had done it for her sake.

“Once I bring Evenly and her babies,” he added instead.

“Is this Evenly a family? I heard Angel mention her with someone called Rav. Who are they?” she asked curiously.

Rohan smiled bitterly. “You once told me they are now like part of our family, so I guess they are family. Only Evenly and the babies will be coming.”

Belle bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could at least remember some of these memories so she would be prepared to live with them. “What about Rav? Why won’t he come?”

Rohan paused in his attempt to open the other pot where potatoes were boiling next to where he was frying. “Rav is dead,” he told her, the easiest answer to give.

“Uncle Rav is not dead, Papa. His soul didn’t leave his body. He only ran away from the castle from Enny and me, but I promised to find him for Enny very soon,” Angel chimed in, causing Rohan to turn sharply to look at the boy, who still carried the belief that Rav wasn’t gone. Turning into a rogue was as good as dead, but there was no way to make the boy understand that, not when he believed what he wanted to believe with such stubborn innocence.

Only that Rohan wished Angel hadn’t spoken any of it in front of Belle, whose curiosity now burned.

“What does he mean?” Belle asked Rohan, and Rohan, who saw that Angel had continued washing the vegetables like he hadn’t said anything alarming at all, looked at his wife and mouthed, “He’s in denial.”

Belle’s brow rose, then settled back down as understanding slowly formed inside her. Her son must have liked this uncle, this Rav he kept mentioning, enough that after the man’s death he simply couldn’t accept it. She thought about this quietly, deciding not to ask anything more about the man she didn’t know.

Silence fell in the kitchen for a few moments, with only the firewood under the stove crackling and sparking, the sizzling in the pan, and the sloshing of water from the basin filling the space. It didn’t feel right for her to keep standing here without saying or doing anything, and the quiet was becoming too awkward.

“Is there something I can do to help in the kitchen?” Belle asked, not wanting to simply stand around while they worked. Angel, too busy splashing water and making a mess to even glance up, replied:

“No. I’ve got to wash these leaves real well so there’s no sand when Papa cooks them. You cannot do it, Mama, you have just come back to us and need many rest, like Papa say. This is our work now,” he huffed, puffing like he had been running as he scrubbed the vegetables with his small hands as if he were washing clothes.

Oh, goodness, those vegetables will no longer be usable with the way he is washing them, Belle thought with a faint smile.

“Yes, there is something you can do,” Rohan said with a mischievous smile, contradicting his son’s words. He liked Belle’s company far too much to let her leave the kitchen, and he wasn’t about to hide it.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Come here, love.” Rohan turned to look at her and beckoned with the spoon. She hesitated for a moment, then moved closer, stopping at a cautious distance.

“I am here. What can I do?”

“You can’t help me standing so far away, love. I want you right here in front of me while I stir the bacon, like we used to. I miss it, cooking in the cottage with you nestled in front of me,” he said, stretching out his hand and pulling her forward, wrapping his arm around her waist.

But Belle acted quick, her body reacting faster than her thoughts. She pressed her hands against his chest and stepped away from him quickly. The sudden movement strained the wounded muscles in his back, sending a sharp, tearing pain radiating through him. Rohan let go of her hand at once.

He tried to hide the pain, but he couldn’t this time. The spoon slipped from his fingers, clattering uselessly to the floor as he bent over, dizziness surging through his head. Heat bloomed along his spine, burning into his stomach and twisting it.

Belle noticed immediately how the color drained from his face. She stepped toward him instinctively, reaching out to steady him just as his knees buckled. Panic shot through her as he bent completely, and then the world tipped, he collapsed onto the kitchen floor, unconscious.

“Rohan!” she cried out, dropping to her knees and pulling his head onto her lap, cradling him without knowing what else to do, nor understanding how she had hurt him or why he had suddenly collapsed.

Angel, who had been sitting in front of the large basin, jerked to his feet with such force that the basin and the small chair toppled over as he ran toward them.

“Mama, what happened?” Angel asked, falling to his knees as well and grabbing his father’s hand, pulling it away from the hot stove where the firewood burned dangerously close to his hand.

Belle, consumed by panic and fear at the sight of Rohan going down like that, parted her lips to speak. “I…I don’t know. He…he just groaned and fell down. Help me move him away from the stove, Angel.” Her breath shuddered in her chest. She felt so stupid for pushing him, yet a man his size shouldn’t collapse like that from a simple push. Something else must have been wrong with him, terribly wrong, for him to fall like that, looking as if he were in agony. The memory of his pained expression just before he lost consciousness made her all the more shaky.

Belle pushed her arms beneath Rohan’s upper body and locked them under his armpits from behind, dragging him with all the strength she had so he wouldn’t be burned. Angel pulled too, small hands but determined to help.

They managed to move him into the living area and eased him onto the buffalo rug in the middle of the room. Belle leaned over him quickly, noticing at once that he was sweating profusely even though the air was cold. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead and gasped at the scorching heat of his skin.

“He has a fever. How did he suddenly fall sick when he looked just fine?” Belle muttered to herself, bewildered. But Angel, who was right beside her, heard her worry and whispered,

“Mama…Papa doesn’t have fever. Papa has many wounds on his back. I saw it when he was wearing his shirt at the castle, but Papa said it was nothing.”

The concern on Belle’s face deepened, turning into something heavier inside her chest. She reached out immediately with swift fingers and began unbuttoning Rohan’s shirt. Her hands shook as she removed each button, then pushed the fabric apart. “Help me raise his arm,” she urged, straining to remove the shirt from beneath his heavy arm. Angel helped her with all the strength his small body could offer.

With difficulty, they peeled away the shirt that clung stubbornly to his back skin for some reason. They rolled him gently onto his stomach.

Belle’s eyes fell on his bare back, and the blood drained from her face at what she saw.

“Oh my god…” she whispered, on the verge of tears as she stared at the wounds covering him.