Married To The Mad Vampire Lord
Chapter 261: Dream house_Part 1

Chapter 261: Dream house_Part 1

She was warm, and surprisingly comfortable. The feeling was a stark contrast to what she remembered until this moment, and it made her dread opening her eyes for fear that this was a dream, and she was still lying on the floor of that cold hallway, with a man looming over her, about to cut her...

She stilled, every muscle freezing with an awful realization that made her slowly lift her hand, without opening her eyes.

She brought the hand toward her stomach, beneath what felt like a soft fur blanket, and touched her belly.

The firm bulge made a wave of relief wash over her, and she finally dared to open her eyelids.

Brightness.

Too bright.

She quickly shut her eyes again and groaned at the sting in the back of her eyes, the sudden, hurtful light burning through her lids.

Letting her eyes remain closed, she tried instead to focus on her other senses. Her head hurt slightly, along with several parts of her body, but the ache was dull, barely noticeable, as she tried to move experimentally.

She could hear the soft, clear sounds of birds singing in the distance, and the faint sound of flowing water, like a river or creek running over rock, splashing and moving.

The sound was so soothing it almost lulled her back to sleep, but she fought it. She wasn’t certain where she was, or how such peaceful sounds could even be possible when the last thing she recalled was awful chaos and disaster.

A gently warm spring breeze kissed her cheeks, and she tried again to open her eyes, this time, slowly.

Light fluttered through her lashes like beams of sun through leaves, and when she finally opened her eyes completely, her vision blurred for a moment before clearing just enough to take in her surroundings.

A frown drew her brows together.

Where was she?

She was met with an unfamiliar brown wooden ceiling, plain and without a grand chandelier. The bedpost beside her, which held pink drapes tied to the side, was equally unfamiliar and simple.

To her right, a beam of afternoon sunlight streamed through an open window, where pink curtains swayed gently in the warm breeze drifting in. When she turned her head to the side, she saw a nightstand holding an empty bowl and several small bottles of ointment.

Belle knew she should be alarmed by her unfamiliar surroundings, but she wasn’t. Instead, she pushed herself into a sitting position to better look around, the movement of sitting down causing a little discomfort to shoot through her body.

The room was small compared to any bedroom she’d stayed in before. There was no vanity table, just a desk with a mirror. On the other side was a brown wooden screen. The bed she laid in was also smaller than she was used to, but soft, with light pink fur blankets and sheets.

Belle found herself smoothing her hands over the soft pink fur. She had always dreamed of having pink sheets and a fur blanket, and it astonished her that this looked exactly like what she had always wanted.

The room held a lingering scent of warm lavender, her favorite fragrance. The birdsong and the flowing water sounds... It was almost like she had woken from a nightmare and fallen straight into her dream home.

If this was a dream, then before she could be thrust back into a bitter reality, Belle decided to look around and see if everything she had ever imagined having in her simple home was here, just like the soft pink touches scattered across the room.

Back when she believed she would marry Jamie and live a quiet, peaceful life, she had secretly made plans for her future home. She had dreamed of how their bedchamber would look. And this... this came close.

She moved her legs off the bed and stood up with a little difficulty, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to explore. Just like in her dream home, there was a thick pink rug in the center of the room. The rug had a streak of flower patterns, and when she stepped onto it with her bare feet, it tickled her, making her smile.

A slight pain tugged at her cheek, almost making her grimace, a flash of the nightmare threatening to return, but she pushed it away, determined to enjoy this beautiful dream.

Feeling her baby stir inside her, she laid a hand over her stomach and made her way toward the open window, where the curtain swayed gently. Moving the sheer fabric aside, Belle stepped forward, and her eyes widened at the scenery outside. The sunlight made her squint slightly, but the beauty of it all brought another smile to her face.

There was indeed a flowing creek, its waters dancing over smooth stones. Fresh green grass blanketed the vast ground, with sunflowers and morning glories blooming across the yard. Butterflies in different shades fluttered around the blossoms, and chickens roamed freely, pecking at unseen insects. One of the roosters even crowed from somewhere nearby.

Belle was stunned. So stunned she let go of the sheer pink curtain and walked toward the door in a dazed, trance-like state.

She must be dreaming.

She stepped out and walked toward a narrow wooden staircase. The wood creaked beneath her feet as she made her way down the short flight of steps into the living space, an open area that combined the kitchen, dining, and sitting rooms into one warm and inviting space.

But what caught her attention first was the aroma of something delicious... the comforting smell of fresh coffee and something baking in the oven. Her stomach rumbled hungrily in response.

She let her nose guide her into the kitchen.

The kitchen was just as she had always imagined it to be: a dining table meant for four with a fresh apple basket, and at one side, a stove with a pot of something boiling, steam rising from under the lid, allowing the delicious aroma to travel through the house.

A book was opened on the table, and when she walked closer, she saw it was a cookbook.

The kitchen had a back door that led outside, but before she could think about looking out, she felt the presence of someone enter through that door. Her heart leapt in her chest.

She didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.

Her soul knew it, recognized the presence.

Was she still dreaming, or was this the reality of the small house she had always dreamed of owning?

Belle turned slowly, and true to her heart’s whisper, her husband stood in the doorway. Shirtless, with a few logs of wood in his arms, sweat glistening on his hard bronze skin, his dark blue hair clinging damply to his forehead. His loose black trousers hung low on his narrow waist, smeared with dust and dirt. But nothing could dull his breathtaking beauty.

Their eyes met, and neither of them blinked.

Rohan had never held her gaze this long. This must be part of her dream, him, in her little dream house, cooking, carrying logs he must have chopped in the yard, all covered in sweat.

It couldn’t be real.

Her Rohan wasn’t a man who fit into such a simple life... like the Rohan standing there now, staring at her like he couldn’t believe she was real either.

Belle tried not to blink, wanting to absorb this version of him into her mind before she’d wake up to a harsh reality. She watched him blink, finally, and let the logs of wood fall from his arms. They dropped to the floor, hitting his feet, but he didn’t seem to care or noticed.

In a breath, he crossed the space between them.

One moment she was standing, watching him; the next, she was crushed into his strong arms, her head pressed against his bare chest, his fingers threading into the hair at her nape, his other hand possessively wrapped around her thick waist.

"I thought you’d never wake up from that awfully long sleep, my love. I’m glad you did. I’m so glad." He groaned into her neck as he buried his nose there, inhaling deeply and pressing his warm lips to her skin, sending that familiar tingling sensation through her body, making her finally realize...

This felt too real to be a dream.

Was she not dreaming? she wondered, as she tentatively raised her arms and wrapped them around his narrow waist, holding him back, pressing into him.

"Rohan... am I dreaming?" she whispered softly into his chest.

She felt him smile against her skin as his hand trailed down to grip her hips and pull her tighter against his hardened body—her breath hitched at the familiar bulge in his trousers.

"It’s no dream, my love."

He pulled away slightly, cupping her shoulders as he looked down at her face, where tears shimmered in her spiky lashes.

"You shouldn’t be out of bed," he said gently. "You should have called for me instead of coming down. Are you in any pain or discomfort? I gave you medicine last night to ease your body aches and help keep you nourished. I also fed you blood, for the baby. You shouldn’t be on your feet. You—"

"It feels like a dream..." she whispered, cutting off his string of worried words.

He had been examining her while he spoke, but she was still trying to grasp the reality of it all. It still felt too impossible to believe.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. And before she could even register the motion, he leaned in and kissed her, deeply.

It was a kiss that said everything.

He kissed her like he wanted to drink from her mouth, both hands holding her head, molding their lips together with hunger, emotion, and relief.

The kiss was raw, quick, and needy, but it ended far too soon, just before she could savor it fully.

He drew back, eyes locked with hers, and Belle stood there, heart thundering, lips tingling, soul dizzy from the trace of him still lingering on her mouth.