Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 126: "Stop it..."

Perhaps the slap had killed something inside her, and that something had made her so numb she did not even cry.

The hand that had once caressed her cheeks and wiped away her tears whenever she went to him after carrying the heavy burden of not being loved as equally as her sister—the hand that had held her in a gentlemanly way against his chest and whispered to her that everything would be fine once he married her and got her away from the Dawson household, even though she always told him then that it wasn’t her family’s fault—had hit her now.

When you thought you knew someone so well you could swear to anyone that the person was this certain kind, only for that person to be different, it made one realize you had loved an image you only wanted to believe in and not the real person. One could not suddenly change unless you had that personality in you all along.

The words he had spoken to her and the way he had dragged her on the ground without stopping, even as she bruised and bled—that could never be done by someone who loved you. His actions hurt her more than his words had. It broke something inside, shattered her to the point it was so intense and overwhelming it had transitioned to numbness.

Her throat burned with emotions, but her eyes were dry and stinging, and she stared at her bleeding knees, too in disbelief to even move.

She only sat there in a shock-rendered state, unaware of her surroundings, until she heard a loud clash.

The clash was enough to snap Belle out of her lost, paralyzed state.

She looked up at where Jamie had been standing only a moment ago, but instead of finding him standing there, he was held up in midair by one hand, and his legs were flinging and hitting the wagon side.

Belle’s stinging eyes cleared, and when she saw who was holding Jamie by the neck, strangling the life out of him, her heart skipped a beat.

For a moment, she felt something ease away from her heart and made her come alive again. He was here. Her stomach fluttered like a thousand butterflies were flying around, and a warmth so familiar spread to her cold body.

Rohan...

She almost wanted to cry in joy at the sight of him and the fact that he had come to find her.

But then he looked... angry. So angry, angrier than she had ever seen, that the moon highlighted it. His features were hard and throbbing with veins, his jaw clenched, and his fangs in plain sight. It sent a shiver down her spine, dousing the joyous leap in her heart at his presence.

He wasn’t even looking at her, and then she realized something—

He was punching and bashing Jamie’s face with his other hand like he wanted to kill him.

---

Ever since Rohan had been released from the asylum, he had managed to rein in his temper by some sheer stroke of luck.

He did not let himself lose that control that had been forced upon him by the brutal ways of the asylum treatment. But today, there was no power in this world that could control or force him to keep it in check.

He was angry beyond words when he realized, right under his nose, his wife had been taken. And because he had been too lost thinking about what he would do to her body to make her eyes lustful so he could paint her, he had been unaware of everything.

He had been in the room, uninterested in his second cousin who had stripped before him, asking him to take her. Had it been the Rohan who took women and used them to feel certain feelings inside him, he wouldn’t have given a damn and fucked her like she wanted and then sent her away.

But he was a man who had decided to stay loyal to his wife no matter what. Not to mention, his wife gave him all those feelings he sought in carnal pleasure without him ever even taking her.

He had laughed at his cousin and thrown his coat at her body, then grabbed her and pulled her down the stairs until he reached outside the castle.

He had ordered one of the male servants given to him by the king to take her back to her father’s house in the carriage before he strangled her to death for making him see another woman’s bare body. He didn’t even allow her to take her trunk, and perhaps due to shame—which he believed she had none—but pride, she left after saying,

"You will regret this, cousin Rohan. Mark my words."

Rohan did not give a damn. He had had enough of her in his castle. He was turning to go back inside after watching the carriage leave with Cordelia when Kuhn suddenly appeared in front of him. Then the creature delivered news so strong it made his rage rise up immediately.

His wife had been taken. Kuhn had informed him while also saying that he had followed and seen the direction the person who took her went. They were traveling toward the border.

Now, here, where he had landed right on time to see the bastard hit his woman, Rohan could see nothing but red and the instinct to kill.

In a flash, he grabbed the human by the neck and, with his other hand, broke the same wrist of the hand he had just used to hit his wife. A groan surged up the man’s throat, but Rohan made it stick in his throat as he tightened his grip around it, watching the human’s eyes turn bloody red.

"What did you fucking think? You could take my wife away and I would let you be, you fucking idiot?!" Rohan growled through clenched teeth as he used his other hand to punch heavily against the human’s stupid face. His nose instantly broke, blood gushed out, and the next blow dislocated his jaw.

Rohan’s vision filmed red with fury that made him think of only one thing—to kill the loser here and now. He delivered another strong punch to the beaten face, and Jamie immediately went slack in his hand.

Rohan wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more. He wanted to beat him more, that even when he fell unconscious, he continued to deliver more blows on his bloody, broken face.

He was so unaware of everything that he didn’t realize his wife was screaming for him to stop, that the man would die. Yes, let him die, Rohan thought. Let him fucking die!

He kept hitting him until he felt a hold on his arm. The hold wasn’t strong enough to stop him, but the trembling in the weak grasp made him instantly freeze and let go of the human’s neck, whose body fell like a broken rag doll to the ground—his face bloody and his nose broken, unconscious or even dead. Rohan did not give a damn and turned his head slowly to his wife, who was pulling at his arm weakly, like she had no strength left at all but needed to stop him.

When he relaxed his tense muscles, she pulled the hand to her chest, where her heart was beating wildly and yet weakly. She hugged his arm.

Through his fury, he saw her pale face, her blonde hair drenched with muddy water and disheveled. The robe she wore had loosened and revealed the dress she had worn for him to paint her—one that was inappropriate for outside attire and revealed more of her rounded breasts.

But she did not seem to care as she clutched to his arm as if to hold him back from killing the human, if he had not already killed him with all those blows. He could smell her blood—it was so strong in the air, his fury began to disappear. It disappeared enough for him to hear she was murmuring words.

"...stop it. Don’t kill him. Please. Don’t..." she said, tears streaking down her face.