Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 230: Doubtful

Belle chuckled softly at Rohan’s words and then assured him, "The kick wasn’t painful, it just caught me off guard, that’s all. He’s been obedient lately. I think the kick was for you being absent this morning when we woke up. Where have you been? I woke up alone in bed," she said with a pout on her plump, naturally pink lips as she looked down at him.

It was always unusual to wake up without her husband in bed holding her since she became pregnant. He was always there, but this morning, he hadn’t been, and when she asked Rav, she was told Rohan wasn’t around.

As much as she didn’t want to be clingy, his unconditional attention and care, the way he made sure she had everything she wanted, even whatever she craved in the middle of the night, had made her so used to his constant presence that she couldn’t help her clinginess at times. Especially now, when her pregnancy made her want to be around him all the time.

They had come so far in their relationship that even though he had never told her he loved her verbally, his actions spoke those words and conveyed them louder than anything else. And though she didn’t want to pry too deeply into whatever he did, a part of her was curious—where had he been since last night, only just returning now?

Rohan had been out all night, as he had gone to meet that witch, and afterwards, tried to use his wings to test how much they had healed in the past month, preparing himself for the future when he would begin executing his plans to take over Nightbrook.

His wing feathers had grown back, and he could fly with them just like before. His strength was also returning, as he had given himself enough rest over time, which was what he had needed all those time.

Not only that—he had used his wings to fly to another town in search of a second witch, just in case the first one annoyed him again or dared to make poison for him instead of the potion he had requested. If she did, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her and then expose her dead body to the authorities as a witch, so her death wouldn’t become a big issue.

He had gone in search of another witch, far away from here, to make the potion for him.

If only there had been another way to find out what his wife truly was, he wouldn’t have opted for this method—the true-self revealing potion that exposed a person’s real identity, even when that person had no idea what they were. One’s inner self comes to light.

He already knew she wasn’t a witch nor a vampire or demon, she was something entirely different. Something that probably had to do with the land of the dead...

Though he had no plans of using the potion on her without first testing it on himself, he wanted to have it in his possession by the time she would have given birth and they were out of this restricting land.

He did not care whatever she was, as he was willing to be with her, but not knowing what she truly was, and having someone tell him she was dead, made him constantly worry that a day would come when he would wake up to find her gone, and everything he had with her would feel like a sweet dream his lonely mind had conjured up to make him happy in the meantime.

Not knowing was killing him as much as knowing that she was said to be dead and yet alive with him. How could a dead person be alive? What did that mean? And most of all, what were those black patches he noticed once on her skin when she was asleep? It worried him more than he wanted it to, which was why he was trying to find the potion.

"I went out to do something," he said, without telling her what it was, as he did not want to add to her stress when she was barely holding on in this state. As much as their child was being careful not to hurt her, it didn’t change the fact that she still occasionally went through pain—whether from the baby’s hunger or the sheer burden of carrying another life inside her.

"Something? Is it something I shouldn’t know about?" she asked, giving him a mock-suspicious look with her bright hazel eyes. He reached up a hand to gently touch her cheek.

When he nodded his head, she pursed her lips in displeasure as she did not like him keeping secrets from her.

"I want to know. Tell me where you went last night, please," she added pleadingly, looking down at him. They had come so far together to still carry secrets and hide things from each other. She didn’t want silence or doubt creeping in, not when they had already built so much trust between them.

She trusted him, but her treacherous mind couldn’t help whispering that maybe he’d gone to seek pleasure elsewhere—or why else would he hide where he had been? In their society, it was a completely normal thing, so she wouldn’t have been surprised. Still, she didn’t want to feed those thoughts or let jealousy gnaw at her.

He looked at her for a moment, as if silently contemplating whether he should tell her or not, and then he sighed and said, "It’s not what you’re thinking, wife. I went out to look for a witch—not for pleasure."

Belle hadn’t expected that at all, and she flushed in embarrassment. To be honest, she had assumed he’d gone out for a little pleasurable escape, especially since she wasn’t in the condition to entertain him every night now. It was a common enough thing in their world, and though he had never given her a reason to suspect such behavior, her thoughts had wandered anyway. And now, she felt suddenly ashamed for even thinking that of him.

She quickly composed herself and cleared her throat, mildly flustered that, as usual, he could see right through her thoughts and figure out exactly what she’d been thinking. Not wanting to admit she had, in fact, believed he might have gone out for pleasure, she asked instead, her voice laced with curiosity,

"Why? I mean... why did you go looking for a witch?"

He reached out his hands and held hers on her lap, squeezing it gently as he replied to her, "Because I wanted something done. A potion to be exact, that when one takes it, one’s hidden identity and powers will be revealed. It was for you, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind what you are, I just wanted—"

"I understand," Belle mused. "I have also thought about that a few times—about knowing what I truly am and understanding myself more. It’s totally fine that you are also curious about it. Did you find the potion?" she questioned, anticipation in her tone, as it would mean more than anything to her to know why she was the way she was.

Rohan shook his head. "Not yet."

Her shoulders dropped a little in disappointment, but she quickly recovered from it and asked, "Is there a witch who can make such a potion? From what I have heard, witches are not to be trusted."

Rohan used his thumb to caress the back of her hand he held in his and he parted his lips to say, "They can’t be trusted indeed, but too bad they can’t cheat me when I can sense if they do something wrong. About your question—if there is a witch who can do that—yes, there is. Many of them can do it. It only takes time to make and drains their energy, which is why they avoid making such a potion. When I find the potion, I will let you know, hmm?" he hummed to have her nod her head.

"Rohan, what if I turned out to be something bad?" she asked him, doubtful of herself and what the outcome might be if he ended up finding this potion one day. As much as she was curious and wanted to know, she wouldn’t want to find out she was something bad, bad enough to make him not want her anymore.

She did not know how she came to be different, especially when her parents were humans who had never shown any signs of being anything else. But it terrified her that she might not like what she would discover about herself.

Though, for some reason, she had not entered the land of the dead again, nor had she been able to read things by touching their surface, she believed it wasn’t entirely over—and those symptoms might resume at any time.

At her question, Rohan’s expression sobered. His brows drew together slightly, and a quiet intensity settled in his gaze. Then, a slow smile pulled at his lips, not of amusement, but of reassurance.

"Are you asking me that because you believe if you turned out to be something bad, I won’t be the same to you, sweetheart?" he asked gently, his voice dipping with warmth and sincerity.

He didn’t wait for her reply as he added, "If that’s the case, then I want you to rest assured, it doesn’t matter to me what you are. You will forever be my little bunny."

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