Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 311

Chapter 311: Aragonia_Part 1

"...Are you all right?" he asked her, repeating the question for the fifth time.

Rohan looked at her with concern, noticing the confusion in her eyes. Slowly, she nodded her head, and then almost hesitantly, she leaned forward, resting her head against his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

"Hold me a little," her voice was small, almost broken, and he gladly held her, wrapping strong arms around her trembling body, trying to calm not only her but his own frantic heartbeat. She had been sleeping peacefully against him until he noticed something disturbingly wrong with her breathing and her heartbeat, and then he had seen those dreadful-looking dark patches spreading across her skin and smelled the faint stench of burning flesh.

Without thinking, Rohan had tried to wake her, but nothing he did seemed to make her open her eyes. He had shaken her so hard that for a moment he thought he might break her fragile body, until finally she gasped awake and then stared into space as though she wasn’t seeing him at all.

When she hadn’t responded earlier, his first thought had been that she had crossed into the land of the dead again and that something was happening there beyond his reach. Panic had gripped his heart so violently that for the first time in a long while, he had felt that helplessness again. Now, as she clung to him tightly, he clung to her just as tightly, his body going weak and limp with sheer relief.

He silently stroked her hair, running his hand down the length of her spine and back up again, threading his fingers into her soft strands where he had removed her pins the night before and placed them aside so she could rest comfortably. He massaged her scalp with a gentleness he reserved only for her, soothing her with every stroke.

He let her calm down for a long while, listening to her breathing steady against him, before parting his lips and asking, "What happened?" His voice was soft, patient, never urging her or forcing her to speak immediately, even though inside he was dying to know what nightmare had returned those dark patches to her skin, only to vanish again the moment she woke.

She was silent for a while, as if gathering her thoughts, before she finally spoke. "Another nightmare... a life that doesn’t belong to me. A mother who isn’t even the one I know now. And this strange, overwhelming feeling of wanting to kill, to avenge something horrible that was done to me. I don’t understand why I keep having dreams about this Isabelle Dawson. Who is she? And why does she carry my name and my face? This time I saw it clearly in the mirror, she had my face, but more youthful. It feels so real, as though it is my life and I am living it... Who is she, Rohan? I don’t understand anymore," she whispered against his chest, her arms tightening around him, her hazel eyes prickling with tears, her heart still heavy with a rage so deep she didn’t know what to do with it, because it wasn’t hers to bear.

"It’s such a terrifying feeling, Rohan. I don’t want it. I want to be normal, with nothing abnormal haunting me. Is it so much to ask for? I don’t know what connection binds me to this Isabelle, but I don’t want her pain, and I don’t want her rage..." Her voice cracked, and she sniffed as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

Rohan’s hand moved from her hair to her shoulders, gently pushing her back just enough so he could look into her face. She looked up at him through blurred vision, her tears clinging to her lashes, and saw the grimness in his dark eyes. Yet his touch remained gentle as he cupped her face, wiping away her tears before murmuring, "What exactly did you see in this nightmare? And what did you feel?"

Belle blinked away more tears, took a deep breath, and began to recount everything she had witnessed. As she spoke, she could see in his expression that he too disliked where this was leading.

"Deven," Rohan muttered grimly when she finished. "Is he the same man with the face of Jamie Marchant?" he asked.

"Yes, he carries the same surname, Deven Marchant. He’s the son of the Marquis. Do you think they were real people? People who truly existed?" she asked quietly, her voice filed with confusion, unable to comprehend how this Deven could be connected to Jamie, or how Isabelle could be tied to her.

From what she remembered, Jamie did not come from a wealthy family or hold any noble name. He was just an ordinary man with nothing to his name but his little shop. Could it be that there was more to his history, something he had not thought fit to tell her about himself? That could only be possible if this Deven was truly a real person from the past.

"I will find out," Rohan assured, pulling her back against his chest protectively. If it turned out that Deven Marchant had truly existed, then these visions she was having weren’t mere dreams, they were fragments of something real, something that had happened before. Was it a past life echoing into her present? Or was it a truth tied to her very bloodline?

Rohan did not like this. He had never liked the first Marchant, and now, to have another one haunting her sleep, it filled him with deep unease.

"Try not to think too much about it. Once we are settled in Aragonia, I will see what I can find out," Rohan assured his wife when he noticed she was lost in thought.

Though Belle insisted she wasn’t too tired to continue, Rohan ordered a stop at an inn in the village. They took their time to freshen up and eat there, though the food was as bland as the inn itself. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

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