Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 98

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Chapter 98: Kiss me_Part 2

Rohan heard her question and saw the uncertainty in her clear, wide hazel eyes—eyes he didn’t dare focus his own gaze on.

For a human who had been forced into being a people-pleaser and a timid woman unable to voice her thoughts, she was beginning to show her true self now that she was away from those who had shaped her into that.

But though Rohan knew as much—that she wasn’t normal and was different, even from the moment he had met her years ago—he could not put a finger on it and say exactly what she was.

It had baffled him then, and it baffled him still now. He had spent time studying books, searching for anything that might explain her, but there seemed to be no history, no record that spoke of a special human who could not be compelled, or who could see what only the dead could.

Only the dead couldn’t be compelled. Only the dead could see Kuhn. And only the dead could walk the land she had slipped into last night. Whatever she was, it had something to do with that—but he was certain she was no dead person, despite what he sensed she was starting to believe. She smelled human, looked human, and had the heart of a human, only with a rhythm that beat a little differently.

Not good with words when it came to comforting someone in emotional distress and self-doubt, Rohan sighed and leaned closer to her.

Reaching up, he gently and meticulously moved the disheveled strands of blonde hair that had fallen across her face, tucking them behind her ear. All the while, he watched her lashes flutter at his touch, her heartbeat quickening beneath his fingers.

He dragged his gloved finger toward the scar in her brow, tracing the smooth, leathery skin, then down her flushed cheek, cupping it carefully and stroking with his thumb.

"You are different, Isa," he said softly, "but not in a bad way. Everyone has something that sets them apart from others, and one can choose to see that difference as a curse or as the gift that it truly is. Look at me." He withdrew his hand from her face and opened his arms slightly.

"I am different too, but I embraced it. I don’t hate what I am, and I don’t wish to be different. In fact, if I had been anything other than what I am, I don’t think I would enjoy my life nearly as much as I do now. I worry about no fucker, no words affect me, and I like myself just the way I am—because I accepted it. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

He arched a brow, noticing how she was staring at him with those wide, innocent eyes, and at his question, she slowly shook her head. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

Belle did not get his point. She did not see how accepting this would make her life any better. She did not want to ever be thrust into that world again, and if she had the choice, she would have preferred to be normal like everyone else, rather than different.

Not knowing what she was—or if it was even true she had been possessed in her childhood—was not something she thought she could embrace, much less be happy about.

Still, she would admit, she liked seeing this side of Rohan—the side where he seemed at a loss for the right words to make her understand.

"Listen to me, Isa. So what if you’re different?" He scowled for a moment and then chuckled as if a thought had just come to his mind and he spoke them out, "You can slip into the land of the dead. That’s bloody impressive if you ask me. If I could do that..." he smirked, "...I’d probably go back and kill someone twice."

He gave a short laugh, "But," his voice softened, serious now, "I wouldn’t want you anywhere near that place again. Not if we can help it." He then sighed,

"And my point is, don’t beat yourself up for it. If you can’t embrace it, then don’t, but don’t cry over spilled milk. Don’t fright about what some fuckers would think about you or call you, no one will touch my wife while I still live, not even those fuckers you call parents. If no one accepts you for who you are, fuck them all."

Rohan had never tried to make anyone feel better and this was his very first attempt ever, he was a master at doing the opposite, he had always excelled in making people feel the worst of themselves and make them miserable, he had enjoyed seeing the misery of others but he knew even without seeing hers, that he wouldn’t find it amusing.

Blinking, Belle finally spoke. "You use that word a lot, what does it mean?" came her quiet question, unable to believe that his ways of trying to make her feel better and not dwell on the thought of her difference and what she was had actually worked for now as she had been diverted to something else.

In fact, she was biting back a smile as she watched him. She had known he was different from his kind, and it was actually surprising that he embraced and liked himself and did not dwell on self-pity.