Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 263: Preparation for Labor_Part 1

However, the sharp taste of the seasoning shattered the emotional moment like a stone cast into still water. Belle nearly spat out the soup, but when she saw Rohan’s hopeful gaze, his eyes narrowed as he waited anxiously for her reaction to his first attempt at cooking, she forced a smile and chewed the lumpy cream that tasted oddly like burnt, spoiled milk.

The soup itself was far too greasy, and when she finally managed to swallow it, a bitter aftertaste clung stubbornly to her tongue, one that no amount of lemonade could seem to wash away.

"Is it that bad?" Rohan asked, noticing how she gulped down the cup of lemonade as if trying to wash something unpleasant from her mouth. But his wife was far too lovely, and too kind, to criticize his cooking. She smiled sweetly and shook her head.

"Not at all. The taste... it’s not bad. Feed me more," she said, opening her mouth for another bite. But in her eyes, he could clearly see the silent dread, the quiet, pleading fear of having to swallow another spoonful of his disastrous soup.

Rohan had been confident he’d gotten it right. He had read the cookbook and followed every instruction in it. He frowned, then spooned the soup and brought it to his own mouth.

His face immediately scrunched up in utter disgust. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath, cursing as he stormed toward the stove. He grabbed the bowl and then the entire pot of soup like they had personally offended him.

Before Belle could even get a word in to stop him, he flung both items out the door. The pot landed with a loud crack! and struck a poor chicken outside, sending feathers flying and causing a chaotic frenzy of clucks and flapping wings.

Unbothered by the panicked squawking or the possibly traumatized hen, Rohan turned on his heel, marched to the basin, and began furiously scrubbing his tongue with water, as if trying to erase the very taste of the soup from existence.

"Fucking hell!" he cursed, wiping his mouth and turning back to his wife to complain. "The person who wrote that cookbook must have shit for brains, because I swear it wasn’t my fault. I followed every instruction and detail to make that soup! I even cooked the chicken exactly to get the broth like it said, and I milked the cow and all that. This isn’t on me, I did—"

Rohan stopped midsentence when he saw how hard Belle was trying to bite back her laughter.

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" he asked with a playful glare.

She quickly shook her head, but the laughter she was holding in broke free. She laughed so hard, tears welled in her eyes. The sound was so contagious, so utterly beautiful, that he found himself laughing with her until his stomach hurt.

They tried to stop, but the moment their eyes met again, another wave of laughter overtook them until he sank to his knees before her. His hands reached up naturally, cupping her cheeks. His thumbs brushed away the lingering tears of laughter, and then gently, slowly, he guided her face down to his.

Their laughter quieted into a soft hush, a sacred pause where only the sound of their breath remained. And then he kissed her.

It was a kiss that held warmth and laughter, apology and promise. His lips brushed hers first like a whisper, then deepened into something fuller, warmer. Her breath hitched in the sweetest way, her mouth parting for him, tasting of sunlight and comfort.

His hands cradled her face as though it were the most delicate thing he’d ever held, thumbs caressing her skin as if memorizing every inch.

Their mouths moved in perfect sync, no rush, no hunger, just tenderness. The kind that melted bones and curled toes. The kind that made the world feel far away, as though they existed in a place where nothing else mattered but this kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, her forehead rested against his, their breaths mingling, the laughter still glowing in their eyes.

"We will live every moment of your dreams in this house, and I will have the time to practice my cooking for you," he said with a smile, his thumb caressing the side of her mouth.

"I think you can leave the cooking to me next time," she breathed, feeling her heart overflowing with warmth and love so strong it was enough to erase the nightmare she had had before this very moment, waking up in this small house that was big enough for her heart.

"I can’t let you do that, not in your condition. If you haven’t noticed yet, it won’t be long before our little brat is out in the world. I’ll have to learn to do more than just cook for my lovely wife."

Belle touched a hand to her stomach, warmth rising to her cheeks. "He was supposed to come early," she said, remembering how she had begged the baby to stay in. "I didn’t want to have him when I don’t know much about childbirth. Do you think I might fall into labor again soon?" she questioned him, and Rohan rubbed his large hand gently against her belly.

"Probably. We have to be well prepared for the next labor. Since you are not a vampire like the late queen, your labor might be more like that of a human’s, without him ripping you apart to get out. Vampire babies are the ones known to always do that, but the vampire blood in him is mild. Your labor will be different," he explained to her, knowing that when that time came... he would have to be prepared to deliver the baby himself. He swallowed at the thought but quickly dismissed it. He would need to educate himself about childbirth before the time arrived.

Rubbing his hand slowly around the firm curve of her stomach, he didn’t forget to thank his son, who moved gently against his palm. "Thank you for being an angel in my absence. You did well for mama by waiting," he murmured. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her stomach, feeling his wife’s fingers slip into his hair just as their unborn child kicked lightly against his lips, and he smiled at the beauty of it all.

Belle stroked Rohan’s hair and ran her fingers lovingly through the dark blue strands as she watched him speak tenderly to their child. She trailed her hand down to his nape and lingered there with a soft caress.

As she watched him at ease, a storm of thoughts tugged at her heart. She bit back the urge to ask how long they had to stay in this house and pretend there was no reality, or whether he had killed the king. But fearing the answer, she told herself not to ask. Not yet. She would live in the moment. Not until the moment ended. Not until it was over. She would enjoy every second.

"Let me get you something else to eat."

He pecked her lips, stared into her eyes, and then, as if he didn’t want to let go, leaned up and hugged her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"I missed you so damn much," he groaned into her hair, stroking her spine, pressing kisses all over her head, and making her giggle.