Chapter 437: "You were Astral?"_Part 1
He tore his mouth away and pulled her into a fierce embrace, crushing her against him as he held her tightly and rocked her in his arms.
"I’m sorry..." Belle finally found her voice and whispered into his ear, hugging him back just as tightly as he held her.
"I have never been this scared in all my life," Rohan groaned against her neck, his tears soaking into her dress. "I have never felt a bone-chilling fear. Damn it all to hell, I can lose anything else but you. The world is dark without you in it. Nothing matters or makes sense..." He tightened his hold, letting his trembling body be assured that she was awake and back right where she belonged, in his arms. That he had nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all, as long as she was here.
They held each other for so long that neither of them wanted to let go, letting the feeling wrap around them while thunder rolled and rain poured outside the castle, drumming against the roof and beating at the windows.
They were completely unaware of the little feet that pattered toward them until a trembling voice called out, "Mama..."
Belle pulled back from her husband’s embrace to look toward the voice, and her heart fell at the sight of their son. Angel had not only grown a head taller but looked so much thinner, his chubby adorableness gone. He was still wearing the same sleeping attire from the night the ritual began, stained with dried blood at the sleeves, his hair a tangled mess on his head like they hadn’t seen a comb in forever.
Belle knew without being told that Rohan had neglected him unintentionally because of her, and the thought of it wrenched her heart. Rohan turned to look at his son, and as if finally realizing what he had done wrong, remorse consumed him and he fell silent.
Belle opened her arms to the little boy. "Come here, darling."
Angel trotted toward her, climbed into her arms, and wrapped his small arms around her neck, burying his face against her. Belle didn’t realize he was crying until she felt the wetness of his tears on her skin, and her arms instinctively tightened around his small body.
"I’m sorry, Angel. So sorry," she whispered, running her hand up and down his back as his small shoulders began to shake with sobs.
"Mama... no pudd-in, no blood. Bite..." he said through his sobs, his words, already unclear at his young age, becoming even more broken. But Belle understood, and she tilted his tear-streaked face up to hers.
"Show me where?" she asked, her body weak and exhausted, but she didn’t care. She needed to make sure the two people who depended on her were okay. "Where did you bite yourself to take blood?" She stroked his cheeks as he lifted his small arm.
"Dere, Mama..." he pointed to his right forearm with his left index finger, his lips trembling as he tried to explain, his hands moving clumsily to help her understand his meaning.
Angel hadn’t been fed because Rohan had locked the door, allowing no one in or out, forcing the witch to bring Belle back. He had not only neglected himself but also their son, who hadn’t been fed and had resorted to biting himself for blood.
As much as it would have been easy to blame Rohan for not being there for his son, Belle didn’t. Rohan had grown up without the love or care of a father or mother, and yet because he loved her, he had done his best to be a great father to their son, even without any example to follow. He was always there for Angel. He loved him. But without her, there was no way to hold him together. She was the string keeping them bound; without her, the rope would break and relationship would fall apart.
Belle had been unconscious for days, though to her, it had felt like only a few hours because of the difference in time between the worlds. These two had gone through a worse hell than she had. She turned and saw her husband staring at their son, his eyes heavy with remorse and shame for not being there when their boy needed him most.
Angel’s tiny hands gripped the neckline of her dress as he looked into her eyes, tears clinging to his lashes.
"Papa... no wan An-jo... An-jo bad?" he asked in a trembling voice, his young eyes full of painful doubt. Belle understood his broken words and shook her head firmly.
"It’s not true. Your papa wants you. And you, my Angel, are not bad. Right, Rohan?" she said, turning to her husband.
Rohan, who had been silently staring in shame, blinked back tears when he heard his name. He turned to Belle and nodded.
"I want you. You are not bad," he said, reaching toward the boy.
But Angel fell against his mother, burying his head against her chest to avoid him.
"Papa, no An-jo pudd-in. Papa, no wan An-jo here wav Mama..." Angel whispered softly.
"You want pudding? I’ll make it for you myself," Rohan said, trying to make up for what he’d done. Then, as if truly realizing Belle had just regained consciousness after days of lying between life and death, he stood to his feet and gathered both of them into his arms as though they weighed nothing, Belle holding their still-sad son while he held them both close.
The moment they opened the door, Evenly was pacing outside the drawing room. Every day she had come here, but she had been refused entrance, and the door had remained locked from within.
She hurried to them but Rohan told her to help him get blood for Angel and to tell Rav to heat bathing water for Belle.
At the mention of Rav, Belle stiffened but concealed it by hugging her son tightly. At this moment, she didn’t want to think about what she had to do or would have to do in the future. She needed to settle down first and think before the emotions of her quest settle on her.
Belle bathed with the help of Rohan after he had fed Angel blood until the boy couldn’t take any more and turned away without a word, still upset at his father.
When Rohan finished taking care of his wife and helped her into a robe, Belle pushed him to bathe as well and returned the favor by helping him wash like he had done for her, massaging his taut muscles and earning a satisfying groan from him.
Occasionally, he would take her hand, bring it to his face, kiss her fingers, and then simply hold it there, breathing her in.
After that, they bathed their son together. Angel was unusually quiet. He was never quiet during his bath; he always played with the water and foam. Now his head hung low as his father washed his arm and his mother rinsed it with water.
"What’s wrong, Angel?" Belle asked softly.
Angel raised his head to look at her. "An-jo bad wen tawk. No tawk. Papa tay no thoun or..." He used his hand to make a hitting motion.
Belle turned to look at her husband. Rohan massaged his forehead and said guiltily, "I yelled at him at some point not to make a sound and to remain as silent as a mouse if he didn’t want me to spank him. He was crying, but I swear I didn’t mean those words, I..."
Rohan cursed under his breath and got to his feet, knowing he had made a mess of being a father without his wife there again.