Married To The Mad Vampire Lord-Chapter 52: Fever

She was burning and yet shivering in cold, that was all Belle knew as she wanted the cold and heat to stop. She longed for the comfort of her own body again, but that comfort was lost the moment she fell into the quicksand earth in her dream.

She had woken up with chills that made her unable to move or open her eyes. She had wanted to wake up early and take her bath herself before Farrah would come, but that had been impossible because she had felt chilled, and her throat had been so dry that she had been coughing.

Belle could not recall the last time she had been this sick. She had a strong body, rarely experiencing fevers—only a little cold that did not go further than a cough and a blocked nose. The last time she had been this sick was when she was still a little girl, and her mama had not stopped treating her like her daughter.

Belle could hear voices in the chamber but she couldn’t make out or recognize who it belonged to in her state of mind. She was barely conscious through her fever but then she was faintly aware of someone lifting her off the bed and putting her into a cold bath that made her gasp and clutch to the person’s hand.

She didn’t like to be bathed by maids and whoever was washing her in the cold bath right now was touching her in places she would not have allowed had her body been in control, but she was too weak and hot from the inside to fight the person who was now pouring cold water over her breast and rubbing it, causing her to moan in protest and want to open her eyes, but she was too delirious to do any of what she wanted to do.

"Be still..." She heard the voice that sounded distant as she tried to move. She could barely tell whose voice it was, but she knew it belonged to the person washing her in the bath. She felt the person’s hands in her hair as they washed it gently and poured water over it that made her gasp as it was cold and yet soothing.

"Cold..." She managed to say with a moan. She was cold, but this person’s touch was making her strangely feel warm from the inside. How could a maid touch her like this? She did not like that the maid seemed to be taking liberties with her body because she couldn’t manage to even open her eyes and voice out her discomfort to stop her.

Perhaps she might have passed out at some point, but when she became aware of herself again, she was no longer in the bath but on a soft surface that was obviously her bed, and she was clothed in silk, and someone was hovering over her using a spoon to probe her lips as if wanting her to open her mouth.

Belle opened her eyes, but she couldn’t make out the clear image of the person, thus she closed her eyes to let the sleep threatening to pull her into its oblivious embrace take her, but the person’s probing made it impossible.

"Be a good girl and open up." She heard the voice as the person supported her head, but she moved her head to the side to avoid whatever was being posed in front of her mouth.

She just wanted to sleep, she did not want to take anything as she could feel she would throw it up. She was no longer shivering, but her body was so weak she didn’t want to move. Sleep... I want to sleep, she wanted to say to the person, but it was like her mouth was no longer in her control, none of her muscles seemed to belong to her anymore.

She could hear faint voices in the background, but she couldn’t make out who was who or what they were even saying, and everything began to overwhelm her. She did not realize she was crying until she felt a hand wipe at her cheeks.

"She needs to take...medi...the fever...cause of it..." The words were blurring and coming back, but she could tell the person who was supporting her head was being so gentle as they kept wiping her cheeks and probing her with the spoon, which she did not want to open her mouth to take in. As the hand brushed her hair, it reminded her of a time she was sick in her childhood and her mother had stayed by her bedside and took care of her.

She had always missed those days later when they stopped attending to her, there were nights she would cry herself to sleep remembering what those days felt like, but they always felt distant. But right at this moment, where she could tell she was being held by this person and being stroked, she recalled vividly what it felt like to be cared for and looked after, and that brought her to more tears as she snuggled closer to the person’s arms.

"She’s... taking the medicine...use... method to make her have it." What was the person saying? Belle wondered as she couldn’t hear clearly or keep conscious for so long. She wanted to sleep, but when she began to drift off to that sleep that was pulling her in, she felt something warm cover her mouth that made her frown and want to move her head. What was this? She wondered in her disoriented state of mind.

The warm thing that touched her mouth was unfamiliar yet strangely familiar. It pressed gently against her lips, parting them ever so slightly, and before she could comprehend what was happening, something wet and warm slipped inside. A liquid, bitter and thick, flowed onto her tongue, making her want to recoil, but the firm presence against her lips prevented her from pulling away.

The sensation against her mouth was strange, soft and alive. It wasn’t just warmth; it moved. Something slick and warm brushed against her tongue, fleeting but undeniable, a strange, silken friction that sent a shiver through her fevered body. It lingered only for a second before retreating, yet just as she thought it was over, that same heat swept across her lips, licking the side of her mouth gently. What was that?

She wanted to understand, to make sense of what was happening, but her mind was too clouded. All she knew was that something had touched her—something that fed her the bitter medicine and then stole the last of its taste with a lingering stroke before vanishing into the haze of her fevered consciousness.

Belle fell into the deep sleep. She was faintly aware of waking up every now and then and being fed, and when she began to shiver, something warm would pull her into its embrace that would make her sleep again. She began to feel better and sleep without waking up with chills again.

She didn’t know for how long she had been sick, but when she finally opened her eyes, she was glad that she could see much more clearly and her head and mind were less hazy.

She blinked away the fogginess in her eyes and saw the familiar drapes of her bedchamber where there was barely light in the surrounding. She was laying facing the ceiling, and not yet wanting to make sense of everything that had happened to her so far, she decided to change position and rest more, but when she turned on her side, she stilled and her breath hitched in her throat.

She quickly pushed herself into a sitting position and pulled the blanket to her chin. She wasn’t alone on the bed! Belle thought in panicked disbelief. Right beside her on the bed was her husband, who was sleeping!

The first thing that came to her mind was to peek down into the sheet to see if her clothes were intact, and she did that, and her tense shoulders immediately loosened when she saw that her nightdress was completely intact and that her neck had not been pierced by him in any way. He did not bite her nor bed her, she sighed in relief. She felt no other discomfort apart from the little feverish feeling that still lingered.

Assured that he had not crossed the line and taken advantage of her in her mindless state, Belle allowed herself to look back at him again. What was he doing on her bed? She wondered to herself as she noticed the details she had failed to notice a moment ago or when his eyes were opened.

Instead of lying neatly on his back with his arms folded over his chest in a corpselike position like every human believed vampires sleep, her husband was sprawled on his stomach among the maroon silk sheets of her bed. The sleek sheet had ridden dangerously low on his lean hips, exposing the sculpted planes of his back and...oh Lord!

Belle gasped in shock as her hand flew to cover her mouth at the sight before her eyes. How was this possible? She wondered as she stared at the deep dark scars that marred his sculpted back and shoulders. She’d heard vampires have fast healing abilities and that they could heal so fast without leaving any scars behind; if that was true, why was his back covered with such scars?

They were angry lines that looked deep even after they had seemed to heal, especially the two lines that stood out on either side of his lower shoulder. Even though he was shirtless, his gloves were still intact on his hands, which were bent on his pillow in a way that made his muscular arms bigger and the veins underneath the taut skin more prominent against his smooth, honey-bronze skin that glistened. He was a sight to behold in such position, a handsome devil right next to her sleeping like a mortal.

But what caught her attention the most was his scarred back.