Chapter 436: Another chance
"Why him? How did Rohan mess with his fate?" Belle asked, knowing she could never be able to take Rav’s life. No, she wouldn’t. She would take anyone’s life but his...
"He wasn’t supposed to live until now. He was supposed to die on the day the rogues attacked his village."
Belle’s brows drew together. "How come? Rohan caused that attack. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around, where he’s not supposed to die?" she almost shouted, then collected herself, knowing she was begging for mercy here.
"That’s not how it is. Those rogues were destined to attack that town. The only thing Rohan Dagon did was make it happen faster than it should. Christian Hathaway’s destiny was to die with his family, but Rohan Dagon interfered by saving his life and prolonging it. You are to fix it because you were the reaper destined to take his soul until you messed with time."
Belle couldn’t believe this. She couldn’t imagine herself taking Rav’s life when he had just set out to start a new one with Evenly. How could she do that? But then... how couldn’t she when it concerned her family?
"What happens when I fail to bring back any of the souls?" she asked.
"Then you shall face the punishment you ran away from," the Elder said simply.
She would stop existing without a soul. And then what about her son and husband? But the thought of taking the soul of someone she had come to see as family...
"You should know that Christian Hathaway is already dying slowly, and if you fail to take his soul, you will be prolonging his misery. Look at him."
Belle raised her head to see the vision of Rav standing in a corner, coughing out black blood and gasping for breath as he clasped a hand to his chest. "His heart has been corrupted, and if the time comes and you don’t take him, he will kill innocent people and further ruin others’ fate."
Belle blinked in disbelief at Rav’s image. He was dying already? Was that the vision she had seen that day? That realization did nothing to make her feel any better about taking his soul. It made her feel even sicker in her stomach at the thought of losing him.
"Can I keep my human form along with my reaper form?" Belle finally brought herself to ask in a small voice.
"You don’t have a reaper form anymore. You can only do it in your human form."
Belle’s eyes widened. That was impossible! As much as she would be happy to keep her human form without having a reaper form, her human form had no ability to disappear and reappear on time to take a soul. It would not only slow her down, but there was a big chance of failing this mission given to her to fix what she had ruined.
As if reading her mind, the Elder continued to speak, "You discarded your reaper form when you played with time. You can only get your scythe. But know this, if you go back in this form and let yourself die in the mortal world before you finish, it will be the end of you, and your punishment will naturally take effect and wipe you away."
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Five days had gone by now, and Rohan didn’t let the white witch rest for even a second as he stood and hovered after giving out one clear command, "Bring her back to life, or you will die first before everyone else." He had said the words with nonchalance, but beneath that calmness, a storm was brewing as each day passed without a flicker of life in Belle’s body.
The only thing that kept him hopeful was the fact that she wasn’t decaying anymore, and the flicking skin like ash had stopped, slowly restoring itself. Nonetheless, she wasn’t breathing, nor was her heart beating.
Rohan didn’t leave that room. He didn’t take blood or eat. He didn’t even step out for a second, not when his son had woken up that morning and gone to kneel beside his mother, crying. The only thing Rohan did was hurl his son up, thrust him back onto the chair, and warn with a strict, unshakable voice,
"Don’t touch her, and stay right there until she wakes up."
After that, Rohan was no longer in the right state of mind to check what happened to his son or see how he was coping with his mother in that state. The door to the drawing room had been locked, and the witch kept trying to the point of exhaustion to wake someone who was already dead.
Rohan forced himself into unfeeling in those days, because if he allowed himself to feel the emotions and fears brewing beneath the surface, he would break down, not in the way normal people broke down. The only thing he allowed himself to feel and hold on to was hope, and the promise of his woman.
’I won’t leave you.’
She had promised, and she wouldn’t dare. Don’t you dare, do you hear me, Isa? Don’t even think about it. You promised, and you have to stick with it. You have to, because this heart of mine has clung to it and held on. You can’t leave it hanging, or everything else will go down the drain.
Rohan kept pacing the room as he always did, absent from everything else but the white body lying in the circle of candles. Looking at her in that state was harder than those moments he’d been locked in the dark, forced to stay without blood. It was harder than the torture of the madhouse and the betrayal of his own mother.
It was on the sixth day, when Rohan was on the brink of real madness scattering things in the drawing room and yanking at his hair so fiercely it almost looked like it would rip out of his scalp, that the exhausted witch, who had grown so thin and dull from a week of trying to work a miracle, yelled out weakly,
"She’s gaining color, she’s coming awake!" the woman cried out in utter relief. So weak from it all, she passed out behind the circle of spell and candles.
Rohan’s head shot in that direction with so much speed he almost lost his balance. He stopped short at the sight of the color rising into Belle’s body. Little by little, the sound of her heartbeat and breathing reached him, and he began to walk toward her, unable to tear his eyes away from her face where her lashes trembled.
Rohan’s long legs crossed over the unconscious body of the witch, stepped over the candles, and then went down on his knees. He gently lifted Belle’s head onto his lap, cradling it carefully while brushing away strands of tangled blonde hair from eyes that slowly opened, glistening with tears.
Rohan’s lips quivered for the first time in his life from holding back tears of relief, and he stared into those glossy hazel eyes that locked with his. They didn’t speak a word. They simply looked at each other.
Their eyes carried far more emotions and words than any real words ever could.
"You gave me a fright again," Rohan choked out through a throat too thick with emotion, his fingers caressing her cheek and stroking her hair back like one would do to a precious, delicate child. "It’s becoming a habit of yours to scare me this way. And you’re becoming so good at it, love. My heart... it can’t always take this. Feel it."
He took her hand from her side and brought it up to his chest where his heart was beating wildly, as if it might rip out of his chest.
"This heart only beats fast for you, and when you give me a fright, it goes wild. If you give me another fright..." He trailed off shakily, staring at the tear that rolled from beneath her spiky lashes and down her rosy cheek. Unable to hold back the tears stinging his eyes like pins behind his lids, he let them fall. A rough sound escaped him, a groan soaked in relief, and then he bent his head, kissing away her tears and pressing desperate kisses over every part of her face as he spoke between them,
"Damn you, damn you, Isa. Don’t you ever do this to me again." He kissed her cheeks. Her chin. "Do you hear me?" He kissed her forehead and then her lips, crushing his against hers and letting all his emotions pour out in that kiss. Tears, unlike any he had ever shed, streamed down his face like a dam had been broken.
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.