Under the vampire Lord's protection Chapter 615: Back

"For mother the sky had cried, but not for father," following the briefest pause, he continued, "I do not think it is a coincidence."

His voice grew more recognizable with every word, stirring memories of those cherished days... of the vibrant Arthur who once lifted her spirits while she sobbed in his embrace.

Her heart wasn't the only thing pounding; her eyes nearly bulged as she battled the urge to whirl around and confirm this wasn't just a fleeting illusion. That Arthur had really addressed her!

"I will never have the words to fully express how sorry I am that I failed you when you needed me the most,"

That did it! Those words fueled her to pivot and confront him directly.

"You... You didn’t," her jaw dropped while her head swayed side to side.

"Oh yes! I did! I failed you. I failed mother...," his gaze drifted back to the window.

Arabella darted to block the light from him as tears shimmered in her own eyes, an emotion too profound for her mind to name.

"You said that it rained on mother’s funeral. How did you know?" Each word quivered in her query, "How did you know I donned a veil unless... Unless you...," her expression twisted in confusion and hope.

"I never truly left, Belle," he whispered, eyes still avoiding hers.

Belle?

His special nickname for her all along!

"What do you mean?" Her whole frame shook by now.

"I meant what I said, Belle. I was always nearby... Near enough to sense your suffering but too distant to lift a finger,"

"What do you mean?"

The question repeated, yet her tone had shattered entirely, mirroring her tear-streaked face as emotions flooded free.

"On the night you fled, you wore a deep blue gown," he stayed composed while she teetered on collapse, "I longed to glimpse your face again, but spotted a guard noticing you, ready to raise the alarm... I had only moments and silenced him."

"Arthur?" Her voice cracked like fragile glass.

"’Tis I, yes. No one else but I," his jewel-like eyes finally lifted, meeting hers squarely.

It overwhelmed her completely. No more waiting—she flung herself into his arms, breathing in his scent as if it were her last breath.

Pouring out every tear she held was tempting too, and though costly in emotion, Arthur deserved it fully.

"Will you ever forgive me, Belle?"

But Arabella focused on squeezing him tight, luckily too weak to actually break his bones.

"I am sorry that I just left you alone with him, but I didn’t know whether I could survive on my own, let alone dragging you along with me,"

"Please," amid sobs and pain, she forced out words, "Stop this silliness. You have nothing to be sorry for,"

"Oh, but I do, Belle. I so much do," Arthur buried his chin and nose in her neck, savoring her hair's fragrance, "For days, I tried to speak, but not a letter would leave my throat," his voice muffled against her, vibrating through her body.

"This isn’t a dream!" she wailed, "I am not dreaming! You are speaking to me!"

The door flew open as Silas positioned himself at the entrance, eyes scanning for any threat to Arabella.

Arthur remained steady, rising tall to confront Silas while holding his sister close, her tears far from spent.

"She is safe," Arthur stroked her hair while assuring her spouse.

Finally peeling her face from his chest, she beamed through her tears at Silas, "He speaks," she laughed softly, "he speaks," repeating it.

Silas's tension eased, his grip releasing the doorknob, "I see," he acknowledged with a nod.

"Thank you for taking care of her," Arthur offered a grin as well, "You succeeded where I fell short, and for that, my gratitude endures forever,"

"It was my pleasure," Silas nodded once more, "It still is a pleasure to have her in my life,"

"Yes, she’s always been a blessing to have around," Arthur ruffled her hair again, "But speaking of blessing," he reached into his pocket, "I believe this now belongs to you,"

He drew forth a gold-embellished pendant, crowned by a radiant green emerald in its heart.

"Oh, dear Lord!" Arabella's hands reached out instinctively but hesitated to touch, "Is this...?"

"Mother’s pendant, yes," Arthur grinned, admiring the jewel between his fingers, "That bastard flaunted it after capturing you. He flung it at me in the cell and never reclaimed it, so I held onto it,"

With deliberate care, he extended it toward Arabella's waiting palms and placed it gently there.

"I believe you should put it back where it now belongs," his gaze shifted to Silas.

"Are you sure you do not mind it?" Her voice still quavered.

"Not one bit," he denied with a headshake.

Arabella summoned the strength to step from Arthur toward her husband, fastening the pendant meticulously to his belt once more—just as on their wedding day vows.

"There is one more thing I wish to speak to you about,"

Their focus returned to Arthur.

"Yes, of course!" Arabella hurried back to his side.

"It is about Grace whom you happen to consider as a sister from what I understand," he cleared his throat.

A rush of joyful warmth flooded Arabella, drowning out the remainder of their talk as she simply reveled in her brother's presence.

He was back! Her brother had returned, and he was here for good!