MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Chapter 437 Strangers in a familiar place

The portal between worlds shimmered like oil on water, distorting reality as Blake stepped through. His body was still raw, still healing, but in his hand, he clutched Rose's soul-crystal, its gentle glow illuminating his gaunt face while his other hand, he held Rose above his shoulder.

The familiar world collapsed behind him, sealing itself shut with a sound like tearing silk.

And then—silence.

Just the wind through trees. The scent of pine and soil. The steady drip of morning dew.

Home.

Their cabin stood just as they had left it, nestled among towering pines at the edge of the clearing. Smoke-stained windows. Weathered logs. The porch swing Blake had built when they first moved in, creaking gently in the breeze.

But something was... off.

Blake's eyes narrowed as he scanned the tree line. The pines were taller, thicker. The undergrowth had changed, reclaiming parts of the path that had once been clear. Nature had encroached, as if no one had been here to push it back.

"Reggie?" Blake called out, his voice still raw from the battle. "Randal?"

No answer.

"Dumphries, you old bastard! Where are you?"

Only the wind replied, rustling through leaves that should not have grown so thick.

Blake looked down at the soul-crystal in his palm. "Almost there, Rose," he whispered. "Almost home."

He approached the cabin cautiously, each step measured, his senses—dulled from the battle but still far sharper than any human's—stretched to their limits. No heartbeats inside. No scent of blood or life.

The door creaked open at his touch, unlocked. That wasn't right. Reggie was paranoid about security, always had been.

Inside, a thin layer of dust covered everything. Not the thick blanket of years of neglect, but enough to suggest weeks of absence. The furniture was where it should be. Blake's bottle of premium O-negative still sat half-empty on the coffee table. Rose's favorite shawl was draped over the back of the rocking chair.

It looked like they had just stepped out. Just... not recently.

"Reggie? Randal?" Blake called again, knowing now he wouldn't get an answer.

He moved to the bedroom, where he laid Rose's body.

Rose's body lay on their bed. Pale skin like porcelain. Dark hair spread across the pillow like spilled ink. Her expression peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping.

Blake took a step back only to approach slowly, almost reverently, the soul-crystal pulsing brighter with each step closer to her body.

"I got you back," he whispered, sitting beside her still form. "Just like I promised."

He placed the crystal on her chest, directly over where her heart should beat. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the crystal began to sink, melting into her like ice into warm water. A soft glow spread throughout her body, visible beneath her skin—her veins and arteries illuminated from within, a network of light replacing the blood that had long ago gone still.

Blake held his breath.

Rose gasped, her back arching as her soul reconnected with her body. Her eyes flew open—pure white light at first, then slowly fading to their familiar amber.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

"Blake?" Her voice was hoarse from disuse.

"I'm here," he said, taking her hand. "I'm right here."

Rose sat up slowly, looking around with confusion. "Nemisis—"

"Is gone." Blake squeezed her hand. "I destroyed it. Well, most of it. Enough that it won't be bothering anyone for a very long time."

"I know." She leaned into his touch. "That's why it let me go, I think. It knew you would never stop."

Blake pulled her close, kissing her properly for the first time since her return. Her lips were cool at first, then warmed against his. When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers.

"We should clean this place up," he said. "Make it ours again."

Rose nodded, looking around at the kitchen, at the evidence of violence. "Yes. I want to erase all trace of that... thing... from our home."

They worked together, moving with the synchronized efficiency of a couple who had shared space for decades. Rose swept up broken dishes while Blake wiped dried blood from the cabinets. They straightened furniture, dusted surfaces, opened windows to let fresh air cleanse the mustiness.

As Blake reached to adjust a crooked picture frame, he noticed something on the wall behind it—a calendar. He pulled it closer, frowning at the date.

September 2019.

The last time he had checked, before entering the spirit world, it had been April 2014.

Five years.

They had lost five years.

The bottle in Rose's hand slipped, shattering on the floor. She had seen the calendar too.

"Blake?" Her voice was barely audible.

He turned to her, the calendar still in his hand. "It's not possible," he said, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was. The taller trees. The changed undergrowth. The absence of their friends.

Five years.

"Celena," Rose whispered, her eyes wide with horror. "She was just two when... she'd be..." Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

"Seven," Blake finished for her. "She Seven now."

Rose's hands began to shake. "Five years of her life. We missed five years of our daughter's life."

Blake crossed the room, crushing the calendar in his fist as he pulled Rose into his arms. "She's still our daughter," he said fiercely. "We're still her parents."

"She'll be so different," Rose said into his chest. "She'll have changed so much."

"So have we," Blake replied. "But we're still us. And she's still her."

Rose pulled back, looking up at him with eyes suddenly burning with determination. "We're going to the city tonight," she said. It wasn't a question.

Blake nodded. There was no point arguing. "Tonight," he agreed.

They stood together in their cabin, strangers in a familiar place, preparing to face a world that had moved on without them. A world where their daughter had grown five years without her parents.

The sun was setting outside, painting the forest in shades of gold and red.

Night was coming.

Their time.

"Together," Blake said, taking Rose's hand.

"Together," she echoed, squeezing his fingers.

They would face whatever waited for them in the city—whatever changes, whatever challenges—as they had faced everything else.

Together.

Even if the world they were returning to wasn't the one they had left behind.