Mariella's voice whined as they stepped out of the portal room, "I am not sure why the hell we had to be here. It's cold and dreary, and why couldn't we be in the Azores?"
Charles, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, responded calmly but coldly, "Not my idea. Take it up with upstairs when you have the time. This way, you have your own wing so you can continue doing what you're doing."
Mariella reeked of sex and sweat, wearing only a wrap-around dress. Similarly, the Salvatores wore shorts, their chests bare, and they emanated a stale odor as well.
"What's with you?" Mariella challenged. "Has your position gone to your head? Worry not; in a few weeks, Damon will make sure he will again be pack leader, and you will be nothing!"
Damon glared at Mariella, retorting, "Stop that, 'Ella. I'm not keen on being pack leader, not yet. Let's go have some fun since we had to come here. We still have a fucking debt, and there's nothing you can say about that, Cornick." He muttered under his breath.
Charles, without a word, simply opened the heavy door, allowing them into their wing. They walked in happily, and the heavy door closed behind them with a thud, effectively sealing them inside. While it could be opened, it wasn't easy, requiring a fingerprint or palm print, which Charles would program. In other words, they were, in essence, prisoners.
He planned to unlock it after two weeks, unless demands arose beforehand. Mimi was already in her shop, preparing to open, and the others had gone to theirs as well. Soon, they would learn more as their schedules for the upcoming holidays would be clear, allowing them to plan what to do with Christmas and such.
Of course, Charles wished to have a pack Christmas, but he knew that wouldn't be possible for years, not until there were babies to come. Oh, how he wanted to see Mariella's expression when it was revealed that she would have to be pregnant for nine months, working as a mental health clerk, and being half Spanish – oh, so freaking perfect.
Charles wasn't too worried about the future. He knew there would surely be challenges ahead, but one thing that held true was his love for Mimi. And he knew he wasn't the only one; Adam, Lepard, and Demon were all in love with Mimi, too, not to mention Wulfe.
He was her everything, and Charles couldn't even bear to think about what would happen if, someday, Wulfe were influenced by something that would cause him to leave Mimi or forget his feelings for her. Thankfully, that wasn't going to happen.
Charles had been acquiring Mimi's care station, new cribs, mats, and various baby-proofing items. His goal was to have ample time to prepare the nursery and make it perfect. He wasn't even sure how many babies Mimi would have.
Frankly, Mariella's brood didn't even cross his mind, despite him being her protector. To him, it was an ultimate cosmic joke, or perhaps an ultimate lesson for Damon: one could be a protector without being a "pussyslave," allowing Mariella to dictate everything.
For Charles, that person would be Mimi. Then again, she was so strong that he wouldn't be surprised if she could overpower him if she wished. Thankfully, he had Wulfe, Adam, and the boys backing him up in case Mimi was ever a little too much for him. He was still the pack leader, and he was not weak—not at all.
However, he was going to be the most perfect husband he could be, meaning warm baths, meals, and pampering for Mimi after she got off work. He was about to show her what being married could be, not what it had been when she was with Damon.
Meanwhile, I was busy setting up and running my flower shop. I had brought in more cut flowers and was busily arranging them into bouquets and attaching price tags. I was also making sure the plants were clean and in their correct places, at least from my perspective.
I wasn't necessarily following all the rules of business when it came to sales and display, but I was setting things up as I wanted. Additionally, I had baked cakes, biscuits, and a few quiches, offering free coffee as an opening treat.
For my attire, I wore jeans and a comfortable satin blouse, along with an apron to protect myself from getting wet while arranging flowers. Charles had dropped me off earlier and promised to return as soon as he was free, after ensuring the mating group was settled in their wing and everything was prepared.
He also needed to go to the bank, where Demon was already inquiring about things and would inform Charles of what was needed, if Charles's presence was required.
Last night, I spent time with everyone who desired me - Colin, Magnum, Alaric, Murdock, Dexter, and even the wizards came. We enjoyed 14 wonderful hours in bed. Regarding our snakes, we now have three retics and one clutch of their eggs, along with all 523 ball pythons, each now numbered.
The clutches were in incubators, and we had a substantial number of them, with approximately 30 more clutches expected soon as the females laid their eggs. Consequently, we had to check them daily, and each clutch perhaps three times a week. However, since someone was almost always home, they would handle it.
With Thanksgiving approaching, everyone was anticipating the holiday, so we needed to finalize meal planning and prepare the dishes. This meant that I, or someone else, would bake and cook according to our plan or individual requests.
My work hours would be from 8 am to 4:30 pm, while the intern girls would work from 7 am to 2 pm. Those working in fast food would have different schedules. Wulfe's hours were mainly from 7:30 am to 5 pm due to his demanding job, but he earned more money and had more days off in return for the extended hours.
I was trying to create attractive bouquets that wouldn't be too expensive, yet wouldn't appear as though I were struggling financially. To better understand what to do, I needed a sense of how much people were willing to spend.
Charles had promised to come by as soon as he was ready; he was also eager to create a few arrangements, as he had his own distinct style, which might be a good thing. Besides, he was a charmer. I was ready to meet with people.
My long, blood-red hair was styled in a thick braid that hung down my back. I wore some makeup, but nothing excessive. My clothes fit well, but didn't make me look like Mariella, who was quite assertive when it came to her femininity. Subtlety is sometimes better than screaming "I am female, look at my body!!" with clothes—not my style.
My shop wasn't the smallest. There was room for sacks of compost and shelves of fertilizers, along with several tables full of plants. It wasn't a huge plant market, but it also wasn't one of those tiny shops with just a few plants and barely any room to move. As one might expect from a flower shop, it was warm and humid, filled with the scent of orchids and a few cut flowers, as I had put a few bouquets on display to showcase them better.
Currently, I have five large red roses in front of me. They smelled wonderful, their deep red hue epitomizing pure love. Next to them were six bright white chrysanthemums, offering a striking contrast and adding some light to the bouquet. I then incorporated some pink baby's breath to add more substance. For accents, I included a few tall, fluffy, brushy grasses dyed black, as well as one white cactus flower dusted with golden flakes, which also had a pleasant, almost cinnamon-like honey scent.
I was playing with vampire colors, though not all of them, as there was no violet in this bouquet. However, I already had a violet and black bouquet completed. I wasn't aiming for safe choices. Of course, I could create them if someone requested, but these were my little whimsical decorations. I was almost finished with this bouquet and was contemplating whether to add something green or simply strap it up and put it on display.
My aim was to offer something new. Considering this was a small town, I wasn't even sure if a flower shop existed in Roseau, or if people simply bought their flowers from grocery stores. This made the prospect a little daunting, but it also presented a unique opportunity. I realized I had a niche here, but it was up to me to make it happen. With this in mind, I developed my plan.
I already possessed a few ornamental pepper plants whose peppers could also be used in food, despite being quite spicy. Moreover, I had a selection of seeds on hand, even though winter was approaching. Herbs, I knew, could be grown year-round with sufficient light, warmth, and water.
To that end, I had a few kits that provided all three: a small pot with a substrate, an inbuilt watering system to which nutrients could be added, and a light source. These were by no means new inventions, having been invented and reinvented for centuries. However, I had several different makes and models, catering to anyone interested in growing their own herbs.
Deciding to leave the bouquet as it was, I put a price tag on it: 35 dollars. It contained five large roses and other embellishments, so I wanted to see if it would sell. As I said, I was just feeling things out. I knew there had been flower shops in the area, but they had closed and relocated to bigger cities.
Some of these shops, staffed by humans, had been unwelcoming to supernaturals, refusing to do business with them. Considering that supernaturals now made up almost 50% or more of the population in Warroad and Roseau, this had been an unwise business decision. Furthermore, not many supernaturals maintained flower shops because the area was so remote and cold, with a growing season of only 90 days, compared to the twice-as-long season in warmer places.
As such, it was not a particularly lucrative business. Surely there was someone in Roseau, I thought, but I couldn't be sure, as I hadn't been there in ages. I had, however, completed a few missions there some time ago, and it was one of those missions that led to me acquiring this house.
I was also preparing Christmas flowers, including hyacinths and amaryllis. While I had a few other varieties growing, they needed a few more weeks to reach their peak. Of course, online shops offered bouquet delivery. However, ordering online felt like a gamble since there was no guarantee the delivered product would match the picture.
In a shop, you can see exactly what you're getting and hand-pick your selections. I was already planning a special occasion offering a limited selection of flowers, a "pick and choose your own bouquet" option. Customers could select, for example, three roses, five stems of greenery, two stems of auxiliary flowers, and five different fillers. They could then have me arrange them into a bunch, or they could arrange it themselves. I estimated this could cost around $50.
I needed more time to develop my business before launching all my ambitious ideas. Besides, my husband Charles, a financial whiz, would likely have opinions on my ideas and pricing. So, I intended to proceed with these prices unless he arrived in the next hour and insisted on changes, as I was opening the shop in 48 minutes. Opening the shop was not as daunting as I'd anticipated. Perhaps it might become boring, difficult, or overwhelming in time, but not yet.
I had saved enough money to support us for a few years, and my benefits would allow me to be a stay-at-home mom when the babies arrived – and I suspected it would be multiples, perhaps even a litter. Reddington had stipulated that we would not have cubs during this time. Thirteen years without cubs seemed possible, but I hoped that Damon wouldn't prioritize having a heat and cub season after this period.
However, with 13 years ahead of us, it wasn't the time to dwell on future events. Time to make one more bouquet. Let's make this one extra bright! Hmm, first, three huge, bright sunflowers. Then, some violet eustomas, and more white, but this time not chrysanthemums, but four huge scented lilies. Some bright greens and cornflowers – oh yeah, this was a really bright one – and a few grass heads dyed gold. Perfect! I tied it up and priced it at $40, given the abundance of flowers.
I wasn't giving them names, but I placed the individually priced materials, roses, and other items inside my display cabinet. This allowed me to easily see when I needed to order more. I also kept a reservation book for customers who needed flowers for a future occasion. They could write down the specifics: what they wanted, when and where they needed them, and their budget.
With less than thirty minutes before I opened the shop, Charles walked in. He came directly to me as I was planning another bouquet, wrapped himself around me, and kissed me passionately for a long time. I kissed him right back. I could feel his need to possess me, to have me as his, and it was clear he wasn't in the mood to share me.
I suspected there might be issues with the Salvatores or Mariella, but we had no worries. We were closer than ever, and my tattoo actually reflected that. There were a few new, clearly recognizable pictures of us in my tattoo, proving that it wasn't just Damon who had images appear on my skin. To be honest, I was glad that Damon's tattoo didn't depict anything about Mariella.
He felt tense, and I sensed his irritation and outright anger towards the Salvatores. I, too, had some issues with them, but the rules had been set, and we had to play by them. Perhaps they would teach the Salvatores some lessons, or perhaps not; it was impossible to know. Sometimes, the lessons I thought would hit them hardest meant nothing to Damon or Mariella, while other times, something I considered a minor issue would almost trigger a crisis.
Only time would tell, and until then, it was up to us to make this work and enjoy it, no matter what those eleven idiots said or did. If his attitude continued as it was, there was no worry about Damon gaining back his position as pack leader, not anytime soon.
This was now a real situation, not just some hobby he could pursue when he felt like it; it demanded commitment. I guessed that once he learned the truth, he might have an idea of the responsibility involved, but would he even want it, despite its offering power over us all, more or less? Was Mariella's 'pussy' and sex his only interest, or could he actually handle the responsibility?
As he finally stopped kissing me, I asked, "Did you miss me, or was it the mating group that set you off?"
He grunted noncommittally, which I took to mean it was the mating group. "C'mon, let me check your bouquets and fix your hair a little," he said, "no need to just use a braid."
I rolled my eyes as he sat me down, undid my braid, and deftly began to pile my hair into a hairdo. It was what it was; the men in my life loved to show off my hair, and Charles especially loved to display my strands, both the black and the blonde ones, so everyone would see them as I had almost hidden them in my braid.
"Too bad the mating group has their attitude problems," I said to him, "but maybe a few weeks of them fucking their brains out in their private wings might help."
"I doubt that," he replied dryly. "Mariella was all over the place, Damon's mind was just her pussy, and the others smelled like they'd spent a month in a brothel in Amsterdam."
It was rare for him to be this upset, but I could understand him; it wasn't nice knowing what we had to do while almost half the pack could have their sex holiday. He finished my hair in fifteen minutes and then swiftly moved to look over my bouquets, taking off the old price tags and putting on higher prices. I knew better than to question him.
With less than ten minutes left, he began to make arrangements of his own, a grand display in one large vase. The base was fifteen yellow roses, white alstroemerias, as well as pink orchids, green fillers, some button flowers, and violets.
"Go on, honey," he grunted to me, "open the doors. I'll be done here soon."
I smiled and said, "Oh, you just have to show off, too?"
He glanced at me, smiled, making my heart flutter. I took off my apron and went to open the doors of my shop. It was time to do this.