I glanced at Mariella and Number Two. We were in the gym, and I had planned my lesson to be in three parts. Unlike Damon, this wouldn't be some brutal session leaving her broken and in pain. She would feel it, certainly, but it wouldn't be too harsh. I wasn't going to be the only one giving my opinion of her.
However, the last part of my lesson made me a little wary, though it might have the biggest impact. I wasn't sure if I was setting myself up for her to interfere, but I also needed to show Number Five that I trusted him, as well as our love; it was important to us both.
As pack leader, even temporarily, I had the power to try and push pack members in the right direction, and who knows, maybe, in the long run, Mariella would actually get this lesson. Right now, she was too self-centered, trying to be a martyr or a victim, for it to have an immediate impact, but the memory would stay with her.
Wulfe would make sure of it; he was crafting a spell to prevent any Salvatore from erasing my lesson from her mind. Wulfe was my secret, or not-so-secret, weapon, and he took pretty big liberties as I had planned my lesson, so in a way, this wasn't just a lesson from me, but from us.
Wulfe was protecting me, always and foremost. He was always looking after me, making sure I wasn't going to get too banged up emotionally, at least. His love for me flooded me like a river constantly, and I gave him a big part of myself, too.
"Now, this is really simple," I began, turning to Mariella. "You face me, full force, hands-on-hands fight, five minutes, three times, with ten minutes in between each round to recover. No spells, just physiology. It's not too hard for you, is it now, Princess?" I tilted my head as I asked.
She was wearing a top that revealed her slightly soft midsection, with no piercings visible. Her breasts seemed bigger and a little more jiggly, possibly from being a little overfed, but then again, she was pregnant, and that might be it, as my breasts had been growing too, not too much, but enough to irritate me.
My lean, tight body was dressed in similar attire: a tank top that left my still-toned midsection bare, tights that showcased my slender yet powerful build, and my hair in a thick braid. Mariella's jeans looked small, stiff; her hair piled high on her head in a fancy updo. Number Two, of course, had put makeup on her, but I hadn't bothered; I wasn't here to seduce anyone with false promises; I was here to teach a lesson.
Mariella sneered, "Oh, Mimi, I can take you on easily. Five minutes and you'll be under me begging for mercy. When I win, I become the pack leader and give it to Number Two. Let's see how you're going to work in your little shop then!"
I rolled my eyes.
Lepard said patiently, "Sorry, dollface, this isn't that kind of fight. Leadership takes a little more than five minutes, three times over. And sure, let's see what your pudgy, soft body can do against that lean, mean machine."
He quirked a brow toward me as he glanced in my direction. The boys were sporting t-shirts and loose pants, ready to take on Number Two under the same rules: five minutes full force, followed by a ten-minute pause. I walked opposite Mariella and nodded. Wulfe flicked his fingers, and a large counter appeared on the wall, displaying five minutes. Another nod, and the time started to count down.
I attacked, fast and mercilessly. Mariella barely had time to react as I walloped her across the face, kicked her in the belly, and jabbed her in the kidneys. She was getting the gist and started attacking me, trying to get some hits in while evading my strikes. I could hear grunts and thuds from the men, but that wasn't important now; my attack was.
I was hitting with my full force, like I said, no pussyfooting, and I was really letting myself go. It felt so damn good to beat the shit out of her and force her to defend herself or try to land a hit on me. I could feel that she actually managed to land a few kicks on me; well, I had been one of her coaches for a long time, so it took time for her to get into the roll.
Then the buzzer went off. The first five minutes were over, and I took a few steps back. Mariella leaned over, hands on her thighs. I noticed Number Two had a bloody nose, a ripped shirt, and a pissed-off expression. The counter now showed a ten-minute pause.
"Fuck, that was intense," Mariella said, still panting and not getting up. "But I am ready, for the next five minutes..."
Although she could continue her rage for a while, she knew she would feel it in her body for quite some time. Since our babies possessed their own magic and powers, they were perfectly safe.
Wulfe looked at Mariella and said, "Your triplets are sleeping. You only have three inside you, three girls, by the way."
Her expression remained neutral. While she would have preferred Damon to check and reveal their gender, her blooming hormones made the reality of it sink in.
"Three girls..." she muttered.
With minutes still remaining, I stretched. Lepard smiled, understanding the importance of this moment. These burst attacks, a concept Magnum had devised, involved channeling full force for a controlled duration, aiding in rage management.
The gym was a large space with cork flooring and muted grey walls lined with equipment and machines. A climbing wall and tightly coiled ropes awaited use. Despite the abundance of equipment, we were currently in the middle of it all, on a blue mat designated for fighting.
There were two rings; Mariella and I occupied one, while the boys were in the other. If needed, these rings could be expanded or merged into one larger ring. As we were not human, there was no taping of fists or use of gloves; we relied solely on our bodies and skills. The space lacked windows, but bright ceiling lights provided ample illumination.
Only a few minutes remained until the next burst.
"Oh, this is actually fun," I thought.
I would have to recruit someone to do this for me regularly. I had never fought while properly pregnant, which might be an interesting experience, but I wondered if they would even allow it.
It was time for the second attack, and I was really letting her feel it. However, she was ready too; her adrenaline was now flooding better, making her faster. She got more hits in, which only fueled me even more. I really let myself fight, keeping my rage under control while still using it.
I would not give a meal to Number Five or Two; in other words, they would not get my rage. The Salvatores loved to feed on my rage; they were telepathic, with a specialty for certain feelings, especially rage. If I let my rage flood out, they would feed off it, and it was a tasty, euphoric experience for them.
This always pissed me off, so I had learned to control my rage even better because I didn't want to give it to them. Surely, it had been useful in the past when my rage had exploded for some reason, and they mopped up the excess, but not now.
Mariella hit my back, moving faster and more accurately. I pivoted, swept her legs out from under her, and kicked her in the ribs. She rolled, got up, and launched herself with a series of targeted kicks to my torso. I moved out of the way fast, jumped up, and kicked her jaw as I landed behind her. She had already turned, and her leg shot out to meet me. I grabbed her leg, twisted her ankle, and yanked her, causing her to fall.
Just then, the buzzer sounded again. I walked away, letting her get up and pant. I was winded too, but by God, it made me feel so much more alive. Number Two seemed to curse under his breath, something about it not being fair, three against one. Oh, he was getting his lesson all right.
One more bout, and then my lesson would shift gears to the last part, which was the part I hesitated on. I wasn't sure if it was the best possible way, but Wulfe, as well as Number Five, had assured me it would work. Mariella was looking at me as there were only a few minutes left until the last bout of fighting.
She was ready, but she was starting to feel the aches and pains from my hits. Her healing was about as fast as a vampire's, while mine was five times faster. So, sure, I might be sore, but not for long. All I needed was to eat and fuel my inner furnace, and I would be right as rain soon enough. Adrenaline was flooding and churning in my veins, and sure, I could have done this much longer, but that wasn't the whole point.
As I was giving my lesson, I could feel Charles spying on my mind, discerning my plans. He, too, was learning my tricks and tips. Perhaps it would be beneficial for the pack to have a different leader, hmm. I began to wonder what it would be like if, at some point, everyone in our original pack, all thirty of us, had to serve as leader for a week each, a rotation spanning thirty weeks. It was an interesting idea, but I wasn't sure if everyone would approve, especially with Shadow as pack leader, or Mimosa, or Elena. Well, the future is ours to mold and use; it's a great advantage to be immortal.
I turned to Mariella and asked, "Ready for the last time, princess, or are you in too much pain?"
She sneered, "No, Mimi, I'm not. Bring it on! I can take it."
I scoffed and replied, "Oh, I'm sure you think you can, princess, but you will feel this. And since this is only the first part of my lesson, this is just the beginning."
Mariella continued to sneer at me, making it so easy to provoke her. "Damon would never allow this. Once he's pack leader, he'll beat you to a pulp."
Lepard looked at Mariella and calmly questioned, "And what good would that do, princess? This isn't about violence or beating anyone to a pulp. I'm sorry you're so dense that you just don't get it. Mimi's lesson isn't about beating you or hurting you; it's about teaching you."
Mariella scoffed, "As if I would need lessons from a veritable freak with no self-control, who needs measures to keep her in line."
She grimaced as Wulfe pressed on the regulator for her metal collar. "Careful there. I have these fancy little regulators for you as well as for Mimi, but damn it, you see, princess, when I get upset, my fingers cramp, and then you feel it, so behave. Let me ask you this, and you don't need to answer me, only yourself: Are you behaving like an adult? Are you behaving like a pack member? Are you behaving like a mother-to-be? Are you behaving as you should, or are you once again an immature, needy, blind, self-obsessed little fuck doll for the Salvatores?"
Wulfe could imbue so much contempt in his voice; I had to hand it to him. Mariella snapped her mouth shut as the buzzer sounded, and the last bout of fighting commenced again.
We really hit it off this time, but she was experiencing adrenaline exhaustion. This was exactly my plan, as I understood fighting and knew precisely how long to prolong the encounter to deplete an opponent's adrenaline. Those pauses were carefully calculated to ensure her adrenaline burned out completely—a small lesson for her.
When I chose to fight, I knew what I was doing, and she was about to receive a master class right then and there. Number two also noticed this, even as the three others attacked him with the same intensity they had shown previously.
We knew how to conserve our adrenaline; it was one of the first lessons Magnum ever taught us properly. This meant learning to wind down, even bringing your pulse right down, when you weren't actively fighting.
Over time, I became skilled at it, and it paid off handsomely. Wulfe and Lepard knew this trick as well and had shared it with Number Five, who found it very useful.
You see, when you're fighting, adrenaline is naturally going to kick in, flooding your veins and giving you that aggressive edge, that intense need to fight. However, if you allow it to run rampant, keeping your pulse elevated and your muscles constantly prepared to strike even when you're not fighting, you're pointlessly burning through your reserves.
The trick lies in learning to halt the adrenaline flood after each engagement. It's a simple matter of controlling your breathing, your body, and your mind, allowing the adrenaline to fade away in minutes. Then, when it's time to act again, you get a fresh surge, ensuring you're at your sharpest. When the adrenaline really hits you, you get a fresh flood every time. This was one aspect of my lesson for her.
As the final buzzer blared, signaling the end of the sparring session, Mariella was panting, her lip bleeding, her eyes glaring. She clutched her ribs as she finally straightened up from her crouched position. I simply walked a few steps away, calming my pulse, which had surged to over 220 bpm, back to a more normal 170 bpm for me.
My voice was calmer now as I explained, "Mariella, it's called adrenaline exhaustion. Magnum taught me a little trick a long time ago, how to stop adrenaline from burning through my reserves when I'm not fighting. That's what you're feeling now. But don't worry, you get to rest in a nice, comfy cage, strung from the ceiling with number two, while we take a shower and have a meal. After that, it'll be time for the last third lesson. And for this second one, while you're in the cage, you'll have the 'upstairs' telling you their opinion of you. So, you can have a chat, defend yourself, and explain yourself as much as you want. I suspect it will take us about an hour to 90 minutes to get ready for the next lesson, so you'll have ample time to voice your worries right to heaven."
Mariella sneered. "Are you prepared to apologize to me when this is over? I can guarantee you the 'upstairs' are not as impressed by you as you seem to think. I didn't even get to say goodbye to Mimosa or Shadow. Instead of trying to make them stay, I'm forced to live with you, your perfect girls, your choice of men, for the next 13 damn years. You can be sure I'm not happy, and I will get the 'upstairs' to cancel this ridiculous little plot. Say goodbye to your perfect little life, a lie, and prepare to face the real world, with your enemies."
I rolled my eyes. Wulfe said, "Really, she just doesn't get it. I hope she will, because this is getting pretty boring."
Lepard muttered, "I hear you, and I agree. Her spouting shit is getting old."
I nodded, and Wulfe made a little gesture with her fingers, sending those two into nice, small cages in one special room, where they would have a little chat with 'upstairs' while sitting strung in the ceiling, just like I had been. I didn't put collars on them, but this would be more than enough for them; that much I knew.
And we, well, we went to take long, hot showers, and then it was time to head into the kitchen to eat something. Those two could be without food for a bit. The final lesson would be the hardest, maybe, at least for me, as it would leave me most vulnerable, as well as number five. But I had to trust in our love, our bond.