I, Mimi Salvatore, alpha female of our pack, and also current pack leader of our 25+ strong pack, reached for another huge, peach-colored peony and added it to the vase. With a few more stems of passionflower, a little gold-sprayed baby's breath, the welcome bouquet for Mariella's triplets would be finished.
She had gone into labor early Friday morning, and it was now Saturday. I had flowers in my cooler at home and was busy crafting the arrangement for her and Salvatore. Whether this was a genuine gesture or a bit of "fuckery," I hadn't fully decided.
"Mom, are you done? I'm hungry! Can you come and do whatever you were planning, or I swear I'll eat whatever I find," Lily's demanding voice cut through the air.
"In a minute, darling. Let me finish this, so you can teleport it to them or something. Do you know if she's done yet?" I asked her.
Emmylee replied, "Not the last time I asked, around ten AM. She was still nine centimeters and couldn't push yet. Not too happy, I thought."
I smiled to myself. Pushing out three babies, each over seven pounds, would be a long, hard dilation, indeed. It had been a day since her labor started, so she was more than ready for this. She had called me earlier when the men had gone to get something to eat, and she had sworn that if Damon even thought about knocking her up anytime soon, she'd castrate him with a rusty spoon.
Funny. It truly was. But it would be fine for them. After all, when you really have to work for something, you might appreciate it more. Let's see if Mariella's maternal instincts would kick in soon. I had carefully prepared her nursery, layering it with a selection of pheromones for her and Salvatore. I had washed several machine-fulls of clothes for her and stacked them, so she was good to go.
I had also left a selection of baby-care books, ranging from everyday care to activities for different ages, how to do photoshoots, what to eat, and when to start solids. It was just to show her how much there was to know. I knew Salvatore would read each book too, and they were all meant for full-sized, ready, and plump babies.
Although Mariella's little girls were technically preemies by age, they were not anatomically or mentally, as the energy shots had prepared their minds. I didn't feel jealous; instead, the more I read about caring for micro preemies, the more I wanted to care for them. I envisioned a quiet time just for me, not Salvatore.
Wulfe and Adam would be fine, and I even hoped Charles would be involved. I'd capture the most perfect pictures of my tiny ones in Charles's big hands – it would be so cute. Feeling sore, tired, and definitely pregnant, I suspected my Monday morning appointment might bring bad news. I'd been lazy, spending only the minimum time on the monitor, and I wasn't even sure if Damon had looked at them while Mariella was in labor.
After finishing my arrangement and picking it up, I started waddling to the kitchen to make my fish soup, which I'd promised to show the girls. Now, I was eating whatever I wanted, enjoying everything in pureed, liquid form, and it would be perfect.
"Here it is; send it now, I'm done with it," I said, carrying my flower basket to the kitchen.
The girls had also been busy, sourcing baby clothes, three tiny teddy bears, and blankets, as Mariella's go-bag wasn't as well-packed as mine. They quickly assembled a gift basket, ready to send to the hospital.
I went to the freezer for the pollock. "May, go get some colorful baby potatoes from the green-labeled bag on the lower shelf," I instructed.
She nodded. I grabbed a few kilos of onions and slammed them in front of Emmylee. "Peel and chop them as finely as you want to eat them; it's all the same to me as I make this mash."
She took a knife and began working. I grabbed a huge pot, put a lot of pollock in it, and, since the soup was slightly elevated, I grabbed a few bottles of nice white wine to pour on the fish instead of just water. I wanted to make it special.
I put the lid on and let the fish thaw and get ready while May returned with potatoes and chopped them with Lily. In the meantime, Vivianne was arranging the basket, making it perfect. She soon returned to the kitchen with a smug smile.
My girls were more or less copies of me, or perhaps it was just my charming personality that influenced them, but we didn't feel any warmth toward the Salvatores or Mariella. We could tolerate them, but as we were all in the hive, we could feel her pain, her discomfort, and also her need to make sure every single Salvatore was with her, as well as Charles.
There was a nasty smugness emanating from her because Charles had been with her all this time and not with me, and Charles, well, he was weak. I swore to myself that once they were home, I would show Mr. Damn Cornick just how easy it was to be a clinical protector, with no need for a confession of love or playing Mariella's game. I was also pissed off with him. This time, I would let my mood show; it fluctuated as I felt something or dove deep into the hive, and my irritation really flared up.
I checked on my fish, stirring them slightly, and then, after ten minutes or so, as the fish started to flake, I said to May, "Add the potatoes and onions and one more bottle of wine; I'll take care of the herbs."
They started to load the pot with colorful, tiny pieces of potato and onion. Vivianne opened the next bottle of wine and prepared to pour it in. I went to my herb section, took some chives, chervil, and a few other fresh herbs from my collection, and gathered them in a bowl. I walked to a counter and started to chop them finely, intending to add them to the soup last so they wouldn't be blended.
May said, "I think you can blend the whole thing; it will be a perfect, velvety soup for us, too. I have our thermos mugs so we can sip them, too."
I said, "Fine, if you want to, we can make it a velvet soup, so to speak."
Emmylee brought me a chair and made me sit down as I was chopping. Vivianne and Lily took some chocolate, heavy cream, and a few other ingredients and started to make chocolate mousse for our dessert. Oh yeah, we were going to enjoy ourselves.
Damon had convinced Wulfe to go on a business trip, an opportunity Wulfe's work had offered, and one Damon saw as a chance to separate him from me. I couldn't understand it. Here I was, heavily pregnant and potentially going into labor at any moment, and he was taking people away from me. What was the point?
But this was my life, and at least I had my girls. We could monitor ourselves, which was one reason for the over-the-top gift basket, a little "fuck you" to Damon. At least I had manners; I had also added my knitted baby clothes. I had knitted tiny ones for my preemies from extremely thin silk, and I had something to do for them, too.
All of Damon's actions pissed me off. Wulfe's business trip would be a week-long, even if it brought him a big bonus. It was just money, and I could have used him. But no, not when Mariella was jealous, and Damon was jealous, and my guess was he had gotten Charles jealous too. But hey, I was still the pack leader, as Charles hadn't taken his stance back yet, and I wasn't sure if Damon would persuade him to give his leadership back, so Mr. Salvatore would once more be top dog, or something.
Fifteen minutes later, I checked on the potatoes and found them tender. Oh yeah, this was almost done. I let it simmer without a lid as I went to the fridge to get my heavy cream, whole milk, butter, and lots of salt
. I said to the girls, "This is soon done, not long anymore."
Lily said, "Good, I am hungry as a wolf," her eyes flashing briefly yellow.
She, too, had several shapes she could take if she wanted.
I added cream, milk, and a generous amount of butter to the soup, along with what felt like a truckload of salt, although it needed it. Despite my personal needs, my blood pressure wasn't significantly affected by salt, and I needed it, as my electrolytes were being used by my five. The butter was melting into the milk and cream mixture.
As the soup was almost simmering, I shut off the power and grabbed my blending stick, attaching it and starting to blend our soup into a velvety dream. It was a really big pot, so we'd have it for quite a while, and it was meant to be comfort food, not something we'd eat all the time, but maybe once a day or so.
Oh, I could hardly wait to start crafting the first meals for my five; there was so much to do before that. I had watched all kinds of clips on baby care and how to help them move and get up, roll over. I would be very busy, and I could be home for a few years, as multiples get longer maternity leave as well. It was a win-win for me.
We were reclining in my big bed, watching Marvel movies and sipping my wonderful soup, and the girls were praising it, swearing they would make it again.
I said, "Well, Damon has issues with it, has from the start. I've modified it a bit, but this is perfection. We'll keep this pot in our fridge in the baby wing, and then we can take our comfort mugs from time to time. I'm not sure about babies' needs for salt, but this is really good for them too. Just wait until I get to make my creamy chicken dish; it is so good too. Again, not perfect for me, but tasty anyway."
Lily said, "Not everything needs to be so damn good for us all of the time; life is about living and enjoying, so fuck yeah, let's feast while we can. Once the Salvatores get over the baby boom, it's back to eating meat, not that it's bad-tasting, but it is, well, it does get boring."
I nodded and took a big gulp of my hot soup right from my thermomug. Oh, this was truly life. I had an excellent position, good company, tasty food, and good movies; what else could one need? I knew that sooner rather than later, my life would be all about babies, not that there was anything wrong with that, but this moment was so freaking nice.
My persistent backache seemed to go away, and my body finally relaxed; it had felt like I was so damn bunched up, and my muscles were locked tight all day, but now, finally, I relaxed.
Our weekend was wonderful. I knitted, while the girls sewed pieces together. I made a few cardigans, though they were just one piece. I still had to attach the sleeves. I thought I could knit them right on, but the girls were very good at sewing, so they got them on with no big seams.
We were also putting the final touches on our nurseries. The bigger one wasn't full yet, but it would be soon. I had just given a few orders to the girls on what to do, but according to May, I should take math classes because a few didn't mean 11. But hey, who's counting?
I was achy, and Damon informed me late Saturday evening that Mariella had finally given birth. The babies were all over 7 pounds and healthy, and he was so happy. He hadn't said anything about that earlier, even though I'd been doing my monitoring. The only problem was that I hadn't been studying my readings personally before. Since the readings went to his phone, not our server, I didn't have access to my previous ones.
I had no idea what they had been like, what was normal, and what wasn't. It was useless for me to look at the graph and think every tiny jagged point was a contraction or just normal muscle movement. I just hoped he or one of the Salvatores would inform me if something was wrong.
I had my appointment again on Monday morning, and my doctor would see it too, as she would take her own reading at first. It was getting harder and harder to get moving. My back seemed so sore, and my muscles protested by locking up, making me want to stretch, but I had no idea what to stretch.
Sunday evening was pretty uncomfortable, and there had been no word from Damon, even though I'd sent my readings an hour before, so I thought there was nothing wrong with them.
As Monday morning neared, May was scheduled to drop me off at the hospital. The doctor always took time to chat and review my results, plus there were blood tests to be done. We had arranged for May to return to the shop, and I would either call her or take a cab if everything was okay.
I would let her know as soon as I knew anything. I had also instructed my girls not to tell anyone else unless I permitted them. I was taking charge, making my own decisions. It was a little lesson for the guys, too. This situation was truly at its peak, and I wasn't going to cooperate, not right now. It was my decision, and mine alone, when, what, and whom to tell.
It was Monday morning, and I was exhausted. I hadn't slept properly in weeks, to be honest. But I couldn't relax; my body seemed to be fighting it. My persistent backache hadn't stopped since the night before, and walking was difficult. My muscles were stiff and locked up, and I was panting, but I hid my discomfort from the girls and from Wulfe, who was away on a business trip and needed to focus.
Damon and Charles' connection with me and Adam was limited, and I suspected it was either Mariella or Damon who had influenced him to do that. It made me even more angry because I could have used some support, and I was ready to show him, once this was over, how easy it is to be a clinical protector without Mariella's jealousy and drama.
As I had read about her jealousy and possessiveness, it made sense: the root of it wasn't her, but rather her alpha power. Damon, the other Salvatores, and most of my original pack, including Adam and Charles, were base species lion shifters. Damon, as a male with alpha power, would naturally be territorial and possessive, wanting all the females.
As a vampire, Damon was less possessive, although he was still jealous. He had many relationships with women and was jealous of me, but not overly possessive. This changed when he became a shifter, and his feline side awoke.
Mariella's possessiveness stemmed from the fact that Damon had given her a part of his alpha power. This male-type power meant she needed to "get them all"—all the men—and she was fiercely defending her territory: her bed. Combine that with lust and sex, and you get Mariella.
My base species is a black jaguar, and I possess female-type power, meaning I hunt, defend, and nurture. In a normal pack, I would have been the one to give my powers to the females, making them female-type power bearers, so they too would nurture, care, and hunt, rather than hoard males.
However, I had the misfortune of having these powers mixed up, which contributed to our relationship crisis. I had given my powers to Elena and Katherine, who were absent. I would meet them once this thirteen-year period was over. They were far less possessive of Damon and more like me. My girls also had my power, so they didn't want males all the time, but instead did what was needed for the pack.
Our alpha power wasn't the only thing enslaving us, but it affected us more deeply than Mariella or even Damon wanted to admit. When I read this, I understood. For me, it wasn't a bad thing. I was just as much animal.
Getting dressed and preparing for the day, I was certain I wouldn't be returning to work; my condition was simply too uncomfortable. The girls would manage the shop. It might need to close temporarily, but our wedding order was nearly complete. I could handle the remaining small accents at home, or the girls could do it.
It was a very large order, as it also required crystals, many different kinds, from tiny chips placed in glass jars and filled with fairy lights to rather large, all-natural specimens for tables. Money was certainly needed. In the back of the yard, I had five large containers filled with stones, materials, and crystals that would last for years, providing stock for our online shop and my shop.
Right now, as I tiredly ran my hand through my messy hair before pulling it into a ponytail, I wasn't focusing on anything specific, just getting through the day. Damon hadn't said anything from my monitoring feeds, and I had no way of knowing if he'd even looked at them.
As I stood up, a sharp pain hit my pelvis as the weight of the babies pressed down on my cervix. That damn cerclage felt the pressure, but it held; after all, it was triple strength, and there were two layers of stitching in my cervix. I was prepared for yet another medical examination and was just hoping they would stay inside.
Then I rolled my eyes thinking about the names of Mariella's girls; she had literally given them very "bimbo" names: Candice, Tiffany, and Amber. Fine, let her name her babies as she pleased. I had different names in mind, one rare, one perhaps a little more common. The boys' names weren't that special, and for girls, well, I had ideas. I wasn't going to ask Damon, not unless he demanded different names, but based on what little came through from him and others, Mariella and her babies were all there was. And I was fine with that.