I took a deep breath, rose, and walked back to my NICU, as I called it. It was 3 AM, and I had just gone to the kitchen for a bite when my alarm, a fancy wristwatch Adam had invented, alerted me that Sadie would soon be screaming if I didn't go to her.
My girls were named Sadie, Seraphina, and Sabrina; I had planned for the boys to be Darien and Dash. I'd been home for five days, and no Salvatore had noticed anything. My pheromones were working too well. Lepard told me that Mariella usually had a wet shirt because her breasts were leaking.
Damon and the other Salvatores were grumpy and tired, having been up all night without sex, as Mariella didn't want any. Lepard also mentioned that Mariella described her genitals as resembling a baboon's, being sore and swollen, and her hormones focused on caring for her babies. That's life in a family, I thought. Welcome.
I, or rather, Wulfe, Adam, the boys, and a few girls were busy; these five kept us awake constantly. I was, of course, making milk like crazy, and I had frozen it. Both the boys and Wulfe had emptied me a few times, but my powers, which were all over the place, seeped into my milk in varying strengths, flooring Wulfe a few times due to the sheer raw power. So, I just had to pump and hope for the best.
Two of the girls were in the shop, albeit with shorter hours, and I had done a few pieces for the wedding in my spare time, which wasn't often, but that order was almost complete. Charles hadn't noticed my condition yet, as I had kept it hidden and hadn't left my wing for them to see me without my bump.
Wulfe was furious most of the time, cussing and ranting because no one asked about me, and he swore he would give them hell once they noticed. However, I had a slightly different plan: I would show them who truly wanted to be with me, and who was just looking to dominate or boss me around, all done with my pheromones, of course. I was, so to speak, cunning.
I walked in, and Wulfe followed close behind.
"Sadie?" he asked quietly.
I nodded. We entered the nursery, and I picked up my singleton, who was, as always, Daddy's girl. Impatient and not afraid to use her voice, she made her needs known. It was not the time to wake the other four.
Wulfe went to the care station, gathering supplies. I carried our little one to him. For him, it was always a moment of wonder as he carefully unwrapped the tiny creature, removed the dirty diaper, and gently cleaned and changed her. I didn't have much to do yet. Things would be different if several of them woke up or were hungry at the same time, but right now, he wanted this. He was going to be the one to care for these ones.
He was still furious with Damon, and he couldn't believe no one had asked me anything. No one had even looked at my medical records. They were all wrapped up in worshipping Mariella and her triplets. Wulfe wasn't going to let things stay this way much longer. He was going to tell them I had given birth. It had been almost a medical emergency, and Damon was not the teacher he thought he was.
I tried to calm Wulfe, but I knew he was stubborn. He had learned some not-so-wonderful qualities from me, like snapping and telling the pack what was going on. He was truly my other half, and I knew him well enough that no matter what I said or did, he wouldn't listen.
Not even if I were still pack leader, as Charles was too deeply embedded in Mariella's web. I had no idea what Wulfe was planning, but I hoped it would keep the Salvatores busy. Perhaps then, I wouldn't have to listen to Damon trying to offer some lame excuse for why he had done what he had, his little lesson.
Wulfe had told me about it, having either guessed or spied on Salvatore's mind.
As we left the nursery after Sadie had fallen back asleep, he spoke, his voice a frustrated hiss, "I would have told them it wouldn't work, my love. Now they've wasted money and time, and almost put you in a dire state, just because Damon thinks he's a good teacher. Oh, I will show him what a teacher truly is. He thinks before he acts, thoroughly."
His voice was a furious whisper, and his pale eyes gleamed with anger. I took his hand, pressing our magical scars together, letting him feel my love for him, for the babies, and that I was truly fine.
"Let them be; there's no need to involve them. I want to enjoy my tiny ones. Sure, it would be delicious to see Mariella's expression when she saw what the babies would have looked like without the so-called lesson, but are we taking a risk? The last thing... well, you know me, I want Damon to find his balls and start ordering me around, or make Charles make him a pack leader. It's been fun being pack leader, I have to say." I said to him calmly.
We went to our upgraded kitchen. As I reached for something to eat from the fridge, I couldn't help but envision our mornings here, the kids coming in sleepy in their pajamas for breakfast. I might pack their lunches, or even make them for the men too.
But who would be here with me? Sure, Wulfe, the boys, Adam, but Charles? I hoped so, but Mariella seemed to have sunk her hooks a little too deep into Charles, Damon, or the Salvatores. It would be nice to have a few of them here, to be family.
As I pondered this, I sent it to Wulfe and said aloud, "Am I crazy? Am I being selfish? Why am I envisioning this, creating a family but not including the whole pack? Wouldn't it be natural for me to want Mariella and everyone to be here, or for us to be somewhere else, not isolated in our wing?"
Adam entered the room. He had seen the situation as well and said, "No, honey, you're not crazy. And by God, that seems wonderful. You see, I used to have a pack of over 30 people, and they all had their own lives. Sure, they might live in my house, but their lives were separate. Even though we were a pack, a kind of family, they didn't have to be like humans. One can never know what Damon might do in this type of situation. Of course, he and Mariella, his girls, kids, and some Salvatores might live in another part of the house, and it would be just fine. Or then… one can never know when dealing with you, my snowball."
I rolled my eyes; it seemed Adam knew me a little too well. This also made Wulfe smirk as he realized how much my feline side and my triple alpha sides were influencing the situation, ensuring we would be the ones making the decisions, not Damon. In my mind, the fun thought, DO NOT OBEY DAMON, grew louder with each passing day and with each decision I had made.
By God, it was eight AM, according to Wulfe. He had monitored the pack's activities, given them time, and still nothing. He was furious and walked out of their wing, letting his spell empower Mimi's pheromones. Surely, they would know she would have her children, but the question would remain: who would have access?
It was a simple game of hide-and-seek, and those who truly wanted to be with her would get in, while those "pussyslaves" would have no chance of getting into snowball in hell unless Mimi permitted them.
Wulfe entered the downstairs kitchen. It seemed vast and empty, almost sterile, especially after he'd been in their private wing and kitchen, the one Mimi had wanted. He'd made it perfect for her, and he was eager for this little revelation. The Salvatores, Charles, Mariella, and her older girls were all seated at the table, laughing and talking.
Despite his earlier thoughts, Mariella smelled of sex, indicating her body must have healed. The girls looked exhausted, so Wulfe assumed they were caring for the babies, while Salvatore engaged in a sexual relationship with Mariella; that was no more.
His voice was bitter, poisonous, and filled with anger. Wulfe hissed as he raised his phone. "Do you know, Damon, what this is? Do you have one? And pray tell, have you checked your phone in days?"
Damon looked stunned and replied, "Well, the babies. And..."
Wulfe snarled, "You mean Mariella's pussy? Mimi is a mother, by the way."
Number Five exclaimed, "What? When? Is she still… Goddamn it!"
He rose, moved to Mariella, and sank his fangs into her neck, draining her completely and snapping her neck, flinging her out of the kitchen. Number One remained silent as Nine and Ten erupted in anger. Charles looked guilty.
Number Five had acted on impulse, but his little trick made quite a difference in Mimi's and Mariella's lives to come. His anger and wish to demonstrate Mimi's superiority over Mariella had blinded him. In this pack, one might want to think twice before acting on a need or desire, as his actions opened a new part of the hive, a place where Mimi and Mariella were. It was a new section, but it was now part of the hivemothers, a place for Mimi and Mariella to converse, connect, and for Mimi to teach, if she was in the mood, and Wulfe also did something else as well.
"Do you seek clarity?" he asked Damon in a soft voice. "Do you want your mind to be your own, separate from your feelings, or do you prefer to remain the bigger mess you are now, a pitiful, weak mess?"
Damon bristled. He was not a mess, and this youngster clearly didn't know what he was talking about.
However, Damon's ego blinded him to the truth, and his overconfidence made him snarl, "Oh, please, I am not a mess. Fine, do your worst. Show me, oh wise one, where I am such a big mess."
Wulfe smiled thinly. Salvatore, as usual, was so easy to lure into a trap. But Wulfe did this out of love, love for his unicorn, as he wanted this family to function without Damon being overrun by his feelings and his empathy, feeling everyone, and unable to distinguish his own emotions.
Wulfe focused and cast a spell, combining it with his telepathy. He had learned this combination technique from Mimi, the master of combining and changing everything. Wulfe had learned to do the same, and it truly made a difference.
The spell entered Damon's mind, separating his emotional wells and moving them far away from his telepathy core. His empathy was also isolated; he would now sense it as a power, a tool to use, not just something he could passively feel.
As usual, Damon had been lazy, relying on his gut without understanding what he was doing. Now, Wulfe reorganized his mind and gave him a wealth of information on how to use his telepathy and combine it with other powers, making it even more powerful.
As Damon's newfound clarity cleared his mind, he realized he had been a mess. Now, he could think logically and strategically, no longer overrun by his frantic need to ensure Mariella was safe. Moreover, Wulfe had shown him how to salvage his mistakes: how to stop being an idiot driven by his desires and how to teach Mariella to be a wife.
Life was about to change. Curiosity and the need to see his children with Mimi also woke up, but he was patient. Mimi had been home for five days, and now it was time to send in his spies. He made a plan and shared it with the Salvatore hive, making number five smile, as well as numbers nine and ten.
Oh, life would be very interesting for the females. Time would come for him to see those tiny infants Mimi was fiercely protecting, but first, he needed to organize the pack, use his wits, and let Charles be pack leader.
Damon was very skilled in the art of manipulation, and giving Mimi her Charles back was the plan. However, Charles wouldn't just be all heart and let Mimi tell him what to do; Damon knew just what to say and how to say it, to make Charles see sense and grow a pair.
Damon wasn't acting out of malice; he was protecting everyone, and he too wanted a family. He was old-fashioned when it came to the roles of mother and wife, and there was nothing wrong with that. It was one role Mimi didn't excel at, and Mariella didn't want it.
As Mariella slowly woke up, now overrun by her newly awakened instincts to care for her babies, she noticed her breasts leaking milk. They were achy, and she got up, walked to the nursery, and took her breast pump, eager to release the pressure.
Her babies were sleeping, and she didn't notice the new part of the hive at first as she sat down and cussed in her mind, calling Damon names with very inventive expressions, cursing his person, his lineage, and this whole damn breeding process and her body.
She was somewhat surprised when Mimi's voice asked in her mind, in the hive, "What the fuck is going on? Why are you cussing almost as talentedly as I am, and what the fuck has happened to the hive?"