"Mariella, do your tits ache?" Mimi's voice suddenly inquired. Mariella, who was walking in the kitchen, answered with bored sarcasm, "Only if I haven't pumped in, like, four hours. And I haven't been fed the triple pellets. Why do you ask?"
Mimi's reply was surprised. "Oh. You are lactating? Well, I am not. My tits ache all the time because those damn Salvatores keep biting them, and I'm not talking sex games here. They inject something into them to make sure I don't make a drop of milk. I am so sick and tired of also having to listen to Charles giving me sermons about my fitness and my weight."
Mimi's tirade made Mariella smile. She was now a mother, a *real* mother, and it wasn't easy. She had all of these instincts that had awakened since Hive had made them a part of them, and she desperately wanted to care for her babies.
But with several overbearing Salvatores and eager girls wanting to care for the babies too, she felt like she didn't have time with them; she just wanted to hold them, to be with them. However, as soon as she had fed one, burped her, and was planning to sit and hold her baby, Damon—or some version of him, usually number one—would walk in, pluck the infant from her grip, and put it to sleep, taking her to the kitchen to cook rather than eat.
Damon was the perfect husband, ensuring Mariella ate, nursed, and even teaching her to cook. However, she longed for personal time. Mimi, on the other hand, had it easy with only Charles, Adam, Wulfe, Lepard, Demon, and Numbers Five, Nine, and Ten. Her girls were busy at the flower shop, and Mimi herself had reportedly made flower arrangements.
Number One hadn't visited Mimi's babies yet, as the three Salvatores kept him busy. Since Charles was still pack leader, Mimi was well-cared for, and Damon seemed content with Mariella. Yet, she craved time for herself, to be with her babies, and to relax, not constantly being a wife.
I was currently making breakfast and lunch for the girls when I inquired about Mariella's milking situation. Her voice was sharp and sarcastic, suggesting frustration and overwhelm. Good for her, I thought. I had made adjustments in my life since Five, Nine, Ten, and Charles found me and offered their help. I couldn't stop them from trying to end my milk production, and despite the discomfort, I let it happen. I was skinny, and losing weight to my milk wasn't ideal for me.
But for others, this was a desirable situation, and despite Charles taking his stand as packleader again, I knew how to navigate my relationship with him to keep my life bearable and ensure Mariella had a horde of doting husbands. My five were sleeping for at least the next half hour, which meant I had time to prepare the lunchboxes.
Maybe after feeding, I could tackle the laundry. Oh, I loved my top-notch laundry room and all my machines! I knew Mariella had laundry too, so there was a lot to organize. We had a schedule: two shifts, night and day, allowing those on the night shift to sleep during the day and vice versa. I, however, wasn't so tired that I slept very often.
The night shift workers, Wulfe Lepard, Adam, and Demon, were asleep. Meanwhile, I, Nine, Five, and Ten were on the day shift, which allowed the girls to visit the flower shop with Charles. Charles was making sure our order was ready. If there were any large orders, someone would always arrive with gift baskets and other items for me, Mariella, Charles, and the girls. The girls would then bring the gifts back home.
The night shift workers might wake up in the afternoon and go shopping. I wasn't sure if any of the Salvatores, those with Mariella, would be shopping. Things were going well, and I had things the way I liked them. I kept my smugness in check, taking things day by day.
The nurse was scheduled to visit in a little over a week, on Monday. Since it was Sunday, we still had a week. The babies were growing, though not too quickly, as they had lost weight since birth. Everything was adjusting, and it was taking time for them to find their balance.
Mariella was confused. She had been studying the new part of the hive for a few days, and she wasn't content. She had doubts, not related to jealousy, but because this new part of the hive had awakened her feline instincts. She felt like a lioness, wanting to be in a pride. She was restless because the alpha pair, Damon and Mimi, weren't together, and she hadn't seen the alpha cubs.
She wanted to check on Mimi, but her instincts confused her and made her question what to do. Damon was reading a medical journal in the living room, acting as if nothing was wrong, even though it was.
Mariella went to sit next to Damon, sighed, and said, "I am, once again, so damn confused, and I have no idea what to do."
Damon raised his gaze and asked, in a calm, patient voice, "What's wrong, 'Ella? Why the confusion?"
"Ever since I entered this new part of the Hive, which you cannot access, I've felt her, talked to her, yet I'm restless," Mariella replied, her posture uncertain, her gaze darting around the living room, which seemed to lack something.
But what? Damon looked at his wife and asked in a very patient voice. He wasn't worried, and he didn't know why, what his alpha mate, his first wife, had actually done in the Hive to make him calm and unconcerned. "Tell me more, my love."
Mariella urged him, "Check on the Hive, come on. I know you had a plan to make Charles grow a pair, put Mimi in her place, and let those Salvatores be spies, but go on, check on them."
Damon focused and delved into the Hive. Charles... well, he was working in a flower shop. Fine, but why? His telepathy probed, and he learned about the large wedding order, which had grown to over 250 guests. Fine.
And the Salvatores... his brows rose slightly as unconditional love, contentment, and happiness came through so clearly. None of them were in a dominant mood but focused on those five little ones, on their love for Mimi. So, she had gotten them all mushy and in love. Fine, but why was Mariella restless?
Damon focused on checking on Mimi. Her mind was overactive, and as he concentrated, it made him frown.
"Fine, I will put my moose in the baking oven, and then I need to ask when the boys wake up to get more hares, and ask what the Salvatores want for dinner, as well as Charles. Shall we make burgers or just a selection? Oh, I need to do laundry soon, but I need to make sure everyone has put their laundry in, so I can load up my machines. What day is it? Oh, it's cleaning day. Fine, I will let my helpers work as I have finished with the laundry. Babies will be sleeping two hours after the next feeding, but if not, I will let the Salvatores handle them..." Mimi's mind raced a mile a minute, and it made Damon worried.
Was she once again getting her mind in disarray? Had she slept at all? She wasn't supposed to be doing everything. And this happiness, this smugness as she planned the laundry, told Damon she had many secrets, and it would be beneficial for him and the rest of the pack to learn them too.
Damon noticed Charles's infatuation was hindering his ability to lead effectively. Damon felt the need to regain control, but he knew he had to be strategic. He needed to appear to have learned from his past mistakes, convincing everyone that his leadership would be beneficial. Although dominance was inherent to his nature as an alpha male and protector, Damon was wary. He reflected on Mimi and the frenzied thoughts he'd shared with her.
He recalled Mimi's MNDS, which was triggered by a lack of security, and how she'd felt unsafe during her pregnancy, especially when he'd clumsily attempted lessons, similar to Wulfe's. His lessons, however, were always derailed by his love for Mariella, resulting in a physical encounter and leaving her daughters to mostly care for the triplets. He realized how much he'd missed with previous children, a regret amplified by their past blunders.
Change was stirring within him, but he needed a plan. He would discuss it with the Salvatores. First, he needed Charles's support. He also wanted to finally give Mariella her lesson, ensuring she wouldn't succumb to jealousy and isolate herself, preferring only sex and lust.
No, it was time for them to be a family. It was time for him to prove his worth as a husband. As his plan solidified, he shared it telepathically with the other Salvatores. He knew Mimi, their protector, and her connection to the Salvatore hive, might sense their plan and attempt to thwart it. That wouldn't happen.
Number two, communicating telepathically, asked, "So, what's your plan of attack? I understand. Losing love, like Mimi, takes a long time to recover from. I still feel the pain, and Mariella... well, you know how she talks. But you're right; it seems the baby has a nasty case of MNDS, which is why she doesn't sleep. Her approach to baby care, though, is clever. We could use it, implementing both day and night shifts, while the others handle the shopping."
Number three, also online, responded, "How about we rotate? Everyone would get a chance to be with Mimi and Mariella. We could also discover where Mimi currently lives, learn her room layout, and study her. She is our weapon and wife, not just an object to be dismissed. We need to awaken Charles's and Adam's dominance over Mariella. It's high time Miss Lust Pussy met her other husbands."
Number one smiled and said, "Now you're talking sense, my boy. We definitely need a plan and to act as a family. I suggest our first step is to learn the location of our laundry room and how to do laundry. After all, we're modern husbands, and it shouldn't solely be Mimi's job, right? We'll incorporate Mariella into this; her jealousy and pack instinct will play nicely into our plan."
The men continued to scheme. Damon had arranged for one more day before laundry, instructing his daughters, who were with Mariella, to inform Mimi that she would handle the laundry tomorrow, as it was bedding change day.
"Oh, perfect," he thought. "Miss Little Perfect will have no idea what's coming."
I was about to make my shopping list when Number One's voice echoed in my mind, a hive-mind communication: "Baby, send me your shopping list. Six and eight are heading to the shops, and we'll get you what you need. Also, what's for dinner? I'm feeling lazy, and I got a snippet from you about cooking, so count us in."
I was flabbergasted. This was my space, my domain. But he was my husband. How could I possibly in hell tell him he wasn't welcome at dinner? Should I even bother going downstairs to cook?
He spoke again, his tone lazy but firm: "Oh, please tell us where you are, so we can come over and see our five tiny ones. It seems you've already got three Salvatores head over heels for them, and as their father, I'm curious."
Oh, really? This was a bit much. I tried to find a reason to refuse, knowing his obsession with cleanliness wouldn't work. He was their father, though. Fine, I thought.
"Come and find me," I replied. "I'm not telling you where I am. It's up to you to sense my location and see if you really want to come."
Having perfected my pheromone layering, I was distressed and burst one flood of them again in the air, causing Number Five, who had come into the kitchen to comfort me, to wrap himself around me.
"What is it, baby? Why are you upset?" he asked.
Rolling my eyes, I replied, "Number One wants to come for dinner and see the babies, but I'm not really up to it. This is our nest, after all. I guess I just reacted to that."
He held me close and said, "Let him come, come on, what's for dinner?"
I responded, "I was thinking maybe a make-your-own-burger type of situation, but now that they're coming, I'm not so sure."
He hummed and said, "Do it, my baby. It's new to us, something the Salvatores or Mariella haven't done, so let's show them. Now, what do you need?"
I told him, "Fine. Hares from downstairs, they're in red-lined bags; I'll make a stew out of them and then turn it into a terrine. I have time, and you could bring some pheasants. I have a big moose in the baking oven already. Wagyu is left from yesterday, so grab those thin slices; let's make them into bacon. And, for me, there should be my recovery rolls, those made from organs and such. I didn't take them here, but they're in the large freezer, and I guess I'm a bit out of shape, so they might do the trick. I know Charles wants me to eat fresh and not just organ mash, but..."
Number Five purred to me, kissed me passionately, and said, "Fine, I'll go get them, give the Salvatores the list of what we need, and then I'll be back to help you out and feed those five tiny ones. I guess they're soon hungry and then need to be changed too."
I nodded as he walked out of our wing, from our den. I hoped like hell this wouldn't blow up in my face, but then again, was I overreacting here? After all, this was just family life, right? Nothing wrong with that.
Mariella was thrilled when Damon shared the dinner plans, having already informed others.
However, Damon cautioned, "This isn't a fancy affair; no need to dress up. We're just a family having dinner."
He continued, "Once we're at her place, we can assess the situation. Perhaps we could consider moving closer. I suspect she has some valuable resources there that could benefit our pack. After all, her house is enormous, and we have the space. We could relocate the nursery or even connect it, if you'd like. I sense your need for the pack and to be near Mimi, and this would help her, too. We're family, and there's no need for her to isolate half the pack. We can all live and function together. I'll speak with Charles and see if I can get him to agree to a few changes. I don't want to demand control of the entire pack, but rather seek cooperation, co-leadership, so the pack would have two leaders, him and me."
Mariella smiled, eager for this new chapter. Damon was right; they were family, and this was their life now. While her pregnancy and hospitalization had taken a toll, she was more connected to her animal instincts than ever before, feeling like a lioness needing her pride. She wanted to support the alpha female, meet the babies, and function as one pride, rather than a divided pack. Little did she know the lessons Damon had planned for her.