Despite Number Five's reassurances, I was anxious. My instincts were on high alert, and I was hesitant to expose my babies to others. Call it nerves, but it wasn't because I'd done anything wrong or feared Damon's reaction to our bond. My mind was, as usual, a jumbled mess, and I'd used considerable cunning to keep parts of it private, especially from Wulfe.
On the surface, I was cheerful and perky, but I hadn't slept for a good reason. They weren't my memories this time, but real nightmares that I hid. And since Damon was a recurring element in these nightmares, that probably contributed to my unease.
In these simple nightmares, I'd be in the nursery, feeding my babies, when Damon and Mariella would somehow appear. Damon would sneer, Mariella would cling to him, cooing about a good opportunity for him to correct his mistakes. Then, with a beastly smile, Damon would transform into a lion, paralyze me with a spell, and eat my babies. The repetition of this nightmare was enough to keep me awake and silent.
I realized what a mess I was, riddled with insecurities and deep trust issues, when I saw nightmares of my husband eating my babies. I would wake up panting and shaking. After hours of perfecting my pheromonal layering, it would take me hours to even sit in the nursery.
I suspected that my anxiety and insecurities were also present in my pheromones, as the three Salvatores I had were fiercely protective of me and my babies, and also loved them. When a creature of my caliber, a creature of love, gives birth to five babies, what else could be expected? I'd created a litter of love creatures, forging a bond like no other between Salvatore Number Five, Nine, Ten, and my babies.
I didn't even consider Mariella's babies creatures of lust or anything like that; all I focused on was my babies, my bond, our security, and, of course, my little relaxation hobbies, like laundry.
I had previously allowed five to see my washing room, but after that, I enjoyed doing laundry in my industrial-sized washing room with my spells and machines. It was my favorite pastime. However, I let a few innocent hints slip to my blood as he fed, and he soon forgot everything about my laundry room. Furthermore, a few more pheromones made laundry seem like a boring task for the rest of the pack, ensuring my peace and quiet so I could enjoy myself. I don't know why I found it such a fun activity; I guess it was a zen thing to do.
Mariella was restless and decided to walk around the house. She was curious, perhaps due to their new part of the hive, and wanted to talk to Mimi face-to-face, maybe to get a glimpse before Damon.
Wulfe had informed her about Damon's "little lesson," meaning the hospitalization, and she wasn't pleased. He had wasted money and time, and who knew what else, to give her a lesson, even though she needed one. She was partially furious and wanted to talk to Mimi, whose presence somehow gave her a sense of calmness.
Now, even Charles was unwelcome; she was fed up with him looking at her as if she were an unruly child who ate all the wrong things, while he constantly lectured her about what she should or shouldn't be eating.
She was walking on the top floor when the smell of cinnamon, tree bark, and jungle made her shiver. Simultaneously, her feline side recognized these scents as territorial markings, meaning Mimi was nearby. She walked along the corridor and noticed that their so-called mating wing was closed off. The smell intensified.
As she reached for the door, a soft voice behind her made her jump: "Whatcha you looking for doll?"
The drawl was filled with danger and threat, making Mariella feel like prey as she turned to see Number Five carrying a heavy basket full of meats and whatnot. His dark pink satin shirt was partially open, and the heady mix of ripe strawberries mixed with his sharp passionfruit, along with the sweet smell of babies, told Mariella she was close to his nest, meaning close to Mimi too.
Mariella stammered, her throat suddenly dry.
She was just walking, she explained. "This is our home, you know?"
A sense of danger and almost anger radiated from Damon, making her feel like prey.
"Well, darlin'," Damon drawled dangerously, "you ought to remember we have one strong alpha female, hormonal too, and she might be less inclined to just let you butt in. She might, you know, hurt ya."
Mariella reached out for Number One. "Damon, my love, I know where Mimi is, but I am being threatened, or I feel like that, by Number Five, who is less happy with me."
Damon's reply surprised her. "Well, darling, if you go poke a hornet's nest, don't complain when you get stung. Did I tell you to go and poke around? No."
Confused, Mariella expected Damon to swoop in and defend her. But he didn't. Trapped, she searched for a way out. Only when the door opened and Adam walked out, nodding to Number Five who then went in, could Mariella breathe.
"Thank you," she said to Adam, "He was kind of tense."
"Mariella," Adam said, his voice terse and stern, "I would suggest you go back to your babies and Damon. Number Five was just defending his mate, their babies, and his den, as I am. You are not invited, and if you try to walk in, whatever happens to you is your own fault. That is the alpha female's place, our place. And before you argue this is our home, it is, but we are not human, and it is high time for you to learn to live as a feline, not as a wannabe human."
Mariella nodded, turned, and walked away. Adam, too, had made her feel like prey. She didn't want to be near him. For the first time, she realized just how dangerous Adam could be. The danger she had always perceived in Damon felt like a sex game now. With those men, there was real danger. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure if she would utter any sentences to them.
As Number Five returned with the meat and informed me about Mariella, my anxiety grew. I sensed that my den was about to be overtaken, and my feline instincts were becoming overwhelming.
Charles was not strong enough to control me, and Wulfe wasn't feline. I hid my anxiety from the Salvatores while my babies, beings of pure love, did their thing. Caring for them was all the Salvatores truly cared about. However, my older girls were quite astute.
As I was now preparing the hares, May, who had just arrived home, asked, "Are you planning to control your feline side, or what? You're one breath away from shifting, Mom. I can sense it. What's troubling you?"
I shrugged dismissively and replied, "Nothing much. I just don't like my freaking lair being taken over, that's all."
May walked away, and I didn't give it another thought. I simply checked on the moose; a few more degrees, and it would be done. The oven was still scorching, but we'd utilize its heat after dinner to warm the rooms. Our system was ingenious, and Wulfe had expanded the ex-mating wing, connecting it to other parts of the house, creating many more rooms. He had also ensured the heating was perfect.
May then walked from the wing into the kitchen, sensing her father, Number One, was there. He was cooking. Mariella was with the babies, or at least that's what the Salvatores allowed. As May entered the kitchen, Damon was making a few simple dishes, putting them in the freezer. He was relaxed and sure of himself, and May sensed he had a plan.
"Dad, I want you to tell me I shouldn't worry about Mom," May said.
She wasn't overly concerned about betraying her mother; she simply wanted to ensure her well-being. She sensed something was amiss: her mother seemed cheerful, happy, and loving, yet something was off.
Damon turned around, raising an eyebrow as his daughter spoke. "Why? Tell me a little more so I can understand what's going on."
May stood in the doorway, and Damon gestured for her to sit, then went to the fridge to get her something to eat, an instinct for him, even though he wasn't sure if he was her protector.
Damon listened as May described Mimi, saying, "She is cheerful and loving and lets the men care for the babies. We're mostly manning the shop, but sometimes she has this look on her face that makes her seem so damn tired. Wulfe, Adam, Charles, and the Salvatore brothers don't seem worried, but I feel uneasy around her, like I'm supposed to protect her, defend her from some unseen enemy. And she's about to shift; her feline side is so superficial. Wulfe doesn't understand because he isn't a feline. The Salvatores are head over heels for her and the babies, and Charles and Adam aren't strong enough to calm her down."
Damon took a breath, trying to think of the best approach, and shared this information with Number Two.
Number Two responded, "I think you should go there, just you, to check her out. It seems she has some issues. Goddamn, I just can't get through, not even Lepard can, and she has masked this from Wulfe."
Number One then asked telepathically, "What do you mean?"
Number Two replied, "Check her mind. I'll show you, but be gentle. I'm trying to avoid her sensing me, but she has isolated a part of her mind, and I can sense her willpower in there. I'm not sure if alerting Wulfe will help yet."
Number One focused, his telepathy slipping into Mimi's mind like smoke. Number Two showed him a thick, strong wall, where he could sense her will, her rage, and her love. The secrets she was hiding weren't good, as Damon knew her well. She had trust issues, and he couldn't blame her. He had almost caused her babies to die or be injured, thinking he could handle everything, which led to an emergency operation that was expensive, as her insurance covered only 40%. He was trying to be better.
Number One then said to May, "Okay, I'll go in. You stay here. Make sure Number Two is up to date on the huge order, and check on the snakes. We can start shipping them and the retic babies soon."
May nodded, unsure what would come of this, and if she'd done the right thing, but at least it was something. Damon walked away from the kitchen, took a deep breath, and tried to organize his thoughts. What he was going to do depended on many things, and he couldn't be sure of the outcome.
I had just taken the moose out of the oven when Number One's voice startled me. "My love," he said, "I see you've done some renovations. I just came to check on you and see what's for dinner."
I swallowed, bewildered. How the fucking hell had he gotten in? I had freaking meticulously layered my pheromones, ensuring he couldn't come near us. Yet, there he was, leaning against the doorway, looking at me with eyes as cold as the Arctic. He didn't seem pleased. My eyes flashed yellow, and I released a surge of my alpha power – a significant one.
He blinked in surprise, adjusted his stance, and moved closer. "What's going on? I'm not here to harm you. Try to calm down, will you?"
I took a deep breath, and my eyes returned to normal. Then, Number Five materialized like a ghost, wrapping himself around me and purring into my ear, attempting to soothe me. He was incredibly attuned to me, perhaps even more so than Charles.
"I'm fine," I said. "This is just my den, my lair, and I won't let you take it over and give it to Mariella."
Number One sighed. "I'm not going to throw you away, but, baby, we are family. Why don't you focus on dinner while I call the others to check this place out? It seems it has expanded quite a bit, and there's room for us all. We are a pack, after all."
Just then, Charles entered the kitchen, offering Damon a slight nod. I had no idea what they were discussing.
Then Wulfe arrived, speaking to me telepathically. "My unicorn, I'll make sure they behave. Come on, let's show them around. Let me show them how it's done. I know about your hidden place; Number One just told me. So, you're not fine, but I will help, as always."
I rolled my eyes. I desperately wanted to be alright, but my hormones and my mind had turned me into a mess. Add to that my habit of hiding my struggles, and you can imagine what I was going through.
"Fine," I said to Wulfe, "give the pack a tour of our new wings and show them what we've done here. The babies are sleeping, so try not to disturb them. Feeding time will be soon enough. I'll keep prepping our dinner. Did you want birds as well, Wulfe?"
He nodded, and I soon heard footsteps as the other pack members walked in. It seemed Damon had somehow, or perhaps Wulfe had, nullified my pheromones, but that was fine; I could make more.
I took the pheasant from the oven, put it under foil, and lifted it. Meanwhile, I took moose, wrapped the suet in our slicing machine, and turned it on. The machine sliced the huge roast into thin slices, ready for anyone who wanted to add them to their hamburgers.
I also took salad leaves, washed them, along with cucumber, chives, and fresh sugar snap peas, and put each item in its own dish so everyone could compile their own salad. I put my playlist on to listen to some music while I focused on prepping my things.
While Wulfe, Number Five, Nine, Ten, Adam, and Charles took the rest of the pack on the tour, Damon was still preoccupied with Mimi's vehement reaction.
He had shared his concerns with Wulfe, and Wulfe had calmly responded, "Sounds like MDNS," meaning Mimi's Distress Nightmare Syndrome.
This syndrome twisted her mind into knots, causing hyperactivity, insomnia, and mental turmoil. They had done a lot of work on this syndrome, but it was nasty, and it would be triggered by her insecurities and feelings of unsafety and being alone.
Damon couldn't help but blame himself, knowing his blunder had brought this on. Mimi was adept at deflecting worry from herself onto others, and she might trigger Mariella to misbehave or something, just to shift the focus.
But Wulfe, his secret weapon, Damon thought a little bit bitterly, would not be so easy to dismiss, and he might get through that wall and help her, or let them help her. Damon wanted to just take Mimi into bed, make her sleep, feel safe, and recover, but she had lost her trust in him and might not sleep, not to start. So, he needed to pace himself, try to make this situation a little less volatile, and maybe show Mimi he was not a threat.
Damon was impressed by the renovations to the wing, and he genuinely desired to live there with his family, as a pack. Lust wasn't his primary focus; he had a plan. He intended to relax Mimi, get Mariella on board, and give her a lesson of a lifetime.
He had already shared the basics of his plan with Charles and Adam, who were eager to participate in teaching Mariella what they expected of a wife. Damon wasn't in a hurry to become pack leader; he wanted to ensnare Mariella first. It was time for her to meet a pack leader unlike any other.