Pack had been around for three days, bringing the total time since the "fuckfest" to fourteen days. I was in a terrible mood, snapping at everyone. Mariella and Damon had retreated with their children, moving downstairs—a move I found infuriating. After all, I had every right to be angry. The Salvatores were preoccupied with the kitchen, preparing food, while the girls and I were left to manage the toddlers.
Mariella's triplets were particularly cranky, having been removed from their usual play area and denied access to the other toddlers. Those idiots just didn't understand. Instead, I was forced to listen almost daily to Mariella and Damon's self-pity, Mariella lamenting her parenting failures and Damon readily agreeing, listing his own faults. They were playing the martyr, the victim.
I just rolled my eyes, wanting to lash out. I longed to tell them to stop acting like spoiled children, to grow up, take responsibility for their mistakes, and move on. But, of course, they wouldn't. My frustration hadn't pushed away the Salvatores or Wulfe; they understood and were actively addressing their own weaknesses, striving to shorten our list of unfinished chores daily.
Adam and Charles were chopping wood, and Charles had even assigned Damon paperwork, further fueling his martyr complex. He sighed, and Mariella bemoaned how ill-equipped he was as pack leader. I was about to explode, completely fed up, and I intended to make this perfectly clear to them, and soon.
Their martyr act was achieving nothing, and it was obvious they were using it as an excuse to seek out time to go and fuck themselves to "stunners"—something I was determined wouldn't happen. It was time for Mr. Dickweed and Miss Pussy to grow up, be part of the pack, and learn how things were done.
I was on my way to fold laundry, carrying clothes in sacks, which were easier to manage than baskets. Suddenly, Number Two approached me, stopping to tilt his head and stare, his gaze cruel. He seemed to be waiting for me to snap, wanting a reaction. But I had too much to do.
"Are you going to stare at me all day?" I asked. "I have things to do, clothes to fold. I have no time for your dominance games."
He then placed his palm between my breasts, right over my dragon scales, and said, "Oh, please, missy, try me. I'm in the mood for some spice in my life. You seem pissed off, and sure, you have reason to be, but no need to try to glare through my skull. I am not backing down."
I rolled my eyes and replied, "If you want spice, go to the kitchen, make food, have fun. But oh, you had fun for a few weeks, right? Between Mariella's thighs."
My tone was venomous as I pushed past him, but he grabbed me and threw me against the wall, pressing close.
He glared into my eyes, saying, "Baby, oh, you have fire going on, right? Please, try me."
I rolled my eyes, stomped on his toes, pushed him away, and walked off, leaving him cursing as his toes knitted back together. I muttered to myself in a snarky tone as I walked to the living room, sat on the couch, and opened the sack. I poured the clothes next to me and began my work. As I had said, I knew my priorities, and sex and dominance games were not among them.
I was sitting on the couch when I heard giggles and running footsteps. I rolled my eyes, knowing this could turn into quite the show. I teleported most of the folded clothes to their destinations and continued working as Wulfe, and my five came in, followed by Number Three and Number Nine. They both looked a little haggard, as it was work to be with these five.
They had boundless energy, and the gym had given them even more skills and confidence. It was almost more the rule than the exception that when toddlers became overtired or needed a nap, they would run and scream, not walk or focus on anything. Putting five overtired, overstimulated toddlers down for a nap was not easy or simple by any means.
Wulfe sat beside me, folding clothes. The Salvatores were watching over the five children.
In a few moments, Wulfe telepathically said, "I can feel how pissed off you are, and I don't blame you. You have every right to be. You've been doing amazing, and I even agree with some of your names for certain pack members."
Irritated, I replied telepathically, "And the next thing you say is 'but', right? Don't bother. I just made my usual mistake. I'll get over it. I trusted someone who wasn't worth it, and now I'm paying for it. I should have known better, not let him know; he's a weakling."
Wulfe hummed and responded, "He is. What happened shook us all, I must admit. I, too, felt awful; I felt like the whole damn pack let you down, and by God, they were going to kill you and my child, and many times. I understand why you kept it a secret, and I don't know… this time I don't feel so damn wise, and I don't have any wisdom to share. I have no idea if it would have been better if we hadn't known. Somehow, I understand that ignorance is bliss, but then again, the lesson hit us properly when we saw it all. Maybe it was good in the long run that we know; I have no idea."
Our telepathic discussion was shielded, so the Salvatores were ignorant of it, focused on the kids. I, too, wasn't sure of myself. Protecting the pack was my default, even though it didn't always serve them, but it was now a moot point, as the cat was out of the bag. It had been a few weeks, so it was time to move on, but I was so damn pissed off. All the time, the stress and pressure got to me more than I wanted to admit.
Wulfe said to me out loud, so the Salvatores could hear, "My unicorn, I must admit, you are the driving force in this pack, and I think it is high time that our resident martyr couple gets a little lesson from you. So, what do you say, if we have a little lesson for them after we get this laundry done?"
I rolled my eyes. I was ready to give them a piece of my mind, but I had a million things to do, and I had to keep my priorities clear. I was literally almost torn in half as I tried to decide if I was in the mood or not. The more I thought of them, the nastier my mind got. I just rolled my eyes internally as dark satisfaction bloomed in my mind when one type of plan started to unfold. It was in no way fair or even constructive, but it would be very educational.
I shared the telepathic transmission with Wulfe, who was genuinely surprised. As a pack person, he valued cohesion and cooperation, but he also knew me well enough to recognize that this might be beneficial for me. Since he was my soulmate, far more than Damon had ever been, he wanted what was best for me.
He nodded, a beastly smile forming on his lips, his pale gray eyes lighting up with predatory intent. He shared my plan with the few Salvatores, and I must admit, their heated gazes told me clearly enough that they were in. This would be a glorious, nasty lesson, not just a one-time screaming match.
Sure, I would give them a piece of my mind, and several times at that, but I would also allow myself to feel as I truly felt. There was no use denying it. It was time for me to revel in it and rub it in Mariella's face, just to see what they might do.
I was crafting my plan while folding the rest of the clothes, which wasn't easy. My kids noticed what I was doing, and it was so much fun for them to climb over the folded stacks or dive into the clothes that weren't yet folded, tossing half of them onto the floor.
The Salvatores tried to distract the toddlers, but the toddlers wanted to spend time with me, so I let them. I wasn't in the mood to tell them no, not all the time. I had time, and I could use some time to fold clothes a little slower. After all, I was immortal, and being a mother was my priority.
These were moments of pure happiness, and their pure, unconditional love for me, the feeling that I was the most important thing in their lives, was thrilling and honoring. I had to admit, it was also scary, as I felt somehow not ready to take on such a responsibility, but I hardly had a choice here.
I said to Wulfe, as he was making Sadie giggle uncontrollably, "I can only imagine how busy Christmas will be. These little runts will be all over the Christmas tree, and I'm not sure we can put too many ornaments on it, at least not on the lower branches."
Wulfe's reply was a touch sarcastic: "Well, the twins will probably try to topple the tree, Dash will likely run into it, and Darien will be trying to climb it."
I nodded; those five were certainly lively, and Christmas might be the best one yet. Then, my catty mind conjured images of Mariella, heavily pregnant with a huge belly, her breasts leaking, ready to give birth, or perhaps having already delivered, with premature babies and her looking haggard, tired, and her triplets jealous and needy. Oh, I was such a bitch, but my mind gave me permission to be one.
Despite the high summer temperatures outside, the kids loved playing in the yard. It required a bit more supervision, especially since the Salvatores had built them a playground with fences, creating a safe area for them to frolic. This seemed to give them more energy and not tire them out as much.
However, with only one nap during the day, they were much more involved in our lives, and the time would come sooner than I thought when they would want to do chores and not just play behind the gates. That was the time I was waiting for, dreading as well.
Sure, it might be fun to make food with them, but then there were knives and all the sharp things. I was a mom and wanted to protect my babies, even more so since the damn infection. It hadn't faded from my mind, and day by day, I had encapsulated and hidden it. Sure, Wulfe might one day find it if he focused, but it would take time. Right now, we don't have any free time, not since we had a family.
For him, me, and the other kids, their needs came first. The Salvatores were curious about my plan, and I shared some of my expressions and opinions on the matter.
Number Nine said, "You are inventive, I must give you that. But you're right; I'm not sure how long this will take."
The reality of the situation shook them into focusing on doing things properly. "I mean, we've already given them lessons, and now they seem to need more. Well, at least you get to be a damn teacher."
I replied to one of my husbands, feeling his support and closeness, "It is just their love of martyrdom, their desire to revel in self-disgust, and their unwillingness to move on. But fine, let's see if we can pull them out of this and make it work. I was just thinking about Christmas, surely."
Number Three exclaimed, "Oh my God, we have snow! We'll have a perfect Christmas with gifts, carols, maybe a sleigh ride, gingerbread cookies, and whatnot." He continued, "But now it's still summer. I was thinking of making this water jet thing for them, as it's hot outside, so they can run under water, spraying from hoses. I saw this in your mind."
I nodded and said, "Not a bad idea, actually. Cleaning them might be a bit hard afterward, but hey, water works."
He nodded back and said, "I just shared this with Six and Eight. Since they're chopping wood, they can start putting it up for tomorrow."
It was wonderful, once again, to be a family and do these things with my husbands and children.
My upcoming lesson for Damon, Number One, and Mariella was fast approaching, and I intended to make it a success. I couldn't understand why I was constantly so angry and driven to outmaneuver Mariella. My mind refused to acknowledge the true reason, but I knew I would understand within a few weeks.
All I focused on was making the lesson perfect. I had numerous advantages over Mariella, and I had accumulated many victories. I also had plenty of clear examples to demonstrate Damon's unsuitability as pack leader. However, he wanted the role, so we had agreed. It just wouldn't be easy.
We had adjusted our tasks, meaning the pack leader had mandatory duties that would consume time and points. He would have to complete those first, then see what else he could manage. Charles was involved as well, deciding who did what and when. For Damon, this meant three hours or more of paperwork for pack leadership, three times a week.
Since Charles was also taking driving gigs, Damon would have to take on extra tasks when Charles couldn't. So much for a relaxing break for those two. I'd arranged things to limit Mariella as well; Number Four and Number Two made certain activities impossible during pregnancy.
Furthermore, her high blood pressure meant she was required to have daily relaxation periods, facilitated by the girls, either mine or hers. Things like meditation and sound bowl relaxation, which might annoy her, but Number Two would install an internal blood pressure monitor. If she lost her temper, she'd have to take a nap. My life was as close to perfect as it could be, or at least, that's how I saw it.
As we sat in the living room, surrounded by laughter, unconditional love, and even our mischievous plans, I finally admitted, "I had no idea when this all began that it would become this incredibly complicated, and you all are simply wonderful. What the future holds, I haven't a clue, but right now, this challenges me daily in ways I never imagined."
Wulfe smiled and agreed, "Yes, you're right, Mimi. We learn something new every day, preparing for the future. Let's not worry about that yet. We'll face each challenge as it comes."
Number Nine added, "My love, I adore you. As for the future, the Azores feel dull, so if the time comes, I might just come and spend time with you, instead of fighting Mariella's changes for fucking her for two hours."
I leaned in, playfully nipping his neck, and said, "Oh, don't you dare threaten me! I might just need some time on a remote island to myself in the future. As for these little ones, well, it's up to us. We'll bear the brunt of their education, and hopefully, the magic house won't hate us when they move there."
Wulfe quietly confessed, "I'm not sure if I'll want them to leave then; I might just let them stay with us."
He hugged Sadie closer. He, without a doubt, was one of their fathers and loved them deeply. It was truly amazing to have family, kids, and not be alone.