As I woke up, the first thing I realized was a sense of self and safety. I was finally me, and I was safe. Even drugged as I was, I could feel my rage, I could feel and access hive, and I could use my powers. Before even trying to open my eyes, I smelled the air. It smelled like a medbay, but… it couldn't be. There was a slightly floral, slightly orangey, and antiseptic scent, the very smell that had given me a sense of safety for so long. The original Chicago medbay had smelled just like this.
However, as my mind cleared, I recalled the other dimension, suggesting we were likely still there. Fragments of memories coalesced into real memories, and our fight, Damon's rage, and his snapping brutality as he attacked me seeped into my mind, making me shiver. He had truly lost it, and I struggled to recall what happened next. Wulfe, Charles, Adam?
Since I was in a medbay in another dimension, I must have been in pretty rough shape. After all, I had broken bones and internal damage from his attack, and I hadn't been in decent shape to begin with. I opened my eyes, and it was indeed the Chicago medbay, so accurately recreated that, despite my mind believing we were in another dimension, part of me saw this as an illusion.
Nevertheless, I allowed the sense of safety to wash over me. This was my safe haven, and it was real, as real as it could be. I was in one of the beds, the smell was right, and it looked exactly as it should, so I relaxed a bit, until my bladder started to feel full.
I noticed I still had IV lines attached, and disgust and hate flooded through me. I wanted them out, and I wanted them out now. As I struggled to get into a better position and found myself unable to move, footsteps approached.
Wulfe walked in, smiled at me, and said, "Morning, my unicorn. No pulling lines out; let me take them out without decorating the walls with your blood."
He was wearing a set of scrubs. He went to the sink, washed his hands carefully, used hand disinfection gel, and put on gloves.
Next, he collected a pile of swabs and a small syringe full of blood onto a tray and carried the tray next to my bed, saying, "Relax. I got this."
He tilted my head so he could very carefully loosen the cannula from my central vein and pull it out, pressing with several swabs at the same time. Like a medical professional, he took the tiny syringe as he had gotten the cannula in the tray, carefully lifted the swabs, injected a bit of blood, and watched. The cannulation site healed with the blood in the syringe. I could smell that it was Charles's blood. It was weird, but his blood did work on me, though usually they used Damon's blood.
The mere thought of that damned Salvatore instantly soured my mood, and I felt strange, as if something had profoundly changed within me. However, the drugs still clouding my mind prevented me from grasping what it was.
Wulfe walked to the part with the trash cans, disposed of the trash, then removed his gloves and washed his hands thoroughly, a testament to his extensive medical training. It seemed that the men around me invariably adopted a more clinical, doctor-like persona.
"How long have I been here?" I asked Wulfe.
He went to a cupboard, retrieved a pile of clothes, and brought them to me. "Six weeks. Now get dressed; let's go eat."
My perception of time was still distorted by the lingering effects of the drugs. I still entertained the notion that we were in another dimension.
Furrowing my brow, I struggled to calculate, "How long in the real world?"
Wulfe's voice held a hint of amusement as he replied, "I told you, six weeks. Now dress."
I took the clothes and, after a moment of consideration, suggested, "Maybe I could wash myself first?"
Wulfe looked at me steadily. "Really? Wash? Remember, no washing when you're doped up to your gills."
I nodded, slightly irritated but acknowledging his point. My body temperature would be too low, and with my thermoregulation compromised, washing was unwise. So, I began to dress.
As I removed my gown, Wulfe gestured, "There's a small partition there; you can dress there."
"Oh, fine," I responded, walking naked behind it.
I started to put on the clothes while Wulfe efficiently pulled out my linens and deposited them in the chute. Once dressed, I stepped from behind the partition to see Charles walking in. He smiled at me.
"Morning, honey. I see Wulfe has gotten you in order. Come on, honeypie, let's go eat."
Something about Charles felt different, but my mind was too sluggish to pinpoint it. I simply followed him, glancing around as we left the medbay.
Everything was just as I remembered it: the cabinets I used to climb to sleep when I was sick, my incubators – everything was exactly as it had been. I wasn't sure how much of it was a spell and how much was reality.
I turned to Charles and asked, "How long have I been here? I mean, in the real world."
Charles, a smirk playing on his lips, replied, "Six weeks."
We left the medbay, and the hallway was the same sterile white, with the familiar scent and the doors leading to various rooms. I remembered one room in particular, the one where Samuel had more or less raped me.
It had been part of my fantasy, fueled by my heat, but it was still an intense experience. Part of me wanted to open that door to see if it was real. But then again, if this were Charles's spell, he wouldn't know about it, and the room would be empty, confirming it was just another realm, a mere illusion. I wasn't ready to face that reality just yet.
The place was so familiar. As we turned toward the stairs, with their white planks, I recalled crawling up them for the first time when I had a fever, so long ago. Samuel had given me Damon's bone marrow then, completing my immune defense.
That was when I had been kidnapped, tortured, and gotten the infection and fever. It was the first time Damon had to take care of me; I was impossible back then. It was also the time he discovered he was a teeth vampire.
The past is a funny thing. Sometimes it's fun to recall, and then there are the not-so-nice memories, but I've learned to live with them. But with Wulfe next to me, holding my hand and pressing our scars together, our bond felt incredibly strong. I could feel him plucking out those unsavory memories, or throwing them into a corner of my mind where I couldn't access them. I felt Charles so clearly, too, our bond stronger than it had been in a long time. And Adam, he was cooking and feeling so damn smug. It was obvious, but why? I had no idea.
Soon, it would be time to face the world, to leave this wonderful place once again, and to start living my life for good—not as a "cunt," not as a victim, but as an alpha freaking female: strong, independent, invincible, and loved.
As we reached the top of the stairs, Adam was walking toward us, smiling gently. "Welcome home, baby," he said to me. "Let me show you around."
I furrowed my brow. "But this is another dimension, right? We'll be going back to our own soon?"
Adam smiled and replied, "No, honey, we are in the real world now. This house, this is our home. Come on, let's see."
I simply couldn't believe it; it seemed impossible. He walked with me to the lobby, down those three steps covered in dark red carpeting. He gave me shoes and a light coat, then opened the door, and we stepped outside.
This house wasn't the white plastered one I remembered, but one of red brick, and it too had a large porch with a huge swing and a dainty table, perfect for morning coffee. In the distance, as we walked around the corner, I saw two more houses, smaller than this one but still suitable for many people.
Charles pointed to the left one, a yellow house with white trimmings. "That's Salvatore's. They can stay there if they want. It's a replica of a castle in Ireland, a miniature version, but it has the most important things, though not your art pieces."
He then gestured to the other one, which was dark blue with black trimmings. "That's for the rest of the pack – Mimosa, Shadow, the men – if they need to have some wild time. And baby, we live in the main house. Of course, others can live there too if they choose, but we live in it, and I can tell you, my love, I am going to sanctify your bedroom properly."
Wulfe whispered in my ear, making me blush. "He ain't the only one, my unicorn. You do need physical therapy..."
His voice oozed seduction, and I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't say anything. They had recreated the most important house for me – for me, not for Mariella, but for me – and that was just so damn amazing.
As we toured the house, I noticed big glass doors in the living room, leading to a huge tree. It wasn't an oak like in the original Chicago house, but an elm, and it was just as big. In the distant forest, I could still recall how I first met Wulfe back then, how he had been programmed too.
It was late autumn, and the tree had shed most of its leaves. Somehow, I wanted to rake them; it would be so much fun, but maybe later. I had so much to see, and I was just overwhelmed by it all.
"We're actually in South Carolina, so this is our territory now," Adam explained. "But come on, baby girl, let's go inside. You can take a shower now that you're more sober while we get some food ready. The rest of the pack will be joining us, not the Salvatores, but others, and we still have a few things to discuss and tell you about."
I wasn't sure how many surprises I could handle at once, but it seemed I didn't have much of a choice.
*My room*, that thought popped into my mind, and I smiled to myself. Sure, it would most likely be, more or less, an exact replica of my old one, but not for long. It would be updated, or sanctified, whatever you wanted to call it.
And to my surprise, it wasn't a bad idea. I mean, once upon a time, I might not have wanted to sanctify my room with anyone else but Adam or Damon, but now... Charles, Wulfe, maybe Magnum, and others... hell, I was ready. It was time to live a life, to move on, and to embrace myself, my life, and to have pleasure, to have love. I damn well deserved it, every last bit of it.
We walked back to the door, and as I stepped onto the porch, Adam murmured in my ear, "My love, that swing needs to be sanctified, you know, quite passionately too."
Charles grunted, "Good thing it's large, fits three."
I shook my head, but I didn't mind. These two were all over me and seducing me, and there was nothing wrong with that. I needed to be seduced. I needed to feel beautiful, desirable, female, not like a cunt sitting in a cage in the ceiling watching Mariella being fucked 24/7. I had my rights, too.
We went inside. I took off my shoes; as usual, I had no socks – I hated socks. So, I walked barefoot, the flooring nice and cool beneath my feet, the carpeting soft and warm. As we got to the first floor, Adam walked up to my room and opened the door.
"I hope this suits you. I tried my best," he said.
I walked in, curling my toes in the long, tufted, bright pink rug, looking at my larger bed. There were two different nightstands, and the walls were painted in soft pinks, purples, and golden shimmers, not wallpaper. The colors were soft and blurred into each other. The ceiling had tiles with golden and black flowers, and there were obsidian tiles too, so shiny you could see yourself in them, not mirror-like as Damon used, but Adam had put his own twist on it.
I was still standing on the rug, curling my toes and enjoying the sensation, when Wulfe walked past me.
He flopped onto my bed, exclaiming, "Oh my unicorn, this is perfect! Come on, test it out with me."
I walked over to the bed and sat down, squealing with delight as suddenly Wulfe grabbed my waist, yanking me onto my back and kissing me.
"Hold your horses," Adam interjected. "We gotta eat first. Come on, let's go to the kitchen to get some food ready while Miss Perfect takes a shower and changes her clothes. And then, we can see what else is needed; who knows, maybe a sauna is in order later on."
I looked at Adam and smiled seductively. "No need for a sauna, you know," I said, "but yeah, I can take a shower and grab something to eat. I am ravenous."
Charles added, "I hope your appetite is wider than just for food."
I rolled my eyes. This was amazing, unbelievable, and like a dream come true. However, deep down, I knew I deserved every damn minute of happiness that was coming my way. It was new to me to believe that I, too, deserved to be happy, to be loved, and to be seduced this much.
It seemed I had received some kind of reward, or perhaps, just perhaps, I had finally suffered enough and it was time to enjoy my life. But as always, there was a "but." As the men walked out of the room, leaving me to take a shower, I sat and looked at my arm, at my tattoo—those bright red hearts bearing each Salvatore's number, my former five.
They were all broken. The hearts looked singed and bleeding, reflecting the broken heart I felt and which was literally displayed on my skin. My tattoo had grown, reaching almost to my shoulder, depicting me in a cage, dying in Bran's arms, our escape.
Another scene showed me on the ceiling, watching as the others were being loved, rehabilitated, while I was left hanging. Then there was me on the gym floor, broken and bleeding, Damon walking away without even looking at me.
This made me incredibly sad, as it wasn't my fault, or his, but the fault of those who kidnapped us, and especially Mariella's. Once again, she had ripped away everything I had built over so many years. She tore it all down, leaving nothing but bitterness, pain, and memories of what once was.
I sat there, hoping, almost praying, that someday she would be the one to work, to earn her keep, to stop being a princess, and most importantly, to acknowledge what she broke and what she took from me and from this pack. I wasn't necessarily seeking revenge, as I felt nothing for the Salvatores anymore.
Our love had stopped, dimmed. Was there even a connection between us? Did I even want one? I allowed myself five more minutes to contemplate these thoughts before heading to the shower, determined to shut that part of my mind completely and focus on sunshine, seduction, and love.