Lying on my bed, I pondered what movie to watch tonight, as evening had already arrived. We had finished dealing with the snakes, and with so many people helping, the work went quickly. Once I got everything in order and followed my instructions, the Salvatores, who were reluctant to sell all the snakes, focused on making room for our larger ones, preferring not to keep them in overly small enclosures.
The eggs were another matter entirely—a complete mess—but we managed to sort it out. Ten curious telepaths kept poking around in my head, seeking snake knowledge, and because there were several new clutches, I didn't even get a chance to put them into the incubator. As for the results, the Salvatores had relabeled some of the snake boxes, replacing labels I had originally written, and Mariella even acquired a small printer to create new ones.
Now, having been fed almost hourly as soon as I could manage to eat something, I was incredibly full. Despite this, I had a large bowl of chilled fruits, pots of coffee, and Coca-Cola with me, adhering to my consumption quota. Damon checked on me from time to time.
Regarding the jealousy apartment, the Salvatores had learned how to use our washing machines, and after Number Five washed my clothes, they eagerly volunteered to do more laundry. Innocently, all of my bedding was washed, my mattress was dry-cleaned, and my room was thoroughly cleaned as they tested all the cleaning equipment, since the magic house's cleaning service wasn't available. They preferred not to use spells, as this was more enjoyable.
While Number Five rolled his eyes, he whispered, "Mimi, my baby, this just means we get to do it all over again..."
He wasn't quite ready to let me go. Mariella was back to the business of identifying girls as suitable targets for chatting and listening, with a few Salvatores nearby, subtly encouraging them to talk.
My bed was incredibly luxurious, as I had acquired the best beds and mattresses with the latest technology to maximize my comfort. The memory foam gel and water mattress felt like a cloud, while silk sheets caressed my body. The temperature was pleasantly cool, and the air circulated gently, as I didn't want stagnant air.
Being pregnant, I felt everything intensely, perhaps even too much. Therefore, I was trying to make my bedroom as perfect as possible. As I was overfed and feeling sluggish, warm, and limp, I wasn't sure if Number Five would come to offer me dessert.
Just as I was debating what movie to watch next, Emmylee walked in. This wasn't unusual; the girls often came in to spend time with me, watch movies, bond, and share our opinions on them.
She flopped down next to me and, seeing that I was choosing Wolverine 2, she commented, "Oh, time for these then. I liked Deadpool; it's goofy as hell, but I liked it. These are a little more serious."
"A lot more serious, but good," I replied. "Besides, I need to wait at least a week before delving back into Marvel movies, even though I just watched Infinity War and Endgame again."
She rolled her eyes, settled into a more comfortable position, and asked, "What are you thinking about Daddy? I mean, he's doing well himself, but then again, how he treated you..."
I answered, "You see, my girl, I've always told him to move on, not bury his head in the sand and give up. I've told him that I don't need talk; I need action. And it seems he's been listening. Sure, it looks a little weird that he just comes and acts, but it cuts out this stupid phase of talking and making things worse. Do you get what I'm saying?"
She furrowed her brow and said, "Maybe, but then again, wouldn't you want an apology, an explanation, something?"
I replied, "It's just useless, and if you start talking and explaining, chances are you're going to screw things up again. I've been there, and believe me, this is better. I try to react, I try to show him what I need, what I want, but I'm not perfect, and there's constantly this nagging voice in my mind saying, 'You're not doing enough, you won't get him, Mariella has him.' My girl, life isn't as simple as it is in movies or books." My voice was calm, but held a certain weariness.
As the movie started, she pondered what I had said, and we watched for a while.
Then, out of the blue, she asked, "Mom, do you see yourself as like him? I mean, with the rage and everything?"
I blinked, and my answer was this: "Not exactly. I'm not made of metal, and I don't have claws, but the whole rage aspect? Sure. However, I don't see myself as volatile as he is. God, I couldn't lead my organization if I were constantly pissed off and using violence all the time. So, no, I'm not Wolverine. When I was young, maybe I mostly saw myself as Rogue, not because I couldn't touch anyone, but because I wasn't social. I liked to be on my own, so it just clicked, or maybe she was just a cool-looking chick, I'm not sure."
She nodded as the movie continued, and I realized she was thinking something over. This must be pretty damn new to them, too. I should remind Mariella about that, that the girls aren't accustomed to our chaos, and it might be overwhelming for them, so maybe she would have a nice little project focused on the girls, surely keeping her busy, too.
Emmylee then said, "I can go with you to church in the morning, hear the latest gossip, and besides, the churches are pretty; it's good to be part of the community."
I nodded and said, "I'm not sure how many of us are going. I'm not sure if the Salvatores or Mariella is in the mood. She has morning sickness too, and she's starting to realize she's pregnant; it takes time to adjust, as this is all so slow, and there will be tons to do before the babies are born."
I recalled just how wonderful it was to watch them grow and learn new things. Now they would be with me for over ten years, twelve years, and maybe more. I wasn't sure if they would want to go anywhere once this was over, but it wasn't the time to ponder that just yet.
I said to my daughter, "Tomorrow we have a barbecue, probably the first of many, and a family meal. I'm not sure how long I am the pack leader, or how long Charles is. Damon can seduce Charles so easily, and he has long experience as being the pack leader, but I still have my doubts. He's volatile, impulsive, and this... this needs maybe a little more stability. I have tried to make things work but this is just very start."
She nodded, and we were quiet for a while, watching the movie, and then we started to dissect the effects as well as how accurate the injuries were. Were they so lethal or not? It was fun; not everything needs to be so damn serious.
As Mariella and Damon walked through the house, they explored its many rooms. Huge storage rooms overflowed with Mimi's orders, while others were simply labeled. Mariella sighed, regretting that she hadn't been part of the planning stage.
However, they had made their choice, and this was the consequence – just another lesson. Now, the future stretched before them, perhaps more clearly mapped out than ever before, offering a chance to truly make things work, to be a family.
Yet, Mariella was scared. She had mostly been Damon's toy, his wife, and occasionally, when it suited her, a mother. But now, motherhood was no longer optional; it was a necessity. Despite having their four fully grown daughters with them, it was still daunting.
Mariella envied Mimi, not for having number five, but because motherhood seemed easy and natural for her. Mimi was loving it, excelling at it, while Mariella felt like she was constantly stumbling in the dark, unsure of how to be the best role model.
Damon wrapped his arm around her shoulders and reassured her, "We'll be fine. We have time to figure things out. It's easier with only three, and we have plenty of help caring for them. Even with Mimi having five, that's only eight, and there are many more adults here to help. And who knows, maybe this will be fun, since we have no other options." He added, "Besides, we can spy on Mimi, her habits, her baby room, what she's reserving."
Mariella sighed and suggested, "I think you, my love, should go and see her. Leopard is still being mischievous and sent me a snippet of Mimi in her bedroom, which the Salvatores have deep-cleaned, watching movies with Emmylee and talking. How would Mommy and Emmylee react if Daddy joined movie night? Besides, my love, you're packed."
She pressed Damon's belly, feeling his bump bag, full because he had inhaled Mimi's pheromones, causing his body to create a perfect bump for her. Mariella felt no jealousy; Mimi could do one unleashed hurricane called Damon in her bed.
Damon, designated number five, appeared to be in the stage Mariella described as "head over heels." This meant that while he would fuck with Mimi, he wasn't dominating her or acting like a "hurricane." Lust was Mariella's language, and she felt like Mimi needed some domination in bed.
Number five was not dominating but loving her; it was nothing bad, but Mimi needed boundaries; otherwise, she would be like a giant snowball rolling down the hill, getting bigger, gathering momentum all of time, and Charles or Adam was not enough to stop her, not even Wulfe could control her.
Mimi, feeling confident as the pack leader, found herself able to exert some dominance, which in turn meant Damon would "fuck her silly," fulfilling her with his bump, nourishing her. And keeping Snowball under control, making sure she would meet a brick wall. Mariella had also sensed Damon's worry, not only for her but also for Mimi, as his morning sickness seemed to make the Salvatores quite edgy.
Mariella was absorbing a wealth of new information, intensifying her emotions but also leaving her significantly more uncertain about the future. It was as if a clear path had transformed into a mountain, presenting a challenge she was eager to undertake and use to gauge her strength.
Yet, she questioned whether she was capable enough. Simultaneously, she realized it was time to learn how to live within a family, not just in Damon's shadow, acknowledging that others besides Damon could offer support.
As Damon headed toward Mimi's bedroom, which he had already mentally christened "his and hers," he paused near the door, overhearing a hushed conversation.
Emmylee was asking Mimi, "Mom, I know you've been killed by assassins like a million times, but did they regret it? I know, I've heard stories, legendary stories of your lessons, but did they, I mean, regret their actions?"
Mimi's voice sounded almost sullen.
Damon relayed this to Mariella, who simply responded, "Keep listening. Trust your gut. If you sense Mimi isn't happy, go in and interrupt."
Damon grunted, acknowledging his own growth. The whole family dynamic had shaken him up considerably, especially since it hadn't started smoothly, and he hoped he could make it work.
Mimi replied, "Yeah, me and my lessons. I'm sure some of them thought twice the next time, but you see, when you're an assassin, you don't use emotions. Killers don't regret; otherwise, it would be impossible for them to do the job."
Emmylee was silent for a moment before pressing on. "But surely, when the truth came out, some of them must have realized their mistakes."
Damon grabbed the handle, twisted it, and opened the door. "Oh, hello girls, what's going on? Oh, movie night, count me in! What are we watching?"
He stepped inside, projecting relaxation and confidence.
He walked to the bed and flopped down. "Oh, Wolverine! Oh, this is the Japan story, yeah, this is intense, I mean, a good movie."
He moved slightly closer to Emmylee, who then moved closer to Mimi. Mimi sighed softly.
As Damon walked in and flopped onto the bed, I was a little surprised, to be honest. But then again, he was here and wanted to watch a movie and spend time with us, which was fine.
I squeezed Emmylee closer and teased her, "Ooh, look at you, you're here between Mommy and Daddy watching a movie. Are you jealous?"
She was a little surprised too, but took it in stride and said, "Mommy, focus on me, not on Daddy. Now is not the time to kiss and cuddle, not when I'm here."
Damon pulled her into his arms as well and kissed the top of her head. "That's Daddy's girl. Come on, let's continue with Wolverine. Baby, we are not going to watch yet another Marvel movie after this."
I smiled and said, "No, I was planning on watching *Aquaman 2*."
Damon rolled his eyes and said, "You and your superhero obsession. I am here, your real-life superhero. No need to worship actors when you could worship me."
Oh really?
Damon said to Emmylee, "I think, young lady, you should go back to your room once the movie ends. Daddy's gonna give Mommy some dessert, and you are not going to get any."
His voice was so damn seductive, making Emmylee blush slightly, not to mention me. I rubbed the back of my head; my hair was still in a tight ponytail-like bun, and I had planned to shower or bathe later, but it seemed my plans had just upgraded or changed.
Then I remembered him really licking my pheromone gland, and I realized he must be quite ready to give me that damn dessert. The only question lazily rolling around in my mind was whether I would be in any shape in the morning to go to church or if I would be thoroughly exhausted and sleeping like a log. But, well, there would surely be other Sundays if this one were skipped.
Damon rolled Emmylee over so he was next to me, and he pulled me into his arms, saying, "You know, girls, lying here with my wife and daughter next to me, watching movies, is not a bad place to be. It's a damn good place to be."
His hands were somewhat restless as he mapped my body with his fingertips, his voice calm in my mind. "You know, baby, I heard what Emmylee asked, and I know it was hard for you. Next time—hell, there isn't going to be a next time—you don't have to dig that shit out. Wulfe was less happy; he's working again on your mind."
I replied to him via our telepathic link, "You know, surely some of the times were nasty, and I'd rather not remember them, but there were a few fun ones—well, considering dying is never fun, but still, they were almost comical."
"Do not think about them," he said, his voice still gentle but now firmer. "Nope, we're not going there at all. Leave them be and focus on the movie."
Then, speaking aloud, he continued, "You know, both of you, I'm not perfect. But this, this is something that I once believed I could never have. I know lust and sex can and will distract me and make me blunder. But never doubt my love for you. Despite what I say—and as you probably know or soon will—my superpower nowadays is talking without thinking, using words as a weapon. I can and do lie a lot, so don't take everything I say at face value. I mean, cruel things sometimes."
He then flooded us with his true love, leaving us without any doubt.
I pondered things aloud and replied, "And I, I am too quiet. I don't say it often, if ever. Still, I do love you, all of you. I have tried to learn to express my feelings more, but I am just in the phase of learning to feel them. Expressing them to others takes a little more time, so bear with me. I might seem cold and distant, but it is just my defense mechanism."
Emmylee chimed in, "Wow, you two! You can do it! When it comes to big confessions, I am just so damn lucky to have parents like you. I think others will be so jealous once they learn about this."
She then added, "Did you know, Daddy, that Mommy thinks she is more like Rogue than Wolverine? But for me, she is Wolverine—tiny, angry, and sharp."
This made Damon laugh out loud.
Quipping in a deadpan voice, he said, "Well, I am Professor X, not in a wheelchair, but I am the telepath, the wisest of us all, teaching you."
I had to add, also keeping my voice calm, "And that would make Mariella, well, a Magneto."
This made Damon laugh even more as we continued to goof off, giving pack members' new identities as X-Men. These were good times, and I was enjoying them very much. I wondered what would come after this movie, which seemed never-ending, as Damon's hands were even more restless now under my clothes.
This made me sigh, and Emmylee rolled her eyes, saying, "Geesh, wait for the movie to end before getting into business, will you?"
She was talking like a teen, making Damon smirk. Meanwhile, my body was preparing itself oh so carefully, everywhere. Soon enough, the heady scent of my arousal—strawberries and champagne—wafted in the air. Oh yeah, the night would be pretty wild. It seemed I was getting my bed of roses, and then some.