The sun shone warmly, and I could smell fresh grass, hear birdsong all around me, and the rustling of leaves in the warm summer wind. Damon's hand was around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I could smell him; it was all I wanted. His tangy, passionfruit-smoky, burning scent spoke of his alpha side, of his wild winds and exotic flowers and plants. And I had it all. I sighed, leaned into him, and everything was so perfect, so damn perfect.
His voice murmured to me, "You know, Mimi, give me more. Let's combine more, be more mine. You don't need anyone else than me, right? Come on, give me more. Let your power be mine. Shh, baby, don't fight it, it's okay..."
Something felt off. I could feel him pulling my alpha power to combine with his, but it left me feeling weaker, more powerless. His dark croon told me to just relax. I did not need Wulfe, not Charles, not Adam – only him. He could be good to me as long as I behaved, so he wouldn't have to "teach me a lesson" in trying to be strong.
The forest seemed hushed; the birdsong faded. Damon's presence crept more and more into my mind, pulling at my powers, making it very hard to be myself, to feel myself. I could barely sense Wulfe, or Charles, or Adam anymore.
"Shush now, baby," he crooned. "See, number five is caring for Mariella. You know, she needs us. You must not be selfish. You must not try to hoard Salvatores, anyone other than me. You are mine, as long as you behave. This is pleasant, you leaning to me. Be my baby, let me make decisions for you. Come on, smell me, tell me it's time to breed. Mariella told me I was wrong last week, so she needs discipline. She needs to be pregnant. You'll be caring for our cubs. I want twelve weeks. I want Mariella fat and pregnant, so she isn't messing around with Wulfe."
I tried to move, but I could not. No, this was wrong. This was not supposed to be happening. NO!
I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, my body still heavy from a nightmarish dream. My breath came in ragged puffs, my heart hammered against my ribs, and my fingernails dug into my palms, stinging as blood seeped out.
"It was just a dream," I repeated like a mantra, "just a dream."
I kept it hidden, this lingering fear, from Wulfe, from Charles, from Damon, desperately trying to calm myself. If the monitors alerted, a horde of worried husbands would burst through the door.
We watched *The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring* last night. Afterward, Mariella, Adam, and Charles had gone to handle chores and care for the children, leaving me to sleep.
But as usual, when my mind started to churn and twist, these thoughts sometimes manifested as bad dreams or premonitions. Yet, I reminded myself, it was just my mind. I had a tendency to always anticipate the worst possible outcome. Despite the dream's disturbing nature, I tried to soothe my racing thoughts and shake it off.
I wasn't sure if Mariella had mentioned anything to Damon or Wulfe. I had been too sleepy to focus on reading much of the book, but perhaps I should have. At least, I thought, once I was in a more stable situation, I could delve back into it.
Scrambling out of bed, I waddled into the bathroom. The bright lights were almost painful to my eyes, and the cold porcelain of the toilet seat was a refreshing, albeit brutal, shock. At least it helped me fully wake up. After taking care of what I needed to, I washed my hands and met my reflection.
My expression was wild, as usual, but also filled with a palpable fear, a wariness that made me feel ready to bolt. I took several deep breaths, but they did little to erase the scared look from my face. Well, I suppose I would have to dissect that damned dream and try to make sense of it.
My belly was huge, even after liters of amniotic fluid had been removed. However, the babies were growing nicely, thanks to my power feeding. This significant weight, though, had thrown off my balance.
As I exited the bathroom, I encountered a subtle transition between the bathroom tiles and the luxurious cork flooring of the bedroom – a slight border, barely perceptible. My foot caught this tiny obstruction, sending me toppling.
I tried to stay upright, but my center of gravity was too compromised, and I landed heavily on my knees. Bracing myself with my wrists, I felt a hot, sharp pain shoot up my arm. My left hand gave out, causing me to fall forward onto my belly, striking my chin on the floor. The impact jolted my teeth, and pain shot through my jaw.
"Oh, fucking hell," I muttered.
I attempted to support myself on my hands again, but my left wrist was broken, and the pain was unbearable. My right hand struggled to support my bulk.
"Fucking shit."
I rolled onto my side, a searing pain lancing through my knees and my belly. Managing to push myself into a sitting position, I used my uninjured right arm.
"Well, at least I'm sitting. Oh, great."
I knew I had to get back to my bed somehow and hoped my healing abilities would mend any injuries. My jaws ached, and I could taste blood in my mouth. Had I bitten my tongue or knocked loose some teeth?
I shuffled clumsily across the floor, nearing the bed, and began to strategize how to get into it. It would be painful, but I'd have to push through it. As I got as close as possible, I slowly palpated my knees, trying to gauge which one was less sore. My right knee crunched nastily.
"Oh, fucking hell, had I chipped it?"
The left knee, however, was also problematic, especially with my left wrist already injured. This was going to be nasty. My plan was to get onto my knees and then somehow climb into bed. But just as I was about to roll over and attempt to get on my knees...
The door opened, and Ashley walked in.
She didn't see me at first and called out, "Mom, are you there? I need to show you..." Suddenly, she yelped, "Oh my god! Oh, wait up, let me get some help. What has happened?"
"No," I said to her, "just help me into bed. No need to fuss."
Ashley bit her lip. I was the alpha female, meaning she needed to obey me, but I was in a state where I might need a bit more than just someone to help me into bed.
"Fine," Ashley said to me, "what do you need?"
"Help me into bed," I replied. "Use energy or something, but my knees took a hit, and my left wrist is shot."
Ashley crouched next to me. "Your face is bloody," she said. "Did you fall or what?"
I nodded. "I went to the bathroom, and that damn thing between rooms hit my toes. I'm as balanced as a beached whale."
More footsteps were heard, and soon I smelled peach and passionfruit. Of course, Mariella and Damon walked in.
"Oh my god, Mimi, what happened?" Mariella almost screamed.
"She fell," Ashley explained, "and now she wants me to help her into bed. Her wrists are shot, knees are smashed, and as you see, her face is bloody."
Damon's voice was strained. "Fine, let's get you on the bed, and then we'll see what we can do. You know, baby," he continued, "we do have the hive. You could inform us when you take a tumble. No need to sit on the floor and try to do it all yourself."
I was trying to get on my knees, and Damon snapped, "Stop it! Do not make this any harder. By god, you are impossible!"
He wrapped me in energy and lifted me into bed using his telekinesis and energy, depositing me into a sitting position. He ran his hand over my knees, his palms emanating a warm, golden healing glow as he used his magic to fix my worst injuries.
He cast a spell to check on my babies and my uterus. There was no bleeding, but he remained tight-lipped, angry, and impatient. I stayed quiet, not saying a word. Mariella and Ashley stood aside, letting him work.
Finally, he said flatly, "Now your knees are fixed, as well as your wrist. The babies are fine. You just bit your tongue; it will heal."
Mariella brought me a warm towel so I could wipe my face.
Then he said, "Try not to do that again. You were lucky, relatively, this time. Stay in bed and ask for fucking help."
With that, he, Mariella, and Ashley walked away.
I leaned back. My position was awkward; some damn wrinkle was pressing on my hip, and my back hurt. Despite him fixing the bigger issues, my body had taken quite an impact, and I could feel aches and pains all over me.
I knew he knew about that bond thing, and he was furious, feeling trapped or something similar. Our bond, what he was trying to cinch closed, told me that much, and by God, it hurt. It hurt my soul so much, making me feel utterly worthless, a mere burden.
I was in an awkward position, my head throbbing. "Oh, great," I thought, "glucose must be dropping."
My body ached, and my soul burned. I shouldn't have told anyone about that, not a soul. It would have been easier, but I couldn't blame Adam or Charles. They, too, believed in love, as we had real love between us. Despite all the times Damon had hurt me, they just kept pushing us together. I guess Damon must have used mental manipulation to make them forget my pain. But this was just my life.
As my position grew uncomfortable, the babies in my belly woke up. They started to wiggle and writhe, kicking and moving, making me grunt, whimper, and cuss under my breath. Pain seemed to be an inescapable part of my life. Finally, I closed my eyes, exhausted.
My position was bad, but as the adrenaline faded and my aches and pains drained my strength, the babies finally stopped rearranging my insides. I let sleep come, or rather, I couldn't hold it back.
However, it offered no rest; it was a version of that nightmare, my fall. This time, Damon wasn't helping me up but left me crawling on the floor, telling me it was my fault and that I needed to learn humility and ask for help. Pains and aches hit me even in my sleep, making me whisper, toss, and turn, putting myself into even worse positions.
As the morning sun began to break through my curtains, I tiredly tried to correct my position. However, I ended up rolling out of bed again, just as I had throughout the night. My body jolted painfully as I hit the floor this time on my side, cracking a few ribs and my hip, which also made my pelvis ache.
"Oh shit, again, fucking hell," I muttered as I attempted to roll onto my hands and knees to get up.
Sharp pain shot through my side, forcing me to hold my breath. Damn ribs, damn stupid fat body, weak mind.
The door opened, and Wulfe stepped in.
"Oh my god, my unicorn, what happened?" he exclaimed as he crouched beside me.
His mind, sharp as a tack, plunged into mine, uncovering the events of the night as well as what I had learned from the book. His expression, his pale eyes, tightened, his breathing quickened, and he was clearly struggling to control his temper.
"Come on, let me help you up. I've already called Number Two and Number Four, telling them what happened,"
I managed to say. "My ribs took a hit, and I'm sore from last night. Damon mended my broken bones, but I was bruised, and he left me in a bad state."
Footsteps were approaching, and I could smell the Salvatores's unique passionfruit versions as they walked in. Their expressions were neutral, yet an overwhelming sense of love flooded towards me, like a tidal wave.
Number Four offered, "Okay, we'll help you up and ensure you're in a good position. Then, after we've attended to you, you can get some decent sleep; you're utterly exhausted. And yes, Number One is aware of the book, but that's not what's stressing him."
As Number Two and Wulfe were making my bed, Number Four assisted me, enveloping me in energy and lifting me from the cold, hard floor.
"God, I hate being this damn beached whale who falls out of bed and can't get up," I groaned.
Number Two reassured me, "Worry not; this is a temporary state. You'll have company soon. You see, Mariella's triplets have a supernatural version of chickenpox, and they're cranky, sore, and sick. At the same time, the girls are trying to keep your five away from them to prevent infection. However, as far as anyone knows, older girls can also contract chickenpox, which is stressful because everything needs to be impeccably sterile. Additionally, Mariella's babies, though awake in their incubators, are still frail. Even with their newfound immortality, chickenpox would be far too nasty for them. Damon is stressed about this. He was upset by your fall, and having just cared for those three sick ones, he's even more stressed about not infecting you. He was also scared because you broke your bones, and as an alpha male, he felt inadequate, frightened by that book. I guess he thinks you might see him as lacking," he explained.
The men fussed over me, ensuring every ache and pain was acknowledged. Number Two activated his pendant, allowing me no longer to mask my condition, while Wulfe reported to him the extent of my injuries. I was stripped, and my multiple contusions were noted.
Number Four then stated, "We can't heal everything. Firstly, those five inside you are siphons; they steal part of our healing energy. Secondly, your body might resist our magic. So, don't worry, I have painkillers ready. And with the feeding, you poor thing, you're so exhausted, you might drift off once the pain subsides."
Wulfe produced a glass, three capsules, and a tiny bottle that looked suspiciously like super-strong vodka meant for supernaturals. I had previously made him drunk as a skunk in Australia, and it seemed he was returning the favor.
He emptied three capsules of dried blood into the glass and poured the whole damn bottle over them.
The blood dissolved quickly, and he handed it to me, saying, "Bottoms up. Now, this is actually good for you, as alcohol has a lot of energy, and that blood is strong. Go on, get buzzed, show me you can handle this."
"Fine, sure I could," I thought. "I mean, I was hypermetabolic, right?"
I took the glass and took a good swig. It burned like hellfire as it went down, causing me to grimace as the heat settled into my belly.
My mind began to relax, and Wulfe said, "Go on, take another swig. Surely you are not going to pass out from that, right?"
Oh my god, he knew just how to challenge me, and properly too.
I took an even bigger swig, grimacing again, but soon took one last swig, emptying the glass. The heat warmed me internally, and soon aches and pains faded, replaced by pleasant relaxation. Oh, I was buzzed, and then some.
Soon, the warmth turned into pleasant drowsiness, and I couldn't keep my eyes open. I wasn't moody and broody like usual when drunk, but rather sinking into this nice warmth and painlessness, almost euphoria.
This was rare for me, as my body didn't typically experience much euphoria from drugs or booze, but now... I passed out in the middle of a thought as the damn cocktail hit my brain like a freight train.