I opened my eyes, attempting to move again. This was still difficult, as I was mostly confined to bedrest. However, I was now permitted to sit on the edge of the bed, eat, and walk short distances. My pelvis was improving, but it remained very fragile, requiring me to take it easy.
Yet, having grown accustomed to lounging in bed, getting up and walking was not precisely what I desired. It was painful, arduous, and tiring. Nevertheless, Adam and Charles were relentless; they insisted I walk four times a day with support, stand on my own, sit for three hours, and move my legs. At night, I was usually sedated and fixed in position.
Mariella had left, and Number One had stopped visiting. This was no surprise, but it didn't mean I was without Salvatore's company. My "five"—meaning two, four, five, nine, and ten—practically lived with me, and others visited too, though they were busy.
My children had been released last week, and their rehabilitation also took time. Despite this, I was already improving; everything was going well, and I was healing. Perhaps I could move forward and care for my four little ones who were still in incubators.
My five oldest toddlers were occupied with their dads, as well as their younger siblings, who were walking, running, and attempting to eat everything in sight, thereby getting to be big siblings.
Wulfe slept beside me, his arm thrown over me and pressed very close. He was still deeply asleep as I tried to wiggle, discovering what position I was in. I was partially on my side, my legs once again fixed in a position to aid my hips' healing and prevent adhesions. It was early morning, and I was idly contemplating the entire situation.
Number Three had informed me that among the casualties, five of my clients had died. Additionally, Bertha's niece, the oldest of the crones, had perished; her niece had been very important to her. Then there was Jules's injured brother-in-law. He was one of the men who had made wood for us. His brother-in-law was now in a wheelchair, paralyzed from the neck down, facing a difficult life despite having small children.
The damage to our town was immense, and it would take years to fully repair. The roads, in particular, were in poor condition in many places, requiring new pavement. This was an exceptional situation, not part of scheduled maintenance, and the town had to request aid from the state, whose budget might be tight.
The trucking company attempted to shirk responsibility for the poorly maintained roads. However, drug tests administered to their drivers revealed that over 45 percent tested positive. Furthermore, a police investigation uncovered that more than 60 percent of their drivers had falsified their resumes and driving histories.
As I squirmed, Wulfe finally stirred, muttering, "Not yet. Try to sleep."
I told him, "I'm awake; I don't need to sleep all the time."
He mumbled something sleepily, and soon exhaustion claimed me, his sleeping spell pulling me back into unconsciousness for a few more hours.
When I awoke again, Wulfe was no longer beside me. I felt drugged and heavy. Glancing around, I realized I was no longer in the medbay but in one of my bedrooms. Something had clearly been done to me; my head felt stuffed with cotton wool, and it took a while for me to open my eyes and decide whether to stay awake or go back to sleep. However, my natural aversion to drugs won out, and I struggled to keep my eyes open, attempting to move.
As I groaned in bed, the door opened, and Numbers Five and Eight entered, smiling.
"Morning, baby," Number Eight said calmly. "Time for breakfast. Let us help you sit up a bit better, and then you can eat, followed by a shower."
Number Five looked at me sharply and added, "We will explain everything. Now, be a good girl and obey."
He seemed tense, and I had no idea what was happening.
My husbands came to either side of me, helping me into a sitting position so they could place a tray on my lap and assist me with eating. Both then came to lie next to me in bed, watching to ensure I ate.
I was given small pieces of meat in a rich sauce, followed by chopped steaks, plenty of coffee, and Coke. My loving husbands not only ensured I ate but also fed and drank me themselves.
Number Five stated, "Wulfe discovered your hidden spot where your syndrome was churning like it was the last day. It took us three days to address it, and then we decided you could move out of medbay. Now it's time for some loving therapy and some rest, and then recovery will happen even more. Wulfe was quite upset, even though he understood you. He made new potions, binding us even more to each other, so no more hiding your insecurities and trying to build almost a literal bomb in your mind."
Oh, well, I had had my own thoughts and whatnot, and it was still so hard for me to believe there were Salvatores catching me, loving me to bits. Perhaps it was partially because of the past, but maybe it was just a habit for me not to trust anyone to be there for me when things got rough, or then I had just assumed that they would be busy with everything else.
This was my ultimate sanctuary bedroom, but it had been enhanced with a lot of security and loving pheromones from the Salvatores, as well as from Wulfe, Adam, Charles, and the boys. Therefore, this was no longer just mine; it was ours, and it felt wonderful.
Number Five pressed closer to me and fed me, letting his unbridled love shine through our bond like a blazing wildfire.
Number Eight said, "For me, this is something I thought I would never get. After all of my wrong choices; my excuses, not choosing you but others, and then in the past my cruelty towards females, I just thought I was a lost cause emotionally and that emotions were a weakness. Every time you smiled at Adam or Charles, my heart shrank a bit more, as I was jealous, but I knew I didn't deserve you, not after all I did to you, how I treated you."
I replied, "Well, it's all in the past, you know. The future is for us, and whatever it may be, it is ours, and Mariella has no say in it."
Number Five looked at me a bit sheepishly and said, "Well, we are sort of exiled from her. She is once again digging into her savior side and wants us to talk, as Number One has an obsession with balancing energies. He is actually crafting these spell bottles with Wulfe, which should help with our energies. We aren't too keen on that, nor on facing Mariella's questions about our motives, so we decided to care for you instead."
I smiled again and said, "Sure, and I guess our children are keeping you busy as well," as I fished out a piece of eggshell from my scrambled eggs.
Eight said, "Yeah, they helped to make breakfast for Mommy, but they are busy, as Adam and Charles are still making sure their fitness is good, and my love, you will get some exercise as well, but not in the gym, not at all..."
Now there was quite a naughty glint in number five's eyes, promising some physical recovery therapy in bed with passionate males. And it was one of the best ways of getting myself into decent shape; after all, this had taken quite a while again, and my body had taken a huge hit. Healing had happened, but my muscles were dormant or inactive and needed some stimulating.
And then there was my little bout of my syndrome trying to flare up. As it had been rough for me to be in a medical setting despite everything done to me to feel as safe as possible, I had my neuroses, and I had to be strong. And it had fueled my syndrome, as when it whirs on, the first thing I usually do is hide the fact I am struggling. So my syndrome could deepen pretty nastily before anyone would get a whiff. I was more or less a master of hiding it in new places in my mind.
Now I felt quite heavy, with a bunch of spells from Wulfe actively seeking and mapping my mind. Leaving kinds of tags in every nook and cranny, alarms, so if I tried to hide something there, he would know. And there were also spells, similar to numbers two, four, five, nine, and ten, all making nests in the depths of my mind.
My syndrome, in short version, was a state where I felt I had to be strong, or I would be the strongest. Thus, no one could be there for me, and I had this need to show outside I was fine, I was the strongest, and there was nothing wrong with me.
Internally, my mind knotted itself into knots and blind knots over my past mistakes, my blunders, missed opportunities, and my faults as a female, as a wife, as a partner, and even as a mom, and it all affected me, as, outside, I was productive, always moving, always doing something, but internally I was messed up more and more all the time.
Treatment? Love, in the past Charles had taken me to sleep next to him, in his arms, and it took a bit of time before I fell asleep properly, and then my mind usually calmed down, but it might have taken, in severe cases, a few weeks of sleeping in his arms. Adam knew this syndrome as well; he had been the first ever to notice it, and they had kept it from Damon for years.
And now in the last 10 years or so, Salvatores had really started to dig into my syndrome, as well as Wulfe, and now it was actually recorded in my medical file, permanently, with a very detailed list of symptoms, treatment, and who to contact if, say, my people in the real world would suspect me to have it on.
So Salvatores took it very seriously when I had an even milder version of my syndrome. And it had not been so mild, and they had gotten quite protective, loving, and caring, which was new to me, well, kind of new. I had gotten used to it in the past few years that we had spent in their pocket universe.
As we were lying there and I was eating or being fed the rest of my breakfast, the door opened, and Mariella, Britney, and May walked in.
"Morning, you guys. Ooh, you are cute," Mariella said as she noticed number five glaring at her.
She was in the mood to get a rise out of the Salvatores, and I rolled my eyes.
She continued, "Well, how about we help you, our alpha female, to take an actual shower and make the bed? Boys can go and have their own breakfast then, and you get to see your shrimps. Yeah, they are quite shrimpy yet, not yet coming out of incubators even though they are immortal. Well, according to our medical team, it is safer for them to keep on growing in an incubator where everything is stable than to face harsh temperature changes and whatnot; this way they grow best."
Her voice was overly chirpy, and there was this certain smile on her face.
But I was feeling a bit bitchy, and I said, "Number eight," via our hive, "Now, she is trying to rile you up. How about you flip the script? Just think."
He looked at me and smiled and said to Mariella, then calmly but arrogantly, "Now, for her shower, use rose and lilac-scented thicker shower soap, one in a red bottle, water temperature at least 102°F, and no rough scrubbing. If she is itchy, tell us; we will get something for her skin. It is kind of delicate. Use the dark mauve towel on her hair, wrap it up right as she has wrung it out, and then the longer white bathrobe with the belt cinched properly; do not let her cool."
Mariella snapped her mouth shut, and a smile ran away from her face.
As number five noticed this, he added fuel to the fire. "Now for her bed, use bedding from that big dresser; it is pheromonized. Put everything in the laundry, including mattress covers and bedding mattresses. New ones are on the lower shelf; they should be suitable as well. Color-themed bedding should be there so it's not too hard to choose what to use, and oh, replace the pillows. Put these into laundry; we wash them and maintain them, but she needs some brand new pillows. I think they should be in that dresser too."
Mariella was not so keen to listen to orders from arrogant bastards, but it was what it was; she asked for this, and I had just given my boys some tools to deal with her. No more her ruining our perfect morning; well, if she wanted to serve, sure, the Salvatores could give orders for what was needed.
Number eight added, "And keep it brief or make sure she sits; she is kind of wobbly still and might not be able to stand for too long. We will fix her hair then."
Mariella nodded stiffly and moved to the bathroom to reserve what was needed while the girls went to the dresser and took their supplies too. She too was about to learn what it was like to be part of Salvatore's pack, not just as Damon's doll but as the actual wife of them all.