A few days had passed, and while several pack members were still engrossed in their bedrooms, engaging in intense fucking, just as I actually wanted them. I had been having my own kind of fun. I had devised new games for our online shop, which involved creating spell jars, a marble run game, and zodiac sign interpretations.
The girls had extensively researched various zodiac signs from around the world, allowing clients to choose the type of reading they preferred. Our spell jars contained chips and various safe herbs and plant parts, accompanied by detailed explanations for their selection.
One reason Damon might have been busy in the bedroom was that I had been planning these spell bottles, and I had even created one for him, packing it with chips that I suspected packed a punch.
Meanwhile, the girls were fully engaged with the spell jars, the marble run, and the zodiac interpretations. I, however, had a project of my own, and this time, I was determined that neither Adam nor Charles would interfere.
I had acquired and assembled the largest looms, preparing them and gathering all necessary materials. My inspiration came from the storage rooms, where I discovered nineteen boxes of high-end, thin silk threads. These threads were intended for hand-weaving on looms. With such a vast array of colors, I began creating my own cloth, unsure of its eventual use but captivated by its sublime, soft, silky, and beautiful texture.
The looms smelled of wood, and the silk possessed its own clean, earthy aroma. Its soft, silky texture felt almost alive between my fingers, so I handled it gently. The silk was incredibly thin, easily knotting and bunching up, so I took my time preparing the warp and weft, aiming to make the fabric as wide as possible.
I had other looms, a couple intended for rugs, but this one, designed for fabric creation and hand-operated rather than electronic, was perfect for my needs. Although electricity aids in many tasks, I preferred to do certain things the old-fashioned way, with my hands and without it.
The room itself had a distinct scent, likely from the abundance of spun yarns, these finer threads, and a few fabric types. While this wasn't our usual craft room, I had mentally christened it my "weaving room."
It was a truly wonderful process. I would typically work on this at night, as the girls looked after the babies during the day. The girls, too, were involved with the spell jars, marble run, and interpretations, even though they sometimes napped. We didn't always require extensive sleep, and as things eased up, perhaps we could rest more then.
Currently, I was sitting at my loom, weaving my cloth, when Mariella's voice crackled through the hive: "Mimi, my alpha, I need–no, we need to work on your energies and your mixing. I mean, I'm a lust queen when I need to be, but this is a bit much even for me."
I feigned innocence, asking, "What do you mean?"
Mariella's voice was tinged with boredom as she replied, "Well, your little spell jar packs a punch. You see, you've mixed your rage, your super-lust, and solar energy into it. Now, it's summer."
I grunted, still not fully grasping her meaning.
"Now, every time Damon gets sunlight," she began, "and this room doesn't have particularly thick curtains, it ignites your rage and superlust, and he takes it out on me. It's not that I dislike rough sex, but when his Salvatore rage ignites too, he literally tries to fuck my brain out, and there's no stopping him."
I giggled, unable to help myself. It was one of those awkward moments, I supposed, but I had to admit, her dry description was spot-on. I could picture Damon approaching Mariella like the Terminator, cock hard and ready, refusing to take no for an answer. Perhaps it was a lesson for Mariella too – not every encounter with Damon would be perfect.
I was already mentally crafting the next suitable mix, eager to see what would hit Mariella this time. I was feeling mischievous, and this was too good an opportunity to pass up.
A few days passed, filled with wonderfully sunny weather, and I couldn't help but smirk as I thought about their passionate nights. It was late afternoon, and I was sitting at my looms, weaving. I had made significant progress, but I aimed to create much more, as I could see so many applications for this fabric. It felt wonderful to the touch, and I had made it in four different pastel shades.
"Baby, what on earth are you doing?" a gruff voice inquired from the doorway.
My back was turned, so I simply replied, "I'm weaving with my looms, pure silk. I'm not sure where I'll use it, but it's damn wonderful."
Footsteps approached, and to my surprise, it was Number One.
He looked rather worn out and said, "Yeah, I bet it is. But Missy, my dear wife, Wulfe, Mariella, and a few Salvatores and girls are crafting a bit of stuff to limit your combination of energies. Let's just say I'm not feeling lustful at all right now, so well done. But now, move over, let me weave a bit too. You can be sure we have plenty of uses for this, as well as these looms. There are others, too. And don't worry, we teach everyone to prepare the warp and weft, and then they get to weave. Time, once again, for you to learn how to share."
I had little to say as he literally pushed me aside and began to weave himself, ensuring it was perfect.
He touched the ready-made fabric, grunting softly, and asked, "And what are these yarns?"
I replied, "Pure silk threads. I happened to stumble upon them, along with the looms, when I was sorting through those miscellaneous rooms downstairs. It's not really suitable for anything else, but for this. And, as you notice, it's not too fast to weave because it's so thin, but then again, it feels wonderful."
He grunted, then focused on weaving. "Well, take a stool and come sit by me," he said. "Let's do this together."
I was pretty damn surprised by his offer, but I grabbed a small chair and sat next to Damon. He passed a shuttle to me, and I had to pass it back to him. He made sure every movement was perfect, ensuring there were no loose spots and that the sides were as flush as possible.
"Well, for the next lot," he continued, "we need to dye the fabric in different colors. This is good for babies, but for adults, we need more dramatic colors."
I was surprised again, as I thought he wouldn't need my looms beyond this one session. However, it seemed he had a plan. He soon paused his work, using a bit of his magic. Golden strands shot from his fingertips, and suddenly, four more looms appeared in the room. This meant more of us could weave, use the looms, and learn how to prepare them.
Once again, my little hobby seemed to have turned into a pack-wide endeavor. I wasn't sure if others would even want to take part, but the thought of bringing toddlers here, both versions of them, made me groan internally. They would be everywhere and most likely mess up our work. Being a mother certainly wasn't easy.
Damon then said to me, "Your idea for spell jars is fun, but no more charging them for you. Now, we'll set some limits, and for good measure. We'll take your little mixes out and see if Mariella needs to separate them. We'll create rules or directions for those spell jars. Wulfe is the most eager, and the girls can then make videos. It's a good use for those tiny chips we have."
I just nodded. It had been fun to create my little surprises, and Damon's voice was a bit steely. He was less impressed with being used, even in such a manner.
He then said, "The marble run is great, as is your zodiac version. Wulfe has many ideas for those. But now, my dear wife, how many different threads and yarns do you have that can be used on these looms? I want to be aware of what we do next."
I replied, "I have no idea what's in the storage rooms, but I have normal stuff for rag rugs, as well as linen, and a few other types of yarn. Basically, we could make our own tweed. Though I'm not sure if anyone uses it, perhaps the kids, but then again, we could also sell it."
Damon remained silent as he delved into my mind, searching for an inventory of my materials. I could see and sense that he had many ideas, ranging from rag rugs to tapestries and cloths. He was even planning our pack's own fabric, stating he could do so. Sometimes he got excited about an idea, but I wondered if this would be a three-hour stint, a three-day stint, or if he had truly grown up enough to maintain it.
He started humming "Eternal Flame," and soon turned it into singing. I joined in, and together we wove our silk fabric. Again, I truly never would have believed this could happen. He just came by, and we would do something together, singing as we worked.
Perhaps there was still hope for us. I knew our bond had evolved considerably, but so had his and Mariella's. As she had found her true love, I was partially realistic, knowing this might not necessarily last. But then again, I wondered how jealous Mariella would be. Perhaps their recent encounter had made her want some time to herself, or to spend with other companions. Or perhaps she would want to be with the children.
As the song ended, I said to Damon, "Just think if Sadie and the others were to come here. I mean, it would be utter..."
His voice was quite dry, "Chaos. So, no, I am not letting them in here. I mean, first Sadie or the twins would find scissors and hack our warp and weft. Darien would try to climb on top of these. Dash would try to run around, hitting everything. Jesse and Luca would once again take out their clothes and run away, trying to eat everything, and the smaller girls would probably wail when the adults did not pay attention to them."
I smiled. It seemed he knew his children well, as they were his. Mariella had three of his, and the other six belonged to other Salvatores, as well as Adam, Charles, and Wulfe.
I was humming a Finnish song called "Stains in Paper" under my breath when Damon snatched the tune from my mind and joined in. As I delved into Damon's hive bonds, purely out of curiosity, I discovered a deep jealousy stemming from our trip to India with Wulfe. Even though years had passed, it remained a sore spot for him.
Furthermore, I sensed his active scheming regarding what Number Five had planned for me at Mississippi House, turning it into our sex nest. He was clearly trying to find ways to prevent such things from happening again, especially since we hadn't been to our Romanian sex nest in a long time, and he sometimes wanted to take me there.
Jealousy, I realized, manifested in many forms, and only the future would reveal its true meaning and our eventual destination. No doubt mistakes had been made, but perseverance and the refusal to give up were qualities that mattered most in our messy pack life.
Damon continued to hum different songs he'd taken from my mind, and sometimes we even sang together.
I had no idea how long we'd been engaged in this little ritual when Mariella's voice interrupted us. "Oh, there you two are," she said. "What are you doing here? We could use some help with the kids. Damon, I need you to check on Amber; she has a rash, and I'm worried she's caught a bug. Tiffany has a sore throat, and since Two and Four are with Mimi's smallest babies, they won't come and get a bug."
She was clearly lying through her teeth as she was jealous, but before I could say anything, Damon snapped at her, "Please, Mariella, stop lying. I can tell there's nothing wrong with your kids. You're just as jealous as I am when you spend time with Mimi. Two and Four aren't going to fall for your schemes, so don't even try with me."
Mariella fell silent for a moment before admitting, "Fine, I am jealous. I mean, when you've done something like this with me, I feel like I'm just a set of holes to you most of the time."
Damon, unwilling to concede, retorted in an icy tone, "And why is that, 'Ella? Perhaps if you behaved as a wife, not as a set of holes or a pussy with legs, someone might spend time with you. It's up to you how you behave, not on me or anyone else, but on you. Grow the fuck up."
Mariella, surprisingly, walked in and declared, "Fine, what are we doing? I've never even touched looms, so I have no idea how to do this."
Damon's lips curved into a thin smile as Charles entered.
He approached Mariella and said, "Well, I'll show you, and then you can be actually productive. We need cloths. I'll set you up with some towels and tea towels, but you'll be doing a lot of them, and then we'll cut them."
Mariella pursed her lips as Charles began to teach her how to prepare the looms, explaining what went where and how to adjust them. He made the setup quite wide, and then it would change colors at certain points.
Damon murmured in my ear, so Mariella could hear, "Baby, I'm not sure what we're going to do with our silk fabric. Maybe I could make some string panties for you."
His voice was so damn seductive, and I wasn't prepared for it, so I actually blushed. This made Damon laugh, a low, deep sound in his chest, and my body reacted. The flare of his nostrils told him he could notice it.
Charles was actually a pretty excellent teacher, far more patient than Damon. He took it slowly, showing Mariella why and how, so she could understand and get motivated. For her, it was exciting to learn new things again, and this was as fun as it gets. She was pissed off with "number one," and I knew why.
So, I said to Damon via our bond, "Want to know Mariella better? Let's check her strands. Here, these are her emotional strands, not stressors per se, but emotional ones. Touch this. She feels like you owe her an apology for using her. As my little combo hit you, she's still in her princess games, and part of her is still waiting for you to make amends."
Damon grunted and started to go through Mariella's strands. I let him; it would do the world of good for both of them to learn, get to know each other, and grow. Besides, I was once again diverting Damon's attention away from me; there was no need for him to start going through my strands.
Those were many of Salvatore's and Wulfe's favorite things to check out as well, but these emotional ones- I had told no one about them, not until now. So, this was the first time.
I was a bit surprised when a few more Salvatores walked in. Each of them took a loom and began to set up the warp and weft, all the while discussing and planning their next steps. There were larger looms for rugs and smaller ones for fabrics and other items.
I had been planning to make a scarf to use as a sling for my babies, and this idea caught Wulfe's attention.
He chimed in, saying, "Good idea, but we'll make those scarves. You can teach us how to use them, and I know you can use them for older kids too, so that will be one of the things we do. Then we can sell some creations, like tea towels and such."
Charles merely grunted, while Damon remained silent, clearly delving into my mind, both to figure out how to use the scarves and, I suspected, to examine my strands. When numbers five and two arrived, I could tell they'd had some telepathic discussion with number one regarding me, more or less.
This was just family life, something incredibly difficult for me to grasp. It meant I no longer had just my own little projects; instead, we were a family, and we did things together.
As we continued to weave, I let Jimmy Dean play in my mind, which made Damon hum, and soon he was singing along. Wulfe and the other Salvatores joined in, and even Charles began to sing. Damon tapped a rhythm with his leg, smiling at me as he sang and wove.
This was something I had never, ever imagined would happen to me. More and more, I was seeing this time in this pocket universe as a reward, not a punishment, and I smiled, singing along as well. Mariella was singing to Wulfe and Charles, and it seemed a bit of karaoke might be in order that night.
There would be no need for seduction, just singing and goofing off, because this was family life. For me, it was perfection. I felt so incredibly happy and free. Life was good, well, better than good.