Number One furrowed his brow as he pondered. The past few weeks had been grueling and busy, but finally, there was no more physiotherapy for Mariella or Mimi, and no more constant worry about their recovery.
The babies were still in incubators, as their feeding was a bit lacking; they now had the stamina to feed two whole meals per day, but being supernatural, they needed more. The babies were about 36 weeks old, and it would take perhaps a week or two for them to grow a bit more and get stronger.
He wanted to do better by Mimi. He could feel their bond and was just wondering what he could do, where he always strayed, and why their relationship was so uneven. Yet, she had made rich, loving relationships with so many Salvatores, making Number One feel that he was lacking in some way, as he just couldn't seem to do that. Was it just Mariella, or what?
He was sitting in the downstairs living room, which Mariella and her girls had revamped. They had changed Mimi's sophisticated color palette into something more clashing and altered the chairs and their positions, as well as the sofas. It didn't make it any better, perhaps slightly worse, but this was home, and not everything in a home needs to be perfect. That's life with all its imperfections.
As he sat there, pondering, Number Two, Nine, and Ten walked in. They grunted softly as they sat on one huge, sinking mauve leather sofa. They had been on baby duty, meaning they had just fed those shrimps and made sure they were okay.
He just asked or pondered out loud, "Why does she love so many Salvatores, yet we have our troubles? We have a bond like nothing I have ever felt, but is it Mariella? Is it her? Is it me? What? Is there anything I can do better?"
Number Two grunted. "You're talking 'bout Mimi?" he lazily drawled, making Number One nod.
His hair flopped into his eyes, and he brushed it away with an impatient sweep of his hand.
Number Ten said, his voice as crisp and sharp as ever, "Well, you are afraid of her. She knows it and uses it against you. And why, you might think? Just remember, you have in your hands the strongest alpha female there is—stubborn, cunning, and not wanting to roll over and surrender. She knows her job, and she does it well. For her, you are most of the time a hindrance, something that might block her things and stop her, and it is something she does not allow. So, she makes you back the fuck off."
Number one, his brow furrowed in contemplation, was trying to understand.
Number two, however, offered a different perspective: "We know her intimately, and we are not afraid. In fact, living with her means surrendering to your love for her. After all, she is a creature of love. And once you understand her, you can even use it to your advantage, for you know her ultimate weakness: us, the Salvatores. So, in essence, we charm her, love her, learn her ways, and live together. Yes, she can be bossy, but this is family, not a military unit."
Number one rubbed his forehead, acknowledging the valid points made by number two, yet questioning if the approach was too lenient.
Number two then suggested, "Let's go upstairs, and I'll show you. It's not about being soft or hard; it's about living as a family, getting to know her and her quirks."
His voice softened slightly as he spoke of Mimi. There was such a deep love in his eyes that it made number one want that too.
Number two then said, "Of course, being near her adjusts our bodies for her and also helps us learn more about pheromones. She explained to me once that it is hard for her to identify what she smells in each pheromone because everyone has their own unique sense of smell, and the way our brains interpret scents differs. So, she might perceive a scent as roses, whereas I might detect jasmine or lily of the valley. What we do is smell and keep an eye on her. For example, number eight smelled her pheromones while keeping his telepathy active, along with his clinical side—checking if she was nauseous, dizzy, or if her scent changed. Why? Was she reminiscing about something, or was there something wrong with her?"
This made number one think even more. He could grasp the idea but also recognized how slow the process might be. Then again, they had time—they were immortals. All he would have to do was be patient, learn to interpret smells, and he could do the same with Mariella, gaining even more power over her.
Number one realized that past experiences and Mariella's influence had shaped his perception of Mimi, leading to ingrained behavioral patterns. He decided it was time to move beyond that. He wanted to truly know Mimi and perhaps build a decent life with her. Despite everything, he loved her, and it was time to act rather than overthink.
He grunted, "Fine, I'm ready. Show me, and let's see what I can do."
As the men rose and made their way back upstairs to Mimi's wing, Damon continued to ponder. Mariella, meanwhile, was occupied with Adam and Charles in the yard, engaged in a spring project, so she wasn't involved. When number two finally opened the door to the wing, Damon felt an unexpected desire for it to remain closed, preserving the wing's distinctiveness—a home within a home, Mimi's sanctuary.
He inhaled the sweet strawberry scent permeating the air, a blend of Mimi's essence with a subtle tang of blackberry, her territorial fragrance. Number one, then dabbed behind his ears, infusing his fingertips with the scent of raspberries, his own scent, and brushed them near the door, marking it as his as well.
Seven, Lepard, and Wulfe were in the kitchen, cooking, as they walked by. Further on, the gleeful shouts of children could be heard, with the older girls amidst a sea of them.
Number Two said, "This way, she is here, having her own time." his voice was softer, and he spoke lazily, but dangerously as usual.
They proceeded along a corridor until they reached light beech-colored double doors with a bronze knob. Number Two opened them, revealing a large lounge once again. A fireplace, a few sinking sofas, and a nice set of rugs were present. Dusky pink, satin curtains shimmered in the windows, their color the lightest blue, almost white. Mimi herself was sitting in one of the chairs, with a small table next to her, and she was doing wire wrapping.
She was wearing a dress patterned with pink and red flowers on a black base. It was a stretchy dress, and on her feet were fuzzy slippers. Damon realized they were made of real rabbit fur, and he thought they could be so warm for him too.
Her face showed concentration, yet a slight tang of raw strawberries suggested she was frustrated about something. Her hair was done, and though her fingers were nimble and skilled, something wasn't working for her. She sighed impatiently at the tiny jewelry in her hands. She was still on the thin side, but she was well-fed, protected from nightmares, and ensured she would get enough rest.
I, Mimi Salvatore, alpha female of our pack—which is currently quite large, as we have many children—was just fulfilling a few orders for our online shop when the Salvatores walked in.
I said, lifting my gaze. "Am I needed somewhere, or what brings you by?"
Number Ten came to sit near me and replied, "Actually, baby, I wanted to ask you about something that happened a few days ago. You see, I was on my way to do the adults' laundry when May and Lily were already in the laundry room for the kids' clothes."
I grunted as I carefully tried to bend a piece of flat wire around a piece of larimar. It was pretty stone but damn awkwardly shaped, making this even harder for me to do. This design was demanding in any way, and now this one, the centerpiece was fucking at my face.
He continued, "Well, they were loading the machines, and I noticed there were only a few scents they were using for fabric conditioner, even though we have plenty. I asked about it, and May told me that, for example, the pineapple-scented one had given a few kids a rash, yet not even Number Four knew about it?"
I nodded, recalling the incident, and said, "Well, Sadie got a rash on her arms, and so did Jesse. It was tiny red dots where the clothes with that stuff had touched their skin. It wasn't too itchy, but it wasn't on others. And as we bathed them in the evening, those dots were gone from both of them in the morning, so washing helped. I took no risks; I told the girls and washed the clothes again, not using that one. While it doesn't smell too pleasant, it's not that it smells bad when you open the bottle, but once you use it, it somehow becomes… wrong. So, yes, we have our favorites, and I've asked the kids for their opinions as well, so this isn't just me." My voice was calm as I explained.
Number one said, "Back up a bit, babe; tell me a bit more about the rash. Was it hard, raised, or flat and dot-like, so I can have an idea of what might have caused it? We need to check on those liquids. I have a few culprits in my mind, and we might be able to neutralize them or just not use them."
I said, "They were slightly raised, not itchy, but I could feel them. Kids' skin seemed paler around the spots."
I stopped my efforts for a minute as I recalled the rash more, sending images of my memories to him; he grunted.
Number one was thinking many things and many ways he could proceed; he could be dominant or clinical, but how to win her heart? As he looked at other versions of himself, thinking clearly about what to do next and how to proceed.
Number Nine said telepathically to him, "Watch and learn. As said, seduce, entice, be her weakness."
He looked at Mimi, smiling at her, making her smirk at him back.
"Do you have a problem with that piece, baby?" he asked, his tone a bit more playful.
I said, "Well, since we found larimar and put it up as an option, it is hugely popular; however, these pieces are awkwardly shaped, and I don't want to cut them, so I work on them. It takes time, as I need to get this damn flat wire to sit as snugly as possible, and in this piece, we have this knob over here. I need to make adjustments for that, or otherwise this will slip like this. This particular design is normally pretty tricky to make, and I am just starting. It is paramount that the centerpiece does not slip out." I showed him what I meant.
Number one came to sit next to me, perched on my armrest, and he said, "Lemme help, babe. See, I warm this bit more like this, and now you can bend it more easily. This is a nice stone."
His fingers enveloped mine as he helped me get bent just right; his closeness made my body react a bit, and I swallowed, trying to keep my mind focused. He protected my fingers so they would not burn as the metal was warmed.
He chuckled, a deep, almost again-silent sound that thrummed in his chest and made my nipples harden. My very visceral reaction made him smile.
"Oh, baby, are you in need? At least your body seems to think so," he murmured.
I was trying to come up with a witty reply, but my brain was blank. If he were to once again put on seduction gear, my life would be, well, let's say interesting, as I was quite susceptible to his advances.
I finally got my mouth working, and a very naughty idea came to my mind as I decided to fight fire with fire, so I said, "Yeah, my body reacts; maybe we can have some fun at night, that is, if you are up to it. You, being the pack leader and all, are so busy, and then there is Mariella. Hmm. Maybe I should try her again; she could be my meal or something. I do have quite a collection of boyfriends still hidden."
Number one was not fazed; he upped his game. "Babe, Mariella is easy. Can you make me your meal or whatever?"
It was just when Wulfe walked in, and he was about to burst into laughter as I was doing what I had told him, using number one as a boy toy, luring him into my trap. Now poor Wulfe stood at the door, not sure if he should warn Number One about my intentions or just see where this was going.
And my mind switched into even wilder gear as I saw Wulfe, hmm, two boytoys. A yummy idea, and I could teach Mariella a few of my tricks. Yeah, it could be fun; after all, I was tired of being the one to be cared for. I was tired of being sick and feeble; it was time for this alpha to give her beta some fun lessons on how to rule her men. But I had one other motivation, something I had read, and I was hoping to pull it off. Mariella would be needed as well.
I contacted Mariella via our special place in Hive and told her my plan. Oh yeah, she was more than ready, and I told her that I would inform her when I would have everything in place; older girls would take care of most of Salvatore's, so we could do our little stint with interference and then give boys some nice lessons.
I was not even thinking about what might come out of this or how these two would react; there were many possibilities, but the future will show us in due time. I was still on the mend, at least according to my Salvatores, so they did not let me do so many chores, and even my flower shop was open online; there were many eager florists in the pack who had pitched in.
One day, I might try my hand at flower arranging myself. It was truly heartwarming to witness my children's interactions. My quick-witted almost three-year-olds, for instance, tried to get their younger siblings, just over a year old, to obey them and join in their games. However, as the younger ones had just learned to walk, they eagerly explored their surroundings, not always staying put to play with their older siblings.
Yesterday, for example, I found it hilarious when Sadie was huffing and puffing, chasing after Evie. Evie, wearing only a diaper, wanted to walk and run freely. When Sadie finally caught her, she chided Evie about needing to put on clothes. I had never seen anything like it before, and it was such a lovely moment.
I realized that family life was once again whirring on, and maybe, just maybe, Damon—number one—could actually be part of it, at least from my point of view. However, I did not let my guard down. I continued to send the ever-aroused beta my plans for turning a few guys into sex toys for us and no one else.
This approach would teach Mariella some self-discipline while also showing Damon that she was capable of change. Perhaps, in doing so, it might even bring us closer; after all, there's no need for us to be enemies when we could have so much more fun as lovers.