I had to admit, it felt strangely normal to be inside a house, sitting on a chair, and eating a meal. Our trip had ended abruptly due to widespread flooding; cities were affected by flooding, creating a human emergency as well. We'd retreated to one of our castles in Australia, finally giving our horses a rest at the magic house.
Now it was time to eat, debrief, and plan the next move. It was clear that the Azores-bound holiday for Salvatores and Adam, Charles, the boys, and the wolves would take them to one of their sex islands near China or Japan. Wulfe, Alaric, and the others were eager to get back to work. Dresden and Constantine had devised innovative ways to make Sarks and Krycheck's lives difficult, and Wulfe, Alaric, Dexter, Murdock, Magnum, Colin, Tim, and Taylor were raring to go.
I, however, was not. I had my own plans, and the prospect of some "me time," while exhilarating, was also somewhat daunting. Damon had something on his mind, but the challenging weather and navigating the muddy jungle had preoccupied him, preventing him from interrogating me.
To be honest, I wasn't ready to divulge everything either. It was odd eating from an actual plate at a table, enjoying a huge meal of the fattest Wagyu imaginable, copious amounts of fresh coffee and Coca-Cola, without the usual bugs, rain, and birdsong – a soundtrack I had to admit I missed. The smell of horses clung to me; I felt like even a day-long soak in the tub wouldn't remove it.
Those nights in the tents... oh my god, how special they had been. Our shared confessions, stories, connections, and, of course, the sanctification of the tents – it had all been fun. But now I faced a dry spell, no sanctification, no companionship, unless I counted myself.
Damon had forbidden me from seeing my octopi, claiming he wanted to meet them someday, likely planning to seduce them or something, and thus preventing me from spending too much time with them.
Charles whispered, "My love, remember our plan? I'll be there if I can. Where are you going?"
I, slightly irritated by Mariella's mid-meal fantasizing about her upcoming sex holiday, said aloud, and looking at Charles, replied, "My love, I'm going to one of my newest islands. We acquired it through Curran's nephew—the one we saved years ago. He's a property agent, and he got it from a deceased pack member's foreclosure. Since there was no will, it became his problem. It's not too large, near Hawaii, but off the main shipping routes, making it hard to reach commercially. He gave it to us as a reward; it got a difficult property off his hands and gave him good reputation. My organization doesn't use islands, so I transferred it to my personal assets. I plan to evaluate the flora and fauna. The witches of Fleas have secured it, meaning no dangerous plants or bugs, but there are other resources I need to see in person. The house is large but rundown, so I might renovate it, too."
Charles smiled and said aloud, "Sounds like a plan. I'm sure it's connected somehow, so I may have some free time to come and put up a few lamps, since you're not an electrician, honey." (Our running joke.)
Damon subtly reshaped his fork. Mariella pursed her lips at the interruption of her story, and Wulfe smiled, understanding my point perfectly. He was on my side, knowing how many threats were after me and prioritizing my safety.
Considering this, I said aloud, directing my words to Adam, "Just imagine, if I were forced to live with Damon, Mariella, you, Charles, the boys, and maybe Wulfe, for years, I'd probably drive everyone crazy with my antics."
Adam smiled.
Charles said, "If that ever happens," his voice full of promise, "and I get to spend years with you, with you never escaping, with nothing separating us," his genuine smile made my heart flutter, "you can be sure it will be the happiest time of my life, and I'll do everything to ensure a good life for you—lots of love, and lots of me, too."
I smiled.
Mariela, jealous and catty, sneered, "If that were to happen, I think you'd learn to live under Damon's roof pretty soon and learn what a wife has to do to please her husband."
Oh no, she'd given me too much ammunition. Magnum shook his head as Wulfe transmitted my thoughts, but he smirked as well.
"No need for me to be his wife," I retorted. "He has you for that; you're the one spreading your legs and obeying him. I'd probably just bring food to the table and make sure everything ran smoothly."
Damon remained silent, the muscle in his cheek twitching – a perfectly infuriating sight.
Lepard fanned the flames, saying, "My love, my Mimi, I'd be honored to be part of the household you rule."
He cruelly glanced at Mariella. "Sorry, doll, can't say the same to you, Mrs. Robinson."
Mariella's mouth snapped shut.
Demon's calm, rich voice cut through the tension, addressing Mariella directly: "He's right, you know. You wouldn't rule any household, only Damon's cock. I bet you wouldn't have a clue how to navigate the real world."
Mariella's eyes narrowed. "Well, I'm glad it's all theoretical," she snapped. "And yes, I have no idea what to do in the world, but I do know how to be with Damon, love him, and ensure our bond remains strong."
I rolled my eyes. Charles whispered to me, "Oh, my love, that's giving me so many ideas. I might give the upstairs a little hint to make it happen."
I laughed. "Oh, my husband, you and your conversations with 'upstairs' are well known, as is his influence. But please, refrain from giving them ideas about forcing me to live as Mrs. Salvatore. I have my rage, and years spent with a mating couple might make me do some drastic things."
Number Two looked at me intently.
Mimosa said, "Oh, it would be perfect. If you brought your girls—those four and some of Mariella's—there'd be more females to keep the rest of the Salvatores busy, and you could be the true alpha female. But I must admit, I'd skip it. I'd let you have your life, and I could have some free time from the pack."
Adam smirked, saying, "Oh, this is starting to sound fun. Some of us live together as a family in a special place, while others maintain the household—dealing with the fleas and such. Of course, there'd be limitations: forget about choosing the right insurance, paying taxes, or having a normal job—no assassinations or shootings, but maybe a hairdresser or baker."
I rolled my eyes; this was getting ridiculous.
Mariella chimed in, "Oh, and we'd have to earn money—no more being rich. Mimi would have to work, though Damon could probably find any job he wanted. It wouldn't be so easy for Mimi."
I replied, amused, "You know what? I'm sure I wouldn't be perfect, and it would be a struggle, but it would be something entirely new. Despite the difficulties, I think I might find some good in it—unless my husband here decides to knock me up and force me to raise babies. But again, I like that idea."
Damon said, "Not a bad idea. You'd be the ideal housewife, though not all the time. Your temper needs an outlet, so working might be an option. But what I approve of...delicious! This is a fun little game. Just think, Mimi, living with me for years—a new record! And you'll learn to be a wife, spreading those legs for me, and I'll give you some 'staff of love.'"
I took a breath; he was baiting me, so I focused on my meal.
Unbeknownst to me, upstairs, The God, a fat, white, longhaired feline, was listening intently. Our little scenario gave him some juicy ideas. He knew it was possible, educational, and that he'd have a fun time with it.
However, rough times lay ahead. Perhaps, someday, some would see this as a reward, others as an inevitable punishment; this dichotomy would provide him entertainment for years to come. After all, we were immortal; time was something we had in abundance.
We also needed lessons—lessons of love, family, and living together. After these hard-earned lessons, we'd see what was true, what mattered to each of us, and the state of our love, not to mention how binding those promises made during this trip would be. One never knows which hopes and dreams will come true.
As I ate, the men continued their discussion. Magnum refused to participate, claiming he preferred the real world; a sentiment echoed by Dexter, Colin, Murdock, and the wizards.
Dresden, with a touch of bitterness, declared, "I don't have the patience to watch them tear each other apart, or to sanctify the entire house if it comes to that."
Alaric smiled, agreeing, "Me neither. I could mediate, but living amidst the Salvatore family—paying taxes, going to work—is too much. No, thank you."
I rolled my eyes. "Really? Am I that bad?"
Murdock smirked. "Yes, when you're angry or overly eager for sanctification. You're a difficult person to live with, and I'm too much of a gentleman to tell you that to your face repeatedly."
Mariella, increasingly engaged, looked at me and said, "Oh, Mimi, I bet we'd have real catfights! I'd be defending Damon, and you'd be telling me how wrong or lazy he is. And if we got pregnant... living with a horde of kids would be interesting."
I replied, "I might ensure Damon keeps you pregnant, not me. I'd be the one working. It would be taxing but refreshing—not being a leader, killer, or sociopath, but part of a community. I could go to church on Sunday, shop for groceries after work, and have Charles draw me a bath."
Mariella glared, challenging me. "Why exclude Damon? He could draw you a bath. Why keep him on the sidelines in your fantasy? Why not imagine him as the perfect husband?"
I stated flatly, "He's never been the perfect husband for me. My experiences have shown me what a perfect husband and an alpha male are, and they aren't the same. He may be perfect for you, but honestly, when has he ever been that for me?"
She fell silent. Everyone changed the subject after my blunt assessment, leaving me to ponder this and countless other things. My mind, of course, continued to develop the scenario, imagining versions with Wulfe and Magnum, Colin and Wulfe, or just Wulfe, Adam, and Charles.
I initially believed everyone could benefit from these scenarios, but with Damon, I had to admit to myself that he and the other Salvatores were always with Mariella in every conceivable situation. This was painful, yet I remained realistic, acknowledging the most likely outcome and refusing to hurt myself by living in fantasy.
Even though it was just a mind game, my mind made it incredibly realistic, giving me much to consider. My island plans were put on hold as I explored various outcomes in my mind.
Unbeknownst to me, numbers three, four, nine, and ten, along with Wulfe, were observing, essentially experiencing it alongside me. They, too, recognized my realistic, albeit flawed, perspective, as I had excluded love from the equation. They all genuinely loved me, but sometimes that might not be enough.
It would soon be time for a holiday, allowing me to delve deeper into these scenarios in my mind, see what life throws my way, and discover just how unpredictable life can be. I would learn that certain traumas sometimes require even more trauma to resolve. It would be rough and unpleasant, but once again, love might prevail.
Our little scenario played out over thirteen years; I lived as an alpha female in a household with Damon, Mariella, and others – but that's another story. That time was transformative, gifting me many wonderful moments. We were family, and I had my moments with Damon, too. However, when reality eventually hit, it was a defining moment, capable of breaking or making me.
When our dream life stopped and it was time to face the ugliness of the world. It revealed just how much I had grown and how immature Damon and Mariella were in certain respects. They've improved since, but it took some harsh lessons to make them grow fuck up. I am not sure if I want to do that again. I sometimes think about it and then I remember all of the good times but also those not so good times, and I must admit, I am torn in two directions.