The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life

I actually had no sense of what a clock was. It felt like there was no concept of time in that place, only time to socialize. I would talk and tease my husband, Damon.

Wulfe, stood up when he would once again take on the role of ceremonial leader. He would guide the events that would unfold. He stepped onto a small podium, and clapped his hands sharply three times, and the dryads who had been taking care of me emerged from somewhere.

They were now dressed in leaves that represented the trees they embodied. To my surprise, as I observed them up close, I noticed that these leaves were actually growing from their skin. There was a gentle rustling sound as the three of them approached Wulfe, bowing their heads and curtsying to him.

He declared, "It is time to prepare our queen for the wedding night. You may proceed."

Fine. They approached me and led me through narrow corridors into a room. It appeared to be a dressing room of some sort. They began to remove my dress and unravel my hair. I was more than ready for whatever was to come next.

However, an older female arrived, her leaves slightly tinged with red and yellow, as if her life was in the autumn stage. It made me slightly melancholic, but I remembered the circle of life. She carried a tray filled with glasses, each containing a different colored liquid.

I was quite hungry since we hadn't eaten anything all day, so I hoped Damon would satisfy my appetite in a certain way. Surprises continued to unfold as one of the girls brought me a set of clothes. I was confused as I looked at the sports bra, snug and tight-fitting technical tee shirt, stretchy technical pants, and sneakers. Not exactly what one would wear on their wedding night.

The older female noticed my confusion and explained, "It is time for your husband to tame you. You shall fight, and drink."

She handed me the first drink, and without even thinking, I consumed it. Heat spread through my belly, sharpening my mind and fueling my rage. Oh really?

The female continued to explain, "You will engage in a physical fight. It is up to your husband to win you over with his lust, his love, and his power. These drinks will ensure that you are fully prepared for the actual fight. It will be real."

I rolled my eyes, thinking, "Sure, we can do it."

I downed three more glasses, each one intensifying my rage, even though it was now contained within a new tank system. It still affected me, and I realized these concoctions must be Wulfe's doing. Oh, my god.

Sure, in the past, the heat of the fight has sometimes turned everything around and we ended up sanctifying the gym. But now, I wasn't sure. I was in a pretty dangerous mode and this might go in a whole different direction than what they were expecting. It was like I had little choice here. Those damn drinks were tasty as hell and my rage was feeling really good.

I turned to my own reflection and thought, "Oh well, let's fight then."

For some reason, I was getting more and more pissed off at the whole damn Salvatore. I wanted to kick his ass from here to eternity and I was not in a playful mood, but ready to fight.

As I put on those snug clothes, showcasing my shape, or lack thereof, they had also cleaned my face. I had no crown. I looked like a young girl. Not too shapely, but I could feel my rage burning in my mind and in my gaze. My hands were slightly fisted, aching to hit Damon.

Let him see just how damn strong I am when I'm pissed off. It might be that his grand plan of hitting a few punches and then starting to fool around would not go exactly like that. Oh, he or Wulfe had not really thought that I hadn't unloaded my rage in quite some time and I had plenty to vent here. But if this was what they wanted, who am I to stop them?

My thoughts were primed only for fighting. This seemed to excite the dryads, too.

One thought came to my mind, and I turned to the older female and said, "Have you ever heard of the original witch called Bridgette, or that's what she called herself? She left a lot of knowledge for me. Am I supposed to share it with my pack, with my husband, or is it only for my use?"

She smiled wistfully and said, "Our mother, she created us, all of us. Legend says that one time she gazed into the future, and became sad because of what she saw. Her tears dropped on an acorn, a branch of beech, a few leaves of birch, and a broken stem of aspen. Her tears, her sadness, gave birth to the dryads. She is called the mother, or the protector of love. If she left her knowledge to you, she trusted you to know when to share, to give, and to keep."

I nodded. It was a wonderfully vague answer. I could recognize some kind of compulsion when I saw one, so it was not for me to have straight answers to anything. 

I couldn't help but snicker to myself as the dryads opened the door on the opposite side of the room from where we had entered.

They said to me, "You can go in, your husband awaits."

Just as I was pondering this, recalling how they had referred to Bridgette as the protector of love, it occurred to me that perhaps Bridgette's role was to protect me. She may not have been a cupid, but she had saved me when I needed it. My ego kicked in. I felt a little more important in the grand scheme of the universe, yeah; she was created to save ME. I was that important.

The hallway was well-lit and not particularly large. There were electric lights illuminating the space. The floor was lined with soft mats, and I could see an audience near the ceiling. Rafters were present, full of guests watching us but they were separated from us by glass, preventing me from smelling, hearing, or talking to them. They would have an excellent view.

I could see Wulfe standing there, finally having removed his robe and wearing just jeans and a t-shirt. On the other side of the gym, Damon stood, donning a black t-shirt that hugged his body tightly, loose pants, sneakers, and that infuriatingly arrogant smirk on his face.

Wulfe's voice rang out, "It is time for the king to tame his queen or for the queen to win her king. Proceed."

Damon took a few steps closer, raised his fingers, and continued to smile. In an instant, I teleported behind him, sweeping his legs from under him and delivering a kick to his jaw.

He rolled over, his smirk now gone, his voice low, "Dirty, baby, that's how you do this."

I didn't bother to respond, instead; I hit him again, kicking him, but he managed to dodge, barely. He grunted as he took an extra step to maintain his balance. I attacked him with a fierce rage, making myself extremely dangerous, unpredictable, and downright lethal. My hits, when I managed to land them, felt powerful, and he grunted and cursed under his breath.

Then he began to step up his game, using his energy to strike me and attempting to sweep my legs out from under me.

"Oh, really?" I thought to myself.

My tanks were loaded as I opened my panels, and when golden strands of magic shot toward me from his fingers, I simply absorbed them. Suddenly, his demeanor shifted, and he unleashed a surge of pure lust energy. It washed over me, knocking me down, and he pressed his body against mine, kissing me passionately.

I pushed him away, got up, and attacked again, but now he was smirking, using his claws to shred my clothes, gradually steering my aggression toward a more carnal direction. Well, I had claws too, and I retaliated by ripping his shirt open, leaving deep gashes in his chest before he quickly healed. 

It was still a 50-50 situation. My rage burned intensely, but his lust, as he forcefully pressed me against the wall and kissed me, tearing off my t-shirt, was beginning to transform my anger into lust.

It awakened a sex beast within me, and I wondered if we could resist giving in and consecrate this space. With each touch, our intention shifted from hurting each other to undressing, kissing, and exploring each other slowly.

As our lust intensified, I no longer cared about putting on a show; I just wanted Damon beneath me, to show him who was in control. I playfully tore his pants, revealing his boxers, and couldn't help but smirk.

I asked him teasingly, "Is that hard to use?"

It was quite obvious how much he desired me by the bulge in his boxers. His claws ripped the rest of my clothes off, and with a burst of magic, he removed his boxers.

With a forceful grip, he spread my thighs apart, and I felt his hot, hard cock penetrate me with one powerful thrust.

He kissed me passionately, biting and marking me, his voice thick with lust as he muttered, "You're mine, only mine."

I did the same, biting him, asserting my ownership. At that moment, there was no one else, but us, consumed by our passion. His eyes gleamed with desire, a mix of violet and golden, though I couldn't recall the color of my own eyes, nor did I care.

The sounds of our pleasure filled the air, as we fucked with a fervor like no other, consecrating the space without a care for the vampires watching us from the rafters. If they wanted to, they could learn a thing or two from us.

At that moment, I had no worries or doubts; it was all about what we could do together and do it well. The sex beast and the fucking machine were showing the vampires how to properly sanctify a space. This old-fashioned gym provided us with a new playground, with wooden stairs and various positions to explore.

I wasn't sure about taking the leap into the unknown, but then again, feeling the firmness of the mat beneath me and Damon's hot, sweaty skin against mine, I couldn't resist. We were both sweaty, and his possessive mouth claimed me over and over again.

The burning intensity of his cock rubbing against my G-spot made my eyes roll back in my head. I wrapped my legs around his waist as another orgasm took over. The pleasure was addicting, and we couldn't get enough of each other.

Time didn't matter, and nothing else existed. It was just the two of us, enjoying the moment and giggling as we caught our breath in various exotic positions. We were all that mattered.

Finally, as I laid on top of Damon, sweaty, satisfied, and tired, I asked, "This wasn't just a one-night thing, right?"

He nodded and replied, "No, it's connected to that realm where time passes differently. In the normal world, it's only been 15 hours, but here, it's been 45 days. We've still got it, baby."

I sighed and suggested, "Well, we've gone longer before, so maybe we should train at some point and have our three-month mark."

Damon chuckled, and I leaned against him, exhausted but blissfully happy. His strong hands moved across my skin, soothing and loving. I listened to his heartbeat, which now felt like our heartbeat.

Suddenly, my wrist ached, and I looked down to see that my tattoo had grown. I showed it to Damon, and it now read "45 days" in ornate script. Damon's tattoo hadn't changed, but as a lust creature, it wasn't as significant to him. Maybe there was some truth to Wulfe's warning, but Damon didn't see it as something to worry about.

He reassured me, saying, "It will grow when it's meant to, baby. Don't worry. In a few more days, we'll start planning our next wedding."

Perhaps his focus had shifted to those upcoming weddings, and he was feeling less sentimental, dreaming of nights filled with a certain type of passion and release for him and not-so-enjoyable times for me.

It was just another part of our life together. I tried not to overanalyze and rolled off Damon when the dryads came to get me ready for the next day, whatever it may bring. 

It was a day of truth, and I had no idea what I was about to witness. As the queen, I held a certain status and had to maintain control, despite what happened that day. I couldn't reveal my true feelings to anyone. It was just another one of those things, and it wasn't all bad, at least not for me. But it did take something away from me, something I thought I had just for myself.

Speaking of our tattoos, mine now extends from my arm to my chest, my back, down to the small of my back, and on my left breast and side waist. Our life is written there. Not all of it being lovey-dovey stuff. And our record, as those other realms are so freaking handy to have, is now 189 days. It reads on both of our tattoos.

Damon's tattoo, on the other hand, covers his entire back and half of his front. It took him some time to learn how to feel to make it grow, but it's almost a competition for us now. So, who has more in our story?