The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life

In the darkness of the bedroom, as the first rays of the sun began to illuminate the horizon, it was winter, and the sun rose late, a lone figure sat in the deep shadows, comfortably reclining in a nice armchair. With a wave of his hand, he conjured an expensive cigar from thin air, lighting it lazily and taking a deep drag.

His gaze drifted dreamily around the room, where blood splatters lined the walls. In the bed, a slight figure lay with an IV tube connected to her neck, blood soaking the sheets.

The female figure was dressed in a white gown, revealing bandages on her arms that slightly bulged beneath the fabric. Her hands were crossed on her chest, giving the appearance of peaceful sleep, yet her chest did not rise or fall with breath.

The only pulse that could be heard was the one sitting in the armchair, but he was not worried. She was immortal and would heal in due time. Now was his time to savor this freedom, this exhilarating feeling that had eluded him for ages.

He felt so alive, as if there was nothing he couldn't do. In his contentment, he turned his gaze toward the female figure, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Quite a wedding, don't you think, darlin'?" he murmured softly.

She did not reply, nor did she move. He wasn't concerned, nor did he expect a response. She had fulfilled her purpose splendidly, and he was not ready to let go of this ecstasy. Taking another deep drag from his expensive cigar, he allowed its aroma to intoxicate his senses. His upper body was covered in blood, but it was not his own; it didn't bother him.

Charles, restless and in great discomfort, realized that Mimi was in danger again, this time in Damon's clutches. Determined to save her, Charles cursed silently and made his way downstairs to find her.

Just as he was about to descend, Adam emerged from one of the rooms, clearly agitated. "God damn it, she just can't catch a break. What the hell has Salvatore done to her?"

Charles pursed his lips, his brown eyes almost black with determination.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Number Two approached them, exasperated. "What's wrong with you two? We're about to face some serious heat, so now is not the time for tantrums."

Charles stated firmly. "Number One has Mimi. She's in distress, and we're going to help her."

 Number two was focused. He felt through the hive mind and cursed out loud, saying, "Oh, fuck me sideways! Shit, goddamn it, this damn shit again."

Adam grunted and sarcastically replied, "Oh, you noticed it too? How about we act instead of trying to win Mimi over with inventive cursing?"

Number two took a deep breath, his voice tense and commanding. "You two, go get Wulfe and Mariella. Tell Mariella that side is out again, and she is needed as well, Wulfe. It's kind of our darkness. He has gone overboard, and now it's too much fun for him to control himself. I'm not sure what he would be like if he isn't fixed."

Charles rolled his eyes, a rare sight for him, but he and Adam went to get some help. Meanwhile, number two rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and teleported behind the door where number one was with Mimi. This wasn't the wedding suite, not exactly, but...

His hand, strong and long-fingered, trapped the doorknob, twisting it, knowing that he was about to see. The only problem was that he hadn't said a word. Could he control himself and not let his darkness out? Could he resist joining the fun? Was he strong enough?

As the door creaked open, the smell of blood and cigar wafted out, and number two took a breath. He breathed through his mouth, not wanting to smell the scent too well, as it could put him in the wrong state of mind.

The room was dark and dim, with the rising sun casting some light, allowing number two to see Mimi lying on the bed. She was in a white gown, and her posture made him curse in his mind, as this was as bad as it could be. He had indulged in his ritual while letting his dark side have fun, so it was all too perfect for him.

Number one's voice was low, enjoyable, and quiet as he spoke. "Did you come to join the fun? She is healing, albeit slowly, but still. I did put a hormone drip, so the heat is happening. We could have a few days of fun."

Number two spoke up. "No, I didn't come here to join. I came to get Mimi out and help you regain control. It's about to get heated, and we both know that's not what we need right now. Let's not traumatize the pack. They should be happy and enjoying this perfect time."

Number one's voice drawled on, softer yet dangerous, with a lazy, almost predatory tone. "Come on, don't be a spoilsport. You know it's dull, so damn dull. Try to be a bit more like me."

Mariella's voice echoed in number two's mind, "How bad is it? Are we coming?"

Number two replied telepathically, "It's bad enough. Listen, I have to tend to Mimi. You need Wulfe's help to push this down. Remember how long it took you last time during that shed session?"

Mariella asked, "Yeah, but what do you mean?"

Number two explained, "I have to move Mimi away before Wulfe arrives. They are linked, and he will prioritize her over number one. It's cruel, but we can't give him that chance. I'll get Mimi back to shape, but this is..."

Mariella nodded grimly, "Rough. Fine, I'm ready. Just tell me when it's safe to enter. I've directed Adam and Charles to take care of Elena and Katherine. They're feeling the heat, and they're a little too confused for the boys. You know how passionate they can be, at least for now."

Number two replied sternly, even in telepathy, "Under no circumstances should you aggravate Damon. You have to control your urge to push him. He's in a place where you can't reach him, and he might want to keep the feeling going. That means he'll come after you next. Remember your first wedding night? Well, when he got Mimi, it was 200% worse."

Mariella swallowed and approached Wulfe's room door. Her knuckles turned white as she knocked softly. She hoped she could bring Damon back to his senses, but Wulfe seemed like the better option.

Number two entered the room, having directed Mariella to fetch Wulfe. He could see Mimi's bandages, her complexion as pale as her gown.

Number one lazily remarked, "She's still a bit mushy. If you plan to move her, be careful. I did put my blood in those dressings, but..."

Number two interrupted tersely, "Her will is preventing them from healing her as quickly as they could. Damn it, why does everything have to go to hell when it's the worst possible time?"

He carefully slid his hands under the sheet after unwrapping it from the mattress and wrapping Mimi in it. He removed the IV.

Mimi was fully aware and terrified. Not just because of the IV, but also because she had been drugged, drained, and brutalized. Despite all that, she kept her heart still, pretending to be unconscious so they would remove the IV. It seemed that Number One was either unaware of Mimi's medical issues or simply didn't care. Either way, Number Two knew he had to fix this.

He carefully lifted Mimi into his arms, straightened himself, and teleported away without saying a word.

He found a room that smelled safe, laid Mimi, still wrapped in the sheet, onto the bed, and said to Mariella, "The Coast is clear, you can come in."

She acknowledged, but right now, Number Two was only thinking about Mimi, his baby. First, he got warm water and a clean nightgown for her and started cleaning her and removing the dressings. Mimi's fear and panic prevented Damon's blood from healing her.

He knew he might be able to heal her eventually, but not just yet. He conjured Mimi's care bag and opened it, knowing that many Salvatores had one. He quickly retrieved clean, large dressings and, after removing all traces of blood, fear, and terror from her skin, he covered her wounds and finally dressed her in a clean nightgown.

He spoke to her in a calm, soothing voice the entire time. "Come on, baby, shh. I've got you. It's over now. Let's get you well. Everything is going to be just fine. I'm here. It's over."

He spoke differently than Number One had spoken, so that her mind could differentiate between them. After getting her settled in a nice pink flannel gown, not her own bed, he went to shower to clean himself. He didn't bother dressing, instead joining her in bed.

He pulled a warm blanket over them and held her close, letting her listen to his heartbeat, while gently helping her confused mind. Time didn't matter at this moment, and at some point, he noticed her heart beating and felt her warm breaths on his chest.

He was now keeping his baby safe, allowing her to recover, and hoping that eventually, she would start to feel the heat between them. It didn't matter how long it took; he was committed to making it happen. 

The first thing that finally penetrated the thick fog of dread in my mind was the soothing voice of number two. It wrapped around us like a warm blanket, along with his heartbeat and the increasingly familiar scent that brought me a sense of security, even more so than number one's scent.

I wasn't just upset; I was deeply troubled. The wedding nights, what he did to me, the pain and fear, it was partly about trust. I trusted him to understand my boundaries. I could endure the physical damage he inflicted, the fear and terror, but when it came to medical procedures, I couldn't handle it.

Being fully aware, with one of the strongest telepaths, he sensed my awareness and my fear of being dressed as his victim again, cannulated and helpless. All the while he enjoyed my fear, smoking his cigar. It was too much, even for me, so I reserved a good hefty dose of rage for number one.

And let's not forget the rule of shifters: when the heat is near, the alpha female of the pack should not be provoked. Yes, he could maintain control, but it would be wise to remember that I was the one causing this intense heat.

And as it happened, my pheromones were flooding out uncontrollably, as if my body had no say in the matter, frozen with fear. Number one was now exposed to a strong dose of them, and if Mariella or anyone else entered the room, they would be too. Number two had also been affected by them, but I was intentionally giving him different ones now.

As my wounds slowly healed, he grew worried and said to me, "Baby, baby, listen to me. You should feed off me. Can you do that?"

It was like a flashback from the past, as he had used his blood to heal me after shed sessions or whatever else, and told me to drink from him. He raised my body slightly closer to his neck and tilted his head, urging me to sink my fangs into him.

"Come on, baby, sink them in. It will heal you internally. We can get you fixed, my love."

I obediently sank my fangs into his neck and began to feed. The hot blood dripping into my throat and belly healed me and satisfied my hunger, but it also intensified my heat. He had been in my pheromone cloud for quite some time.

So, I slowly started to move, climbing on top of him, removing my fangs from his neck, and kissing him with my still bloody mouth, making him taste his own blood on my lips.

Our fingers intertwined as I pressed his hands onto the bed, straddling his naked body. I had no underwear on either, and my strong thighs gripped his waist as we passionately kissed. I gently nipped at his jaw and throat, and he turned his head, exposing the right side of his neck, where his pheromone glands were.

His eyes shimmered with passion as he spoke to me, "Baby, my Mimi, do it. Make me yours, and bite into my pheromone glands too. Make me yours, forever. Remember my promise, we are forever."

Without hesitation, I let my alpha side take over, feeling my teeth shift into a more feline-like form. I sank them into his pheromone glands, marking him as mine, irrevocably. It was done. He was mine, and no matter how hard Mariella or even Wulfe would try to take it away, the mark would remain.

Mariella and Wulfe had successfully suppressed Number One's darkness, but compared to Mimi's darkness, it was child's play. He was now ready to be with Mariella. Mariella had spent quite some time in that room with Damon, who refused to move.

She had been exposed to a potent blend of Mimi's pheromones, making her possessive and demanding, pushing Damon to plan their wedding. She also wanted to know what Number Two was doing with Mimi.

As for Wulfe, Mariella directed him to the potion lab to perfect the potion that blocked Mimi's multiplication enzyme, ensuring she wouldn't experience any symptoms. They had given Wulfe some fresh blood from Mimi to work with.

Mariella desired more men for herself, unaware that Mimi's heat pheromones were also affecting her. Together, they set out to find where Number Two had taken Mimi and what they were up to.

I was passionately kissing and dominating Number Two, his grunts of pleasure filling the room, when the door abruptly swung open.

Mariella stormed in, her voice piercing. "How dare you? Leave him alone! What the fuck have you done?!"

She could smell and see my possession over Number Two. Unfazed, I leaned in, licking his pheromone gland, causing him to groan and close his eyes in pleasure.

Mariella turned to Number One and said in a stern tone, "Put your damn alpha female under control, unless you want her to take over this pack. Soon, there won't be any males left for the rest of us, as she wants them all."

I didn't bother responding as I continued to passionately kiss Number Two, keeping his hands pinned to the bed.

Number One stepped closer, sounding bored as he said, "Yeah, baby, this reaction is meant for me, but could you please stop? It's not time for your heat yet. I make that decision, not you."

I ignored him, and Mariella continued to pester him. Frustrated, he strode towards me, grabbing my hands and sinking his fangs into my throat, draining me in that spot. The last thing I felt was my body hitting the floor as he threw me off Number Two.