As the first rays of the morning sun began to shine, they pulled me back from my sleep. I was warm—no, actually, I was pretty hot—since there were hot bodies pressed against me on both sides, and a thick, warm cover over me. I groaned and tried to move or get an idea of who was where.
Crisp Pear told me that I was still in Adam's arms, and someone was moving restlessly behind me. Oh, Mariella was still here too, as I felt her back against mine when Charles pulled her firmly to him.
But I was too hot. I managed to free one of my arms and toss the heavy blanket off me. Mariella and Charles kept their cover, and I let Adam stay under the blanket. The fresh room air felt wonderful as I tried to blink and open my eyes.
Suddenly, the door opened and footsteps approached. I drew in a breath. Oh, Number One—I assumed he was coming to get Mariella, but no. Instead, he walked near, leaned over with his yellow eyes, picked me up in his arms, and carried me away from Adam and Charles, purring softly until I fell back asleep.
The next time I woke up, I was sleeping on top of him, his arms enveloping me tightly. Each of our chakras were locked, his hand resting over my alpha chakra on my neck, with his own chakra in his palm, linking us further. Our connection blazed like the sun. He was sleeping, looking a bit knackered still, but his hot, firm body and embrace felt good. He was protecting me, wanting me, and there was nothing wrong with that.
Sleepily, I looked around and noticed we were in one of my so-called nests—not fucked room, but one filled with my happiness and relaxation pheromones. Somehow, we had created a kind of pheromone cocktail together, making this our room. But I had learned to live this life and share, so it didn't bother me.
We had plenty of rooms, and maybe someday he might go to Mariella, leaving me alone in this room—again, his choice, his burden. I had made a vow to myself to react accordingly, and that vow would stand. So, hmm, maybe I should tell him—warn him a bit.
As I mulled this over, he muttered, "Well, baby, if it comes to that, be my guest. React, show me the shape of your heart. Who knows, maybe it will get some sense into my thick skull. So let's make a pact: if I ever hurt you or break your heart, you are free to handle me as roughly, creepily, and brutally as you can, because I'll deserve it then, even if it's after this."
I replied, "I can promise you pain if you hurt me, and I can show you that not all the pain I can make you feel leads to climax. This is my promise to you. I can also teach you to be a proper husband."
This actually made him smile, and for real, it felt like our relationship had taken a leap forward, which was not a bad thing at all.
As we lay there, he asked, "Baby, what did you do to me and Wulfe? I have a hunch it was something special."
I nodded and said, "An old, ancient ritual. As you know, Bridgette left me tons of books about old vampire customs, vampire monarchy, and life as queen and king. There are so many rituals, and I just had to test my skills as queen. It worked quite well."
He grunted and said, "I... well, it somehow purified me. I mean, I have like 20 percent more oomph than before. Do you want to elaborate?"
I shook my head, "Me and my secrets. Even Mariella didn't know, as I had to use certain pheromones to make it successful."
He murmured to me, "Well, it seems I'll have to make sure I have time to read a bit, as you seem to have so many books for me. As I am the vampire king, I should know these things as well."
I had my reasons not to explain or let him read too much, as there were several fertility rituals for the queen, performed by the king and by God; I was fertile.
I was quite baffled as to why he had chosen me over Mariella.
He explained, "My love, your trigger scared us, truly it did. You see, they are literal bombs within your mind. And yes, I know about Damien's contacts; Charles told me. Therefore, you have many enemies out there, which makes me want to keep you safe and ensure you're not triggering any more bombs. We haven't fully understood yet how they are placed or what they are connected to, but perhaps with time. In the meantime, we have you, and I have you. I want you to be mine. Sleep on me, not next to Adam."
I responded, "But surely Mariella might get jealous at some point?"
He smiled, "Well, my love, as there's a nursery full of babies to care for, she has no time, just as we do. Now, we do this together, and we must devise a plan, rules for how we deal with Sadie's rage, as well as others' rage if they have it. This way, we can raise our children together."
I was still a bit sleepy, and this was such a perfect place to be. I was with Damon, with no drama, just love and nothing else. Our future was ours; we had our little room, our scent. It was all just so incredibly perfect. However, as is often the case, very rarely is anything in my life perfect, at least not for long.
My moments of perfection and happiness tend to be quite fleeting and often far too short. Still, they provide me with the momentum to carry on as much as possible. Even if life isn't always perfect, it is demanding, tiresome, and irritating, but it still teaches us lessons and allows us to learn what is most important in this life.
It's not perfect happiness, which can be dull and boring, but rather all sorts of little dramas and arguments and such – those are what make life worth living.
As I drifted back to sleep, I was happy, my soul singing. Damon was stroking me, holding me close, never wanting to let me go—or at least, that's what I thought. But reality soon showed me its less pleasant face.
I was abruptly pulled from my sleep by something disturbing: I could feel the bed moving, hear unsettling sounds, and detect an awful stench that turned my stomach upside down. Nausea rose within me, and as I opened my eyes, I could hardly believe what I witnessed. Mariella lay naked in my bed, being fucked by numbers one, two, and five. She moaned, and the stench of her cunt made my nausea even worse.
She was fucking in our bed, in our room—well, no longer ours. I scrambled up and ran to the bathroom, leaving the door purposely open, and puked my guts out, nearly missing the toilet.
Cramps wracked my stomach for several minutes, and the clear sound of my retching echoed through the room. When it finally stopped, I was drenched in sweat and pissed off as fuck, ready to react—not to attack Damon, but I had a few aces up my sleeve.
I grabbed my own bathrobe, a long, luxurious one, and draped it over my naked body. I washed my face and hands, as well as my pheromone glands, focusing on the feeling that this was no longer my room. It didn't belong to us anymore, the alpha couple; now, it was just another room.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, I puffed out my pheromones, nullifying every last trace I had layered here. The sense of the room changed—it was no longer a sanctuary or a nest, but just a place where someone had sex. And lots of it. The smell, or rather the stench, of Mariella's cunt wafted in the air, making it painfully obvious.
The men sat there, and Mariella still lay naked, confused and ready to continue, but she too felt my protection and the disappearance of my happiness, which made the room far less fun to fuck in.
Number one asked, "Are you sick? You vomited."
I replied in a cold voice, "No, it's this stench that turns my stomach upside down. You may continue—I'm not going to stay here, or I'll puke again soon."
I didn't bother to teleport away; instead, I walked out without asking or listening to any excuses. Let them fuck—this was not my problem. I was just one damn pissed-off alpha female.
I walked into one of my many bedrooms, a space I'd created by converting a storage room. It felt like a nest, though apparently, my nests attracted unwanted attention, as some "damn cunts" had spoiled them.
I then went to what I called my "animal room," adorned with animal prints and hides. Being on the colder side of the house and less insulated, the hides provided much-needed warmth. I sat on my bed, still fuming, but I knew I had a nursery full of babies waiting for me, so I had to get my emotions under control.
Just then, the door opened, and to my surprise, Number Eight walked in.
He sat beside me, pulled me close, and asked, "What happened? You've been unwell. Are you feeling alright?"
He leaned in, carefully and deliberately smelling my pheromones, trying to glean as much information as possible.
"I'm fine," I replied, my voice tight. "It was just a visceral reaction to what was happening."
He squeezed me tighter and asked, "Tell me the whole story."
I knew he genuinely needed to be there for me, unlike Mariella, who just didn't understand. So, I told him everything: how I'd woken up, heard Mariella talking, and then fallen asleep with Adam and Charles.
He smelled strongly of passionfruit and a hint of cedarwood, indicating his possessiveness. My sleeping near Adam clearly didn't sit well with him, as he was well aware of the depth of our bond. In his eyes, Adam was almost a greater threat than Charles.
"And then what, babe, after you woke up?" he asked, his voice soft and drawly, unlike the crisp tones of Numbers One, Nine, or Ten.
My voice was sullen and tired, "Well, Number One walked in, picked me up, and carried me to one of my nests – the light blue and mocha one. He purred me back to sleep."
Damon's hand traced my spine, massaging gently as he waited for me to continue.
"Well," I resumed, "I woke up, and you see, I'd made a promise to myself earlier: to react. If he ever acted like a dickweed again, I'd show him true pain."
Number Eight smiled and said, "Good thing I ain't the one breaking your heart. Ya can be pretty damn creepy, but let's keep that tendency sleeping, right?"
I nodded and continued, "Well, he woke up and agreed. Even after all this time, he knew he'd gone too far, and I could really mess him up. We kind of made a pact."
Eight grunted, his fingers tracing each of my vertebrae. I swallowed, trying to keep my voice detached, but my emotions bled through.
"I fell back asleep on top of him because it was so perfect, only to wake up to this awful stench. Mariella was in my bed, being fucked by numbers one, two, and five. I ran into the bathroom and puked; the smell of her cunt was unbearable. When I was done, I just grabbed my bathrobe, cleaned myself up, and nullified every single pheromone in that room, turning it into a porn shack for Miss Smelly Cunt. Then I walked out."
Eight said softly, "That ain't cool, you know? That kind of invasion is not cool at all. But I'm making a choice here, baby. I could go shout at them, explode, but I won't, because you need me. You're more important to me than me voicing my opinion about the fuckpack's latest activities."
I leaned more into him, and he hugged me tighter, sending me his love and keeping me close. I could sense he definitely wasn't a fan of Mariella—she might get creeped out if she knew—because Eight had a long memory and wasn't as forgiving as Six or Three. He knew how to hate, how to loathe, and he was becoming braver about showing it.
He said to me, "How about this, my lovely lady: I'll put the spa on, and we'll go eat something. Then we'll go to the sauna and spa with a chosen few—those who can behave and aren't slaves to smelly cunts. After that, you might be busy…"
His eyes held a certain glint as he seduced me. Adam was a bigger threat to him, and he knew how many saunas we'd sanctified with Adam over time, so he was making sure that wouldn't happen under his watch.
Even though I wanted to go see my babies, I knew it would be better for me to have some clarity and relaxation first—to be fully ready to take care of my ever-growing pack of children and watch them grow.
This was just my life, and I was thankful to have others who truly put me first. It felt amazing to have Salvatore choosing me—not Mariella—and to realize just how important I was to him. No more scraps of attention for me, but a genuine relationship filled with love, lust, and everything else. It was time to be a wife, have a family, and then be a mom too.