Chapter 210: 10. Breaking The Habit.
My mansion in Memphis was truly wonderful, at least for me. However, the entire pack seemed to be everywhere, which was quite overwhelming. We had initially toured my castle in Bulgaria; the tour had not been that long. It took little time and had an inspection of a few floors. Unfortunately, by that time, Max's list of renovations seemed to be longer than my arm. Damon freaking horseshit Salvatore graciously gave him free rein to make the place perfect, while Adam's team started installing the security system and appraising the paintings.
Damon had jokingly mentioned our uncommon practice of flying to America. The reason for our flight was that he had discovered I owned five jets, and Mariella, who hadn't flown much, wanted to see them. I was sulking, feeling irritated, and trying my best not to explode with anger.
And then, to add to my frustration, there was an invasion of my Memphis mansion, and nothing felt like it was truly mine anymore. It seemed as if Damon was the guardian of us all, granting everyone the freedom to act and have fun. Of course, there were secret places and a few rooms I had secured for myself. However, at that moment, I was not in the mood to share.
In this mansion, I had a different craft room equipped with a machine that printed bases for diamond painting. I had an impressive collection of pictures that I printed using real stone chips for the diamonds. One particular picture stood out to me. It was a beautiful summer scene from the original Chicago yard, with a tree bearing our initials prominently displayed. The picture was bursting with vibrant colors, providing me with hours of enjoyment. I had my ways of finding something to do, not to scream at everyone all the time on everything that they did.
I had found the perfect room on the top floor, although it opened into the darkness of the backyard. However, with my fancy lighting, it became the perfect space for me to focus on my project. The numbness I felt before was gone, and my mood no longer fluctuated as much. Meaning my rage and very feisty nature was upfront to everyone to witness and bear.
Despite the initial eagerness of the pack to help and provide therapy, achieving remission was not as easy as I had hoped. Without a filter, I became feistier and my sentences hit Damon wonderfully, even making Mariella smile. This prompted me to nickname him the "honorable but damn lazy telepath who gets his rocks off being the leader of this mishmash of creatures. A guy who has no idea what actual leadership is."
As I mentioned, I let my sentences flow freely, but the pack had to tolerate me during the 22-hour flight to America, so they were less eager to interact with me all the time. Of course, the Salvatores went to the kitchen to cook and make sure my shelf was stocked with meals. They were less happy when I gave them a few pointers on how to present the food, as I had no filter and bluntly told Number Eight, who had just served me pasta, that it looked unappetizing and resembled pasta from the previous week. I suggested he use a mold to make it more visually appealing. They were not thrilled with my critique, but that was fine with me.
I knew that my behavior would not change unless I wanted to constantly feel crushed and cry. So, I had to distract myself, and the easiest way was to be irritated. However, I ended up in my craft room, where making diamond paintings became a zen business for me. It allowed me to feel without paralyzing me, and besides, no one would notice me being there, at least not right now.
I realized I needed some blue for my next painting, specifically number 21. I rummaged through jars filled with various chips until I located the correct one. I poured some chips into a tiny tray and shook it so that they lined up neatly. I had a pen with a little bit of wax on the tip, which allowed me to pick up a chip and place it in the correct spot on the painting. This was calming work that made me focus and distracted me same time.
However, my concentration was interrupted when the damn door opened, and several men walked in, Lepard, Wulfe, Colin, and Magnum. Lepard walked over to sit next to me and observed what I was doing. I could sense the leopard prowling in my mind again. Although my picture was not as enormous as the one that deciphered our pack, it still held significant meaning to some members.
Wulfe came and sat on the other side of me, saying, "That looks like a wickedly fun activity. Let me make some tools for us too. Come on, boys, join us. We each have something to do."
Colin looked at me and said, "Ah, I see you're in the original Chicago house. This is a nice little hobby. Do you have more of these?"
I replied, "I have a printer that can print pictures onto fabric with glue, as well as plenty of different shades of stone chips. So yes, I have ways to make more. How about I take a picture of the anaconda and turn it into artwork?" No filter and my sentences did not really look at who to hit.
Colin blushed and seemed unsure of what to do, but Wulfe remarked softly, "Not just an anaconda, but yeah, if you want naked men as models, we're more than ready."
I blushed this time, caught off guard by the suggestion. Wulfe had grown as he talked dirty more and more. Not that I mind per se but I not used him to talk like that.
Magnum chuckled as he noticed my blushing and said, "It's funny to see you blush, but it's also lovely to meet the real you, not just the flea."
I responded, "Over the years, those two sides of me have merged more than I would have liked. Jarod warned me about that way back then, but I was foolish enough not to listen."
Wulfe looked at me, and added, "Jarod was right and then he wasn't. We're not stationary creatures. We evolve mentally as well, so there's no hope that no one would stay the same or that their life wouldn't affect them."
I pondered his observation for a while before refocusing on the task at hand.
Magnum quipped, "This isn't a job for someone with poor eyesight or lacking coordination."
I replied, "But I can adjust the size of the dots and chips. It's not too difficult. However, I like to make it as detailed as possible, so the resolution needs to be high to avoid pixelation."
Colin muttered something in Irish when his chip went awry, and I handed him plastic tweezers to pick it out. In that moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the present and not dwell on my emotions. There was no joy in my life, and I knew it would be so easy for me to fall into a deep depression with just a few thoughts. But I tried my best to avoid those thoughts.
Damon and Mariella walked into the kitchen, where Salvatores was cooking, clearly irritated. Mimi had struck again, and her remarks and comments were causing them to seethe. They were not accustomed to that level of feedback, and it was difficult for them to adjust.
Sensing their irritation through his hive, Damon calmly said, "I see she has struck here too. It's time for us to go back to the drawing board and acknowledge the numerous assumptions and mistakes we've made."
Number four grunted as he worked on making a cake, a comment from Mimi still lingering in his mind. He was still upset about whatever Missy had said to him.
Mariella spoke up, "First of all, she's so feisty, and no one takes into account that the patients in the facility were heavily medicated. They weren't themselves, unlike Mimi. They allowed us to help them without making bitter remarks, as our little alpha female does so easily."
Damon nodded in agreement as they sat down, food being brought to them by others.
He said, "We need to develop a thicker skin and adopt a new attitude. If she gives us a lip, let's give it right back. Not by engaging in shouting matches, at least not too often, but by living with her without fear. She'll learn that we can give as good as we get. It's new for us to let loose and be free with our words. Once this is all over, we can assess where we stand and what the truth really is."
Number two chimed in, "Those are pretty words, but can you actually follow through? Can you truly take whatever she says without retreating to the bedroom to vent your frustrations?"
Damon remained silent for a moment before responding, "It's as much of a distraction for us as it is for her. It makes us feel something, anything, and it tempts us to provoke her, to unleash her pent-up anger. It's not a straightforward task, and we need to see how Mariella can handle it and what it takes. But first, we need to tap into that rage. Only then can we understand what we're dealing with here. It's not my intention to keep her constantly angry, but rather to get her to react, to let that rage burst forth and move on."
Everyone nodded in agreement, and number five added tersely, "It's easy for you to say. You're not the one she comes to and complains about the bitter taste of the herbs she has to eat."
Damon smiled, an idea starting to form. But first, they needed to eat, and observe what the young lady was doing, and then it was simply a matter of learning to coexist with her.
Damon said, "This is new to us. She has no filter. We're meeting her for the first time, without pretense. Let's learn from her and see if we can match her feistiness. Fight fire with fire."
Mariella responded, in a sugary voice, as she noticed oh, so many excellent opportunities to really get Damon angry." My husband, are you sure you have the mental faculties to take her on? I mean, your expertise lies more on the physical side."
There was a note in Mariella's seemingly loving voice that made Damon frown.
He glared at her and snapped, "You know all about my sides, right? Let's see if you can take Mimi on."
Mariella continued to smile and said, "Yeah, I don't have your short fuse when it comes to a woman having brains in her head instead of being a warm hole for you to stick your pecker in."
Damon looked sharply at his wife and said, "Careful there, darling. Remember who you're talking about."
Mariella persisted, "Yeah, there's nothing wrong with my memory. I sometimes wonder if I'm too good of a girl. Is that why you're with me? Am I your fantasy nun?"
Number two disdainfully replied, "Darling, you don't have the correct purity of being a nun. You're almost the opposite of one."
Mariella smiled. She loved getting Damon, any version of him, to fume. Number one, he was getting there. A few more good sentences, and he would explode.
She said to Damon, "My husband, I must admit, I didn't choose you because you're a monk. I mean, even if someone shot you into outer space, you'd be an alien to fuck with. And that's all good. The Bible says to multiply and fulfill the earth, right? So there are doers like Mimi, saviors like me, and fuckers like you."
Damon did not answer. He focused on eating his meal. Mariella was trying, and she was succeeding. Maybe this freaking idea wasn't grand, but they had to try. But why on earth did Mariella have to do this right now? But he realized he needed thicker skin, and fast. Merely being irritated made Mariella react. And if he couldn't tolerate that, how could he stand against Mimi's quips?
It was just a matter of taking a deep breath, letting go, and letting loose. It was a scary thought, almost. But then again, Damon wasn't sure if he could ever be that free. What would it do to their relationship? Make it or break it? If they were always fighting. But then he remembered that time when he had faced Mimi in the gym after she had been with Magnum, and then they had makeup sex. Just perfect.
He realized that he needed to learn how to argue and fight. When he wasn't the pack leader, he couldn't just rely on his status and expect everyone to follow his commands. It was time for him to stop being a coward and face his responsibilities.
He looked at Mariella, feeling determined to try a different approach.
In a calm voice, he said, "Darlin', I understand that you sometimes struggle with your memory, but it's not your fault. You were created to be with me, and it's your destiny. How about being a good girl, dropping your spoon, and looking under the table for your spoon? You never know what treat you might find."
Mariella looked at him, surprised that he had never ordered her to go and suck him off so directly. She wasn't in the mood to comply, nor did she appreciate his tone.
She kept her spoon and replied, "Sorry, Damon, I'm not feeling clumsy today. So you can keep your pants on."
Irritated, Mariella noticed Damon smirking.
Number ten chimed in, finding amusement in Mariella's indignation. "Hey, Damon, what if we one day test her? We could have a big white sheet with holes, and we'll stick our huge veiny shafts through. She'll have to taste each one and guess who it belongs to."
Mariella remained silent, eventually responding in a clipped tone, "Oh, please. I'd love to hear Mimi's response if you were to suggest that to her."
Number eight joined in, taunting Mariella, "What's the matter, sweetheart? Don't you enjoy being ordered to fulfill your duty as our wife? After all, we have the right to choose how you please us. I know you don't require much, just our big, hard cocks in your ass from time to time while you purr like a kitten and suck our dicks."
Mariella ate quickly, stood up, placed her dishes in the dishwasher, and stormed out of the kitchen, furious.
We were busy working on our diamond painting when a very upset Mrs. Salvatore walked in.
Mariella took a seat, glanced at us, and said in an irritated tone, "Be careful. Ten Salvatores think you're interested in them sexually. They have this notion of you sucking them off as I said no."
I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes, while Wulfe calmly looked at Mariella and retorted, "What's the matter? Do you want to taste mine? Are you tired of the flavor of passionfruit? Come and find out what my cock tastes like."
I raised my eyebrows, surprised by Wulfe's sudden change in language.
Colin chimed in, "Nope, Mariella wants an anaconda, right, sugar?"
Mariella exclaimed, "What is wrong with the men in this pack? Is there some lust virus going around, or do you see us as suction machines, eager to devour you?"
I responded calmly, "It's amusing how men seem to forget that we have teeth. One nasty bite and they'll think twice before putting their shlongs in our mouths."
Mariella nodded and added, "You're right. Now I understand why the old nuns had no teeth but still provided a warm mouth and good suction."
I burst into laughter, feeling a momentary warmth and happiness. However, I knew that darkness would soon return. Colin muttered a curse as a stone chip slipped from his grip, and the smug smile on Mariella's face hinted she had used a bit of her energy to make it happen.
I invited her to join us, saying, "Come on, sit with us and work on your project. There's enough space for you here."
She stood up and moved next to Wulfe, pressing her body against his. As she focused on her work, her button-down satin shirt revealed a few undone buttons. Wulfe couldn't help but steal glances at Mariella's creamy breasts straining against the shiny fabric, and as she breathed, her bosom heaved, with her nipples becoming more prominent.
Meanwhile, I was dressed in a simple cotton tee and felt a seductive mood brewing within me. Although I craved physical touch at my core, there was a part of me that didn't want anyone to touch me. I realized that we had said and done so much, yet we were still working towards something, maybe someday.
I often experienced bursts of anger, feeling like a loaded gun ready to explode. It was something that others could sense, but I couldn't help it. I tried not to dwell on Bella's death, knowing that her autopsy had revealed no way for her to be saved. Since it was her last life, she had moved on to wherever that may be. I decided not to ponder it further.
There was still so much in the supernatural world that I didn't know, and it made me want to learn more. However, I was too restless to focus on reading.
Mariella muttered under her breath, "Damn, it's not straight. I need to make it fit properly."
I suggested, "Why don't you use your fingernail to pull or push it? Then slot it in and press it down."
She nodded and replied, "This is fun but frustrating when things go wrong."
I simply grunted in response.
As I hummed softly, I remembered a Finnish song called "Ferryman." I thought about how it related to death, just like in the Finnish national epic, Kalevala. It mentioned a stream of death and a ferryman transporting the deceased over the stream. I wondered if rainbow islands or hell had similar features, but my mind wandered as I embraced a sense of Zen.
Mariella began singing Aqua's "We Belong To The Sea" along with Magnum, and Wulfe shook his head. Colin joined in too.
When they finally stopped, I jokingly said, "Do you guys need a karaoke night? Am I such great company that it inspires you to sing?"
Mariella replied, "Nah, don't always be so selfish. Not everything we do revolves around you. Your ego is so inflated that you think you impact everything and everyone around you."
Irritated, I defended myself. "My ego isn't that big. It's a fact of life that my actions affect others."
Wulfe chimed in, "You're not as humble as you think, my unicorn. You have a big ego and you're not afraid to use it. But it's okay. We love you and your ego too, so don't worry."
I grunted in annoyance, but couldn't help but notice how much I seemed to be at the center of everything. We were in this house because of me and my problems, my crisis.
Colin then said, "Let me burst your ego. I can easily take the blame here. It was all because I went to India that I wasn't here to say that the blood was too strong for you."
Magnum admitted, "I take full responsibility for not being there for you and not noticing that you were struggling. I was too focused on myself after Annaliese, feeling sorry for myself and not paying attention. Normally, I would have realized before you reached this point."
Wulfe reassured, "Don't blame yourself. I know this creature well, and I was aware of the danger that damn blood posed. I should have intervened and warned Colin. Dig deep into your mind and acknowledge your problem."
I responded, "Those are valid points. However, I kept silent and didn't reach out to anyone. Maybe next time, I'll learn that it's difficult for me to admit when I'm not okay, that something is wrong with me."
Mariella chimed in, "That's because you've learned that whenever you ask for help, there's no one there for you. You've always been dealt a bad hand. But it's time for us to learn to be there for you and for you to learn that as well."
Before I could react, Mariella leaned over and kissed me passionately. Her warm tongue brushed against my lips, and I eagerly reciprocated, exploring her mouth. I could taste the remnants of strawberry flakes and feel her tongue against my fangs. She knew my desires and satisfied them completely.
I communicated with her telepathically, "I have room for both of us," and she responded with a deep hum.
Meanwhile, Colin muttered something in his thick Irish voice. Magnum exclaimed, "Damn, will you girls take a few boys with you?"
Wulfe almost panted, "Damn, that's hot! They're just kissing, but the sexual tension they exude is intense."
I didn't care. I teleported us to a room with a large, soft bed. It was time for us to make this happen.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone