Kapitel 48: 8. Don't Cry.
I lost track of time as tears streamed down my face, unsure of the reason behind my crying. All I knew was that Damon was there, his comforting presence silently by my side. He didn't try to dissect my thoughts or lull me to sleep; he simply stayed close, allowing me to cry against his sturdy chest.
I could hear the rhythmic beats of his heart and catch a whiff of his intoxicating passionfruit scent, mixed with a hint of peony, revealing his concern for me. The pheromones spoke volumes, and I could decipher his worry with clarity.
Gradually, my tears subsided, leaving me with an empty soul and a profound sense of loneliness. Weary of my existence, I felt drained. Suddenly, a melody echoed in my mind, as if Damon had somehow woven our love. That is Bertie Higgins's Casablanca into the tune of our music box. His love for me emanated strongly, along with an array of emotions that overwhelmed him.
Without thinking, I released a portion of my alpha power, and he absorbed it, intertwining our energies once more and granting me a small piece of our combined strength, ensuring that I could always feel our connection.
Feeling slightly better, I gathered myself and headed to the bathroom to wash my tear-stained face and tend to my physical needs. Uncertain if Damon would still be there upon my return, I pondered what I truly wanted and anticipated. Memories of my first litter flooded my mind, the fear and loneliness I experienced before giving birth. It seemed that most of my life was defined by having no choice but to face challenges head-on. Rarely were choices bestowed upon me, and even fewer were good ones.
Taking a deep breath, I sat on the toilet, contemplating whether to take a shower or not. Finally, I exhaled and left the bathroom. Damon remained sprawled on the bed, gazing at me intently.
He beckoned, "Come back to bed, baby, and let's talk. I understand how difficult it is for you, but I need to share in your pain. I need to know. I've been cruel, not just to you, but to myself as well. You gave me and Mariella the chance to forget, to move on without us knowing, but I'm tired of being a coward. I'm tired of my perpetual weakness."
I walked back into the softness of the bed, sinking into a semi-sitting position. Damon lay beside me, his head resting against my body as he gazed at me.
I let out a heavy sigh and spoke, "I understand if this drives you and the rest of the pack to Ireland, leaving me behind. I truly do. But you realize that if it happens, it will be the last time I show my pain. Because what I experienced was so awful that if my other family wasn't in Alaska taking care of me, well, let's just say that the cubs would've ended up in a magical house while the rest of us, including the unborn litters inside me, would have in a coffin somewhere. That's the level of pain I endured. So, are you sure you can handle this?"
Damon replied, "We have our pack, I hope, but I can't promise that the chaos of lust won't lead us to Ireland. However, I'll try to be strong for you so we can heal together and move forward. We'll learn from the past without dwelling on it."
He spoke with determination as I pulled the sheet around me and he curled up beside me, resting his head on my chest. It was an awkward position, and I hesitated on where to place my hand. I wasn't used to touching others, but I gently wrapped my hand around Damon's shoulder.
He pulled my hand higher against him and whispered, "Come on, baby. Embrace me, pull me into you. Hold on to me."
I drew him closer to me, my gaze fixated on the dimly lit room. Across from us, there was wallpaper, a reminder of my human days when my vision wasn't the best. I had worn glasses for decades to correct my blurry vision and my teeth weren't in the best shape, either.
I absentmindedly shared, "Did you know that when I was human, I wore glasses? I relied on them for years because my vision wasn't good. And my teeth weren't great either."
Damon remained silent, so I continued, "Feel free to visit my mind during my story if you can. Although this trauma lives in my soul, there's a separate space in my mind where my memories live. It's a place I've never told you or anyone else about, where the sensations, pain, and smells are still as sharp as ever. It's what makes this so difficult."
Damon let out a sigh, responding, "It's good that you're sharing with me, but honestly, I doubt you'd let me into that space. You've subconsciously protected it, so I'm not sure if I can do anything there. Yet. But baby, forever is a long time, and maybe we can come up with some sort of filter or solution together."
I began my story by recounting the excruciating three days when Damon had consumed alcohol, attacked me, raped me, sedated me, and subjected me to abuse during my heat. As I shared my story, I focused on conveying my raw emotions and the overwhelming pain I experienced, fully aware that this was a true test for Damon.
I wondered how long he could bear listening to my story before fleeing or before Mariella intervened. Uncertain if I would even reach the point of giving birth, I remained brutally honest, sensing Damon's presence in my mind, empathizing with my feelings, and attempting to ease my trauma.
My story unfolded, word by word, and soon I sensed his struggle to continue helping me as he realized the immense effort it would require. Yet, he persisted, still feeling every word. I recounted my humiliation when he exposed me in front of the pack, describing my physical and emotional agony during my heat. I allowed myself to release my pent-up emotions, although it was both liberating and terrifying. I felt uncertain and somewhat ruthless as I paused my story at a certain point.
Damon then encouraged me, saying, "Keep going, baby. Don't shield me. Let me learn, let me feel."
I continued, revealing that as the heat subsided, I once again felt insignificant. All the Salvatores, including number four, worshipped Mariella, while Mimosa and Shadow ensured my quartet would be by their side, but not mine. I remained sore, traumatized, and utterly alone. It was a dangerous combination for someone like me, causing me to withdraw and struggle to cope.
Eventually, it became overwhelming, and my emotions filled my cavern, waiting to be released. As a breeding machine, there was no release. Damon remained silent, but at some point, he had removed his clothes. I could sense his muscles tensing, and almost instinctively, I reached out and began to massage and stroke him, hoping to alleviate the burden I was placing upon him.
I explained to him how I had built my nest up on the roof, describing the musty scent of the pheromones that filled the air. I clarified those pheromones weren't just about sex; they were about power. She had tried to push me away, but I was too strong for her pheromones to fully affect me.
Damon grunted and admitted, "I used to be tougher with Mariela during those seven years, but since you came back, I've slipped into my old ways and made your life hell. I'm sorry about that. I'm trying to learn."
I reassured him, saying, "It is what it is. I don't know if it's me, you, or Mariella that's causing this chaotic race. But it's good that you've changed and have started to recognize Mariela's manipulation. She's not always doing it out of spite towards me; she's just uncertain about something and doesn't know how else to handle it."
He remained silent beside me as I opened up about my pregnancy, describing how I discovered the hidden room and the support I received from my five companions. I could sense him tensing up every time I mentioned them, but I continued my story.
I shared how lonely I felt at times in my nest, knowing that I had to face this alone again. I had seen how the three little princesses of this pack were adored, driven by those powerful pheromones. Damon grunted occasionally, flooding me with his emotions, regrets, and self-hatred.
I said to him, "There's no point in hating yourself. You are who you are, and pheromones affect us all. Sometimes, we just can't resist them. I told you, this is a rough story, and I'm not sugarcoating anything. So, I'm feeling the same as back then."
Damon looked at me, still in my embrace, and spoke softly, "You're a saint, truly. If Mariela were to tell me a story like this, she would accuse me of being a monster, and I would, too. But you continue to understand me. You know, baby, once upon a time, Mariela was the one who understood me. Maybe she still does. But she just lets me do whatever I want, agreeing with everything. It's not easy to explain."
I said to Damon, my voice filled with a hint of darkness, "I am no saint. I have darkness within me, as you know, and a fiery rage that lurks beneath the surface. One day, perhaps, if it ever comes to pass, my rage may erupt, my darkness taking hold, and then..."
Damon interrupted me, his voice understanding and reassuring. "I will be there for you. I too have a dark side, and I understand you. I have placed barriers around your darkness, and I will continue to do so. I will make sure that every Salvatore is aware of this, so they can protect themselves as well. You don't have to fear becoming evil. You can never be evil. But please, continue. Even though this story feels cruel, it also allows me to know you better, to feel your essence. I am curious. Go on."
And so, I began to reveal to him the loneliness I felt when I gave birth. Countless times, I had wished for someone to be by my side, to soften the harshness of the world.
I described the sight of my newborn blue lion, its fur so soft and delicate, and how its eyes opened, just for a moment, to catch a glimpse of me before closing again. Its eyes were as ice-cold and blue as Damon's. I could even feel the tiny wings it possessed. I then spoke of my magnificent leopard, with its blood-red under color and black spots that resembled the night sky. It wasn't a normal-colored leopard, but its spots would have been as dark as a cheetah's. Its eyes, too, were a striking ice blue. And finally, I shared the image of a peach-colored tiger, its eyes filled with warmth, its fur incredibly soft. It was a big tiger, even at birth, and would have grown to be one of the largest ever seen.
"I had 80 cubs in my first litter," I continued. "Everything went smoothly. Of course, I produced milk, but my cubs assisted me, and soon my maternal instincts kicked in. Oh, how they kicked in! Within a few days, I was grateful to have my den, a sanctuary where no one could enter. I provided them with nourishment and care, documenting their growth and progress."
Damon looked at me, his gaze filled with both sorrow and longing. He nuzzled closer to me, and with a gentle touch, he used his magic to undress me, seeking a deep connection. It wasn't about seduction; it was about understanding.
He whispered, "They would have been magnificent, and not being able to witness their existence has been the greatest mistake of my life. The loss of never seeing them, touching them, or trying to save them..."
His voice broke, and I continued to share how I witnessed my cubs grow in that first week - how they moved, how they ate, and how my maternal instincts became even stronger.
I told them how I witnessed the birth of the next litter, and a few days later, I noticed that those three cubs had not touched their bottles. They appeared feverish and listless.
Damon stopped me and asked, "Tell me, what did you smell on them? Think, was it a sweet scent or a bitter one?"
I hesitated, unsure of what he was getting at, but I allowed my memory to fully emerge, recalling the bitter stench emanating from their tiny bodies. It was like the smell of acid or vinegar, with a hint of mold.
I replied, "Bitter, like acid or vinegar and mold. Why?"
Damon fell silent, deep in thought, and I saw his eyes turn white as he delved into the past, examining my sick cubs.
When his eyes returned to their normal icy blue, he said to me, "As a doctor, I would say that is one nasty bacterial infection with some kind of opportunistic fungal infection. Now, I can't be certain, but to treat that, it would have required powerful, almost overpowering antibiotics and antifungals. Even then, it wouldn't have been a guaranteed solution. That infection looked pretty damn bad."
I confessed to him, "My teeth held the power of an euthanizing agent. Just three drops, and they would have peacefully fallen asleep, never to wake up again. But I was weak. Instead of granting them mercy and an easy way out, I prolonged their suffering by administering fluids, corticosteroids, and supportive care. I could see that they were in distress, in pain, but no... I just couldn't do it."
Damon gently said, "Baby, I know this might sound cruel, but if this ever happens again, I will be there to ensure they won't suffer. I can be strong enough to end their suffering. This is... this is a promise, baby. One of my promises."
I fell silent, uncertain of what to say, but I continued my story. As I reached the bitter end, I described my cubs' suffering, my desperation, and my instincts.
Damon remained silent, and my voice sounded hollow as I spoke. "My blue lion, so weak, had not yet spoken a word. But as I held him, his eyes, those beautiful ice-blue eyes, opened and locked onto mine. In a voice filled with pain, he uttered his first words, 'Mommy, it hurts, make it stop, it hurts so bad...' I simply couldn't do it. Just three drops, and he would be free from that agonizing pain..."
I took a breath, my voice trembling, and gazed at the wall. Damon held me tightly, burying his face in my neck, as he listened and simultaneously absorbed my pheromones.
I carried on, my voice now softer as I recounted the tragedy that had befallen my den to my cubs. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and a faint scent of fear. I had looked into their innocent eyes, still filled with hope, as I told my story to Damon in this bedroom, but I was in that den in my mind.
"My blue lion cub, he was so cold already, his fur matted and damp. Exhausted and in pain, he kept trying to look at me, seeking comfort. I tried to purr, but my voice betrayed me. No soothing vibrations escaped my throat. I held him for what felt like hours, his weight growing lighter, his breaths becoming shallower. He grew weaker, more scared, and colder with every passing moment."
The room was filled with a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of my own voice cracking with grief. I continued, my voice trembling with emotion, as I described the heart-wrenching sight before me.
"Then, he began convulsing, his body trembling in my embrace. His tiny claws were still embedded in my skin, a painful reminder of his desperate grip on life. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as I held him, but eventually, he went limp and still. No more breaths, no more frantic beating of his little heart beneath my palm. His claws released their grip. He was gone."
A pause hung in the air, the weight of loss heavy upon us. I took a moment to gather myself, hoping to find the strength to continue. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the setting sun casting shadows on our grief-stricken faces. The smell of Damon's passionfruit hung in the air. He was silent, in my embrace.
"And then, my red leopard, my precious cub, met the same fate. I held him close, feeling his warmth slowly fading away. His pained cries echoed in my ears, pleading for the agony to end. But I was too weak, too powerless to ease their suffering."
The scent of tears mingled with the lingering air in this bedroom, a mixture of my strawberry, Damon's passionfruit, and the bittersweet smell of loss.
My voice was a mere whisper. "My peach-colored tiger, their vibrant energy extinguished too soon. I lost all three of them, and the weight of their absence was almost suffocating. But I had no choice but to carry on, as I had so many living cubs around me. "
Suddenly, I felt Damon trembling beside me, his anguish palpable. Tears moistened my naked skin as he clung to me, seeking solace. He cried against me, gripping me tightly. But I knew I had to finish telling this story, for both of our sakes.
I wasn't sure if Mariella would come in soon, sensing Damon's pain through their bond. But I focused on what I could do, emitting soothing alpha female pheromones, and drawing on my alpha power to bring him some comfort.
I helped my mate calm down, his trembling gradually subsiding as he released a heavy sigh. His voice thick with emotion, he managed to whisper, "What happened next? How did... oh my god..."
I shushed him gently, purring softly to soothe his troubled mind. It was as if a maternal instinct had awakened inside me, urging me to care for him properly. I knew I had to finish telling this story, before succumbing to my instincts that were pulling me in a different direction. I didn't pay much attention to what those instincts were driving me to do.
I continued, telling him about the tears I shed over our lost cubs, and how it almost consumed me. But my sense of responsibility for the other cubs pushed me to survive. I spoke of the internal struggle, how my alpha side emerged, refusing to accept that they were gone. It felt like a separate part of me, distinct from Bella or any other feline within me. But It was still part of me.
As I recounted my story, tears streamed down his face intermittently. But when I reached the point where he became involved, his crying ceased. He listened intently, his eyes wide with shock.
After I finished speaking, he responded, "I have no recollection, none at all, and that's concerning. We need to address this before it causes further harm. If my alpha side can exhibit such cruelty, who knows what else it is capable of?"
I reassured Damon, "Your alpha side sensed danger. It knew what had occurred, and it acted to protect its offspring. It did not want that infection to spread. It didn't harm any other cubs because, even though it hadn't marked them with its pheromones, it still recognized them as its own. You can try to suppress that side, but it's still a part of you, just as it is within me. Perhaps a potion or some other remedy could help. I have no idea how to make our animal side more part of us."
Damon fell silent, deep in thought, still affected by my story. He clung to me, not wanting me to move, holding on tightly. I turned to face him, holding him close, allowing my soothing purr to emerge, hoping to lull him into sleep, to help him rest and recover.
My instinct told me I needed to protect him, to make the pain go away, to make him better, to keep him safe and secure. I had a plan. Utilizing the power of my purr, I successfully put Damon to sleep, and an instinctive feeling urged me to contact Mariella.
So, I asked her, "Are you available? As you may have noticed, I've shared my story with Damon, and he was deeply upset. However, I managed to calm him with my purr. Would you mind coming here?"
Mariella initially remained silent, then replied, "Of course, there are many distressed men here, and we've had to employ some clever spells to ensure they don't resort to drinking. I could feel his pain, too."
I hadn't revealed my plan to Mariella yet. I was implementing it, and the first step involved her presence. I had released my nesting pheromones into the air, saturating the room for the past 15 minutes. It was time for the entire pack to nest, to help us recover from this ordeal. But this time, the females would take charge of nesting, and the males would be the recipients of our care.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein