Capítulo 175: 15. Cruel Summer.
Mariella looked at Damon, her eyes drawn to the furrowed lines on his forehead as he stared out the rain-streaked window. The pitter-patter of raindrops filled the room, creating a somber atmosphere. Damon's hunched shoulders and clenched fists revealed his distress, as if his body was trying to contain the turmoil within him. His handsome face, usually so calm and composed, now bore an expression of annoyance and unease, etched with worry lines.
Curiosity gnawed at Mariella as she approached her husband. She could sense his inner turmoil, but couldn't fathom what was causing it.
Concerned, she mustered the courage to ask, "What's your problem?"
Damon let out a heavy sigh, his breath mingling with the damp air of the room. They were in one green room full of vibrant plants but despite them; he felt restless. Deep down, an overwhelming sense of distress weighed on him, a heaviness that threatened to consume him. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was on the verge of losing something immensely precious, yet he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Self-doubt gnawed at him, making him feel like a fool, an oblivious idiot who couldn't see what was right in front of him.
With a heavy heart, Damon replied, "I can't shake this feeling, this pain, this urgent need to help someone in desperate need. But I can't figure out who it is. You're okay, our pups are okay, our wolf babies are okay, the wolves are okay. I just don't know. It's like I'm about to lose something so incredibly precious, yet at the same time, I feel like I'm being a complete jerk for no reason."
Mariella, her own emotions running high, confessed, "I feel like I'm being betrayed again, cheated on in a way that I can't quite grasp. It's like something is deliberately keeping me from seeing or sensing the truth, but it's all so frustratingly vague."
Damon nodded, his mind racing to make sense of it all. "It could be the stress of taking care of the puppies," he revealed, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "About a week ago, when I was retrieving meat from the big freezer, I stumbled upon a yak carcass. I have no recollection of how it got there, and it's been bothering me ever since."
He shook his head in frustration, trying to regain his focus. Being an old creature, sometimes he let details slip by, making him feel even older when these lapses occurred.
Mariella tried to offer some reassurance amidst the chaos. "It's a stressful time for us, Damon. We can't always pay attention to every single thing. Maybe we're overreacting, or maybe there's a rational explanation we're missing. This feeling, though, it's so damn unsettling. It makes me angry, makes me feel powerless, like a helpless witch."
Damon's voice was tinged with resignation as he replied, "I know. It's a freaking awful feeling, and it's frustrating that there's nothing we can do about it. We have no clue why we're feeling this way, but we have to let it be, ride it out, and hope for some clarity or resolution. And damn, that weather outside is just as nasty as what we're feeling inside."
Adam entered the green room. He could smell flowers in the air, but it did little to help his unease, his gaze falling upon Damon and Mariella. An air of worry enveloped him, clear in his guarded posture and tightly clenched fists as if he were restraining his temper. Damon observed these subtle signs, merely passing observations.
Clearing his throat, Adam spoke with a hint of apprehension, "Could one of you speak with Mimosa? She's engulfed in a deep sadness she refuses to share. She claims it wouldn't help, even if I knew. Ignorance is apparently better."
Damon and Mariella approached Mimosa, nestled in her basket, emitting sighs of desolation. Her cubs huddled nearby, yet their mother, a magnificent tricolored wolf, appeared burdened by an unseen weight. Her usual joy of motherhood was replaced by a snout buried between her paws, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Examining her, Damon found no physical ailments, but suspected Mimosa's sensitivity allowed her to glimpse a grim future. The suffering of others often weighed heavily upon her. However, this was not the time for despair. She had cubs to care for, a duty to embrace. Despite Mariella's role as a savior and Damon as a healer, they couldn't save everyone. Mimosa's distress must be addressed.
With each flash of lightning and rumble of thunder, Mimosa trembled, her immense sadness palpable to Mariella. Perplexed, Mariella contemplated the paradox of this being the prime time for breeding and cubs, yet Mimosa remained immersed in sorrow. Perhaps talking would alleviate her pain, as it had for others. So Mariella settled beside Mimosa, her hand caressing the thick, luxurious fur, reminiscent of an Alaskan malamute. Thoughts of grooming and providing lighter fur crossed Mariella's mind, but the warmth of their surroundings rendered it unnecessary.
After a soothing stroke, Mariella observed that Mimosa's sadness persisted, almost as if her heart had shattered.
She inquired, her voice gentle, "What plagues you, Mimosa? Why do you carry such sorrow?"
Mimosa let out a weary sigh, her voice heavy with sadness as she spoke, "You didn't break it. I did. And now, I can't bear it, but I can't escape it. I wish I had broken it, but not yet."
Her voice trembled, her gaze fixed on the ground. It was evident that whatever she had done was truly terrible, and she was struggling to come to terms with it.
Damon approached from the other side, his patience wearing thin. He crouched down, his alpha authority asserting itself. He couldn't tolerate breeding females behaving this way. His voice lacked amusement or gentleness; instead, it dripped with impatience and irritation, demanding answers.
"What have you broken?" he demanded.
Mimosa let out another sigh and replied, her voice filled with resignation, "A spell, a powerful spell. Freya Michaelson, Damien, and the mischievous Sark were involved. And now..."
Her words trailed off, the weight of the situation evident in her voice.
Damon's irritation grew, his voice becoming terse and impatient. "Are you saying we have a spell on us, on me and Mariella? Who the hell are Damien and Sark? What in the world are you talking about? This is pure nonsense. Now is not the time for fairytales," he snapped.
Mimosa nodded sadly, her voice barely a whisper, "The spell affects the entire pack. We must endure it for now. I'll let you know when it's over. No fairytales, but I wish it were just that..."
Mariella interjected, her irritation palpable, her voice filled with strength, "We won't allow any spell to control us. That damn second-hand witch, Freya, thinks she has the upper hand, but she's sorely mistaken. We will break this spell."
Her eyes flickered with purple hues as she tapped into her magic, determined to find a solution. She could feel the tendrils of the spell in the air, like a giant spider web ensnaring them all, except for Mimosa. Taking Damon's hand, they both felt the malevolence of the spell.
Mariella showed Damon the intricate web of magic, and together they began unraveling it, painstakingly removing each malicious tendril. They could sense the darkness that had seeped into their beings, a rot that needed to be expelled. They focused on their target, methodically dismantling it, one nasty tendril at a time. They performed purification spells to protect the young ones from the black magic and weaken the spell. The house soon filled with the scent of burning herbs, the air thick with magic and the echoes of their chanting.
The Salvatores, Adam, and Charles all joined in, a united front against the spell. It took them three grueling days to fully dismantle it, while they ensured the safety and care of the puppies.
The enchantment shattered, and Damon's memories flooded back, overwhelming him with the recollection of Mimi, Damien, and the world as reality snapped back into place. Mariella, too, regained her senses. They stood there, gazing at the outside world and at each other.
Damon's concern shifted away from Mimi herself, focusing instead on the cubs growing inside her. They were his, and his alone. The thought of their immense power falling into the wrong hands ignited a fierce protectiveness within him. Mimi had better keep them safe, or she would witness the consequences of endangering his offspring. The very thought of her stoked his anger and deep-seated hatred. She was nothing but a worthless, obligatory evil, and he had truly come to despise her.
Mimosa let out a sigh and spoke softly, her muzzle resting between her front paws. "You should have waited another five or six days. It wouldn't have been as difficult. You're only going to break your own heart."
Damon crouched down beside the wolf, his impatience clear in his voice. The arduous process of breaking the spell had left him on edge, leaving little room for cryptic messages.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded.
Mimosa fell silent for a moment before continuing. "Mimi, that's what. Damien is currently gaining her trust, aided by Sark. But that's not the worst part. Mimi has just had her fourth litter. She's been nursing all of them, draining her energy. You know what that does to her condition."
The wolf sighed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She didn't hate Mimi; she understood Mimi had plans for Damien, plans that took a toll on her. Yet, Mimosa couldn't shake the feeling that she should have pushed harder and demanded to know Mimi's plan. But the dynamics of pack life had changed her, turning her into something far from perfect. Lust had clouded her mind, and she knew it would take a long time to mature and become more than just a sex machine.
Mimosa's voice wavered with sadness and regret as she spoke. "Mimi feeds all the meat Damien brings to the pups, and that's fine. There's no issue there. But Mimi no longer has enough energy to sustain the puppies growing inside her. She's also sick, and she will lose her firstborn, a snow leopard girl, cradling her in her arms as she passes away. The rest of the litters won't survive either. In a week, Mimi will give birth, but none of the puppies will be alive. They are perfectly formed, but lifeless. Yet Mimi, believing she's a cat, simply buries each litter, one after another."
Her voice trembled, and tears glistened in her eyes as she fought back sobs. The room fell silent, filled only with the weight of her words.
"Somewhere in between," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Damien probably captures Mimi and those precious cubs. But the horrors that await them... I can't bear to imagine. Sark, the merciless one, revels in dissecting the living. And Damien, he will corrupt those innocent souls, raising them as his own. I don't even know where Mimi is anymore. She has forgotten us."
Her voice quivered, carrying the weight of sorrow and helplessness. "Mimi has become chaos, a twisted result of the magic that still binds her, unbroken even in her shattered state. And here's the cruelest twist of all - in Mimi's eyes, Damien is a good man. If you were to go there, if Mimi were to catch your scent, she might seek safety in Damien's arms."
Damon's silence hung heavy in the air. The thought of an entire litter, his offspring, facing such a grim fate was unbearable. Mimi and their cubs had to be saved. At that moment, his distress and pain swelled within him, threatening to burst from his chest. His love for Mimi faded, replaced only by his desperate need to protect his heirs.
Mariella's eyes filled with tears, mirroring Damon's anguish. She had witnessed it all: the struggle, the sacrifices. There had been no other choice. As for the survivors, they were emaciated, shivering in the cold, and filled with fear. Mimi did what she could, but sometimes it simply wasn't enough. Mariella, too, had become their savior, ensuring that not a single innocent life would be lost.
Damon needed to regain his strength, to become functional once more. But in his mind, rage and despair waged a relentless battle, leaving Mariella unsure of how to offer solace. He was an alpha male, driven solely by the instinct to protect his precious cubs. Mimi had become a distant thought, overshadowed by the urgency to secure the future of his lineage.
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