Chapitre 46: 6. I Have Nothing.
In my own gym, I could feel the weight of my emotions as I relentlessly punched and kicked. The echoes of my blows reverberated through the empty space, creating a rhythmic symphony of strength and frustration. Sweat glistened on my brow as I poured my heart out, seeking solace in the physical exertion.
The scent of the gym, a mixture of sweat and determination, hung heavy in the air. It was a familiar aroma, one that reminded me of the countless hours I had spent here, battling my inner demons. The dim lighting cast long shadows, amplifying the solitude that enveloped me. This was my sanctuary, my refuge from the chaos of the outside world.
As I took brief breaks to shower and eat, the water cascading over my tired body provided a momentary respite. The steam filled the room, creating a hazy atmosphere that mirrored the fog of uncertainty in my mind. The taste of the food was bland, as my thoughts consumed my every bite.
My emotions were a tempest raging within me. It felt as if I had been on an emotional rollercoaster, unable to find peace amidst the turmoil. The fear of non-existence had haunted me, but the pain of losing my cubs and the suffocating grip of jealousy that Damon refused to release overshadowed it. These burdens made my newfound lease on life anything but peaceful.
I had fought tooth and nail to save my cubs, but their tragic demise left me shattered. Yet, amidst the darkness, seven perfect babies came into my life, bringing a glimmer of hope. But sickness plagued us all, weakening me both physically and emotionally. The pack rallied around, their support a lifeline when I was too feeble to carry on. The weight of their care rested upon me, and I blamed myself for not being strong enough.
And then there was the whole Alaska time. It was good, but my time at the hospital, and those missions, a few of them, and then the accident, all were rolling in my mind. The memories of the hospital and the failures that followed haunted me. The surgeries, the lives I couldn't save—they played on a loop in my mind, a constant reminder of my shortcomings.
And even before all of that, the truth behind Damon's connection with Mariella became clear. I believed it was my own emotions and actions that had driven him away, as he had taught me the consequences of my choices. I was old enough to know better, yet I had allowed myself to seek comfort in the arms of another, foolishly believing I could be part of a pack without repercussions.
I was once again, doing my normal routine of finding blame in me, I pretty much blamed myself for not being a good wife and trying to understand Damon more when he put those babies to sleep in the first place, but I had been bitter and then after I got back in the pack, I just had to show to him I have others.
In the midst of my self-blame, a flicker of self-compassion emerged. I realized that not everything revolved around me. It was a selfish way to think, to believe that this pack and my actions solely influenced its dynamics. There were undoubtedly other factors at play, yet I couldn't help but shoulder the responsibility. It was a burden I carried willingly, for I believed my actions held the power to shape my world.
I could not help myself, as this was just who I was. I was selfless when I saved others, but then again, kind of selfish to think that it was all about me. When in reality it was all about our pack, Mariella's jealousy, Damon's jealousy, other men's need to be with me, and their willingness to rub it on Damon's face.
I had convinced myself that it was entirely my fault for getting caught by Nick and Angelus in the first place. I had been careless and paid a hefty price for it. I should have to remember that I am still a very wanted person and even Damon knew and knows about it, he has not yet done much about it. I knew the kill order was still on and my status as Target Omega was still a threat to me. My sloppiness would surely be my downfall, and I hoped to be sharper, not sloppy at all.
I was a master at finding reasons to blame myself, and I had shielded my mind with a "Teflon" layer, making it difficult for telepaths to penetrate and delve deep into my thoughts. I wanted to keep my pain, self-blame, and doubts to myself, not wanting to share them with anyone. They were, as always, my burden to bear, and I would face them in my time and on my terms. And definitely not through sex.
During my time in Alaska, I had learned to talk and to express my feelings and emotions. However, I needed someone other than Salvatore to confide in, someone who wouldn't infiltrate my mind with telepathy and wipe away my pain. But it was for later.
I could feel my rage starting to burn again and my darkness, my killer side, oh it was also awake and trying to push through whatever barriers Damon had put in my mind if I thought any longer what those bastards did to me. I pushed those thoughts aside and let my rage ignite once again. I hit, I punched, using my body as a vessel to convey my emotions and fury to the world. After a fervent and swift session, I reined in my rage and shifted gears. It was now time for me to release my emotions.
I had accumulated a multitude of emotions, as I had allowed myself to truly feel. My emotional well was brimming with various sentiments, and I had no clue which ones would emerge next as I continued to punch, kick, and scream. I reacted, allowing myself to experience these emotions without yet dealing with them. It made me feel more alive, one emotion leading to the next, until a plethora of them filled my emotional wells.
Simultaneously, my willpower, vampire power, and alpha power grew stronger. There was no longer anyone who could extract these emotions, energies and powers from me, unlike before, the whole thing that led my mind to dust.
What set this time apart was my willingness to feel. I was no longer an emotionless robot, as I had been then, more or less. Now, I embraced my emotions, knowing that as a powerful creature, a siphon, and a loader, they could transform into energy. I could harness this powerful, emotion-fueled energy to charge and empower objects.
I had recently discovered just how useful it was for me to load objects, I couldn't help what I put in there but as I had quite many houses and places still what pack did not know of, I had places to test, to put my stuff in various crystal animals or rocks. The only problem was for me to remember not to touch too many objects in the house where the pack was because I would unwillingly load them right up.
And I would have no idea with what. It could be my raw lust, my solar energy, or some crazy mix of energies and my will that I had been testing. Of course, being a part of a pack filled with energy-hungry creatures, this wasn't a significant issue. However, I didn't want to face interrogation about why I was feeling so intensely. I didn't want to relive my memories or have others pluck them out of my mind, treating them as if they didn't belong there.
I was created by an evil and crazy scientist, whose twisted goals for me still haunt my thoughts. I was created to be a crazy super werewolf, a killer with no mind of her own. But amidst the darkness, I found purpose. Over the decades, I have held onto various purposes, and perhaps, I still cling to them.
My mind, brimming with power and emotions, seems destined to be this way. Damon and Mariella, always reminding me of our non-human nature, attempt to manipulate my mind and memories, they are trying to twist my memory like humans would have, time would heal my wounds, but when I am not human, my mind and my memory aren't humane. Human attributes are those very human traits I lack.
I am unique, the sole representative of my species, a subspecies of my own. No one will ever be like me, just as my children and cubs will have their distinct species. Damon and the rest of the pack may share a common species, but not me. And this distinction, among other things, defines me. I hope that one day my pack will realize this truth, but I fear it too.
I do not wish to relive the seven years of torment and agony that shaped me, even though many claim it strengthened me. Sure, I can grow stronger, but every time life inflicts its blows, it exacts a toll and chips away at a part of me. Sometimes, the price feels unbearably heavy.
I remember how damn hard it was too lose that shell around me after that seven years, and maybe part of it is still on. What I knew was that when those cubs died in my arms, I had to use every ounce of my will and determination, not to let that shell back on.
I feel so much more without my shell, but I remember how it kept me safe, no need to suffer. But me to react, to feel it is new to me, scary even. This pain in my soul will be part of me. I am powerless to change it. I carry my burden and move forward, searching for moments of happiness to hold on to.
What sets me apart even further is that I am a creature of love, while the rest of the pack thrives on lust. I can feel lust, a potent force, but my love, my love energy, is overwhelmingly powerful. Yet, I hold back, using it sparingly.
I learned this from Sylvie during my time in Alaska. She would call and visit occasionally, teaching me that love truly thrives. It doesn't matter whose love it is, as long as I have love. But loss like that is a damn tough place for a creature of love, so I know my pack will never truly get it. I need love, yet I am too timid to express it. If I ever run out of love, I fear I may slip into a coma and never awaken. Love is so important to me, thus I try to find my love where ever I can.
Sylvie once knew a woman, much like me, a creature of love. She told me this story, and it was a true story and it evolved in time into legend. When she lost her love, she fell into a coma for years, trapped in a glass coffin. It wasn't until her former boyfriend, now a decorated soldier, almost a prince, came to bid her farewell and kissed her with his true love she awoke. Even that love had been just a hint of what he had once felt for her. It was pure love. It was what she needed. Through the years, this tale became known as Sleeping Beauty, based on the true story of a woman who lost her love.
Damon's gaze fixated on Mariella as they remained sprawled on the bed, their bodies bare and the intoxicating scent of their sex still lingering in the air. Yet, Damon's desires were not driven by lust alone. Amidst the lingering ache within him, he recognized the falseness of this pain.
He yearned to hear Mimi's story, to be by her side, to feel the rhythm of her heartbeat, to catch the scent of strawberries as it wafted through the air, and to listen to her tale of those who had perished. As the alpha female, Mimi had always shown great care for her cubs, and Damon believed she held the key to understanding their nature. She would tell him who they had been before they died.
He couldn't quite explain why he felt this longing to hear her story, knowing well that it would be best to remain ignorant and spare himself the suffering. But logic and detachment were not what he sought. He desired to embrace the raw pain, to stand as Mimi's alpha male, to share this burden with her, and just maybe, offer her some solace.
Turning to Mariella, who still caressed him, he spoke softly, "My love, why do I feel this need to hear her story? My logical side understands that it's best not to know, to let Mimi bear this burden alone. But still, I yearn for the suffering, even though I know it will be unbearable, and devastating. I can't explain it."
Mariella continued stroking Damon's body, contemplating her response before whispering, "Perhaps she may not wish to share. She has always protected us, always and forever. Without a flank organ to control her, it is up to her to decide whether to tell you. And perhaps... perhaps you want to hear and know because you are her mate. Now you understand the reason, and with our pretender ability, we will see her in a different light. I too have noticed the pain in her eyes after she confided in me. Yet, she wants to delve into this study, to confront those who have lost their cubs. And those samples... each one represents a lifeless cub, and she knows the anguish of holding her own in her arms."
Damon fell silent, murmuring almost to himself, "Darling, we have over ten brilliant doctors in our pack, along with our hospital and Mimi's clinic. If she allows us to be a part of her study and grants us access to those samples, there's a chance we might discover something."
Mariella nodded in agreement, adding, "But first, let's head to the gym. Mimi has been venting her frustrations there for weeks, infusing the air with a particular pheromone that drives everyone to seek pleasure, meaning fucking like crazies, leaving her alone. She allows herself to feel, and I received a glimpse of her emotions from Lepard. It wasn't much, as she has her Teflon armor, but it was enough."
Damon said, his voice filled with concern, "Well, we need to do something about that Teflon, and it's one reason why we need to go through this, just the two of us, darling. But you will have your hands full."
Mariella could feel the weight of the task ahead.
Damon murmured to her, "As I will send the story to everyone, so you will have nine Salvatores, and the boys - Adam, Charles - and the wolves to take care of. And I have no idea what our reactions will be. Hell, I do not know how I will react when I hear it," Damon admitted.
Mariella nodded, knowing it would be a rough time for the whole pack. But she also knew it would be a time to heal, although she did not know how it would all unfold. How could they heal? What would be the best way? Sex? Talking? Or something else entirely?
They walked together to the shower, the warm water cascading over their bodies, washing away their worries. Damon gently chose clothes for Mariella and skillfully styled her hair before they headed to the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as they sat down to eat. They would nourish themselves first before Mariella focused on eliminating this pheromone.
After breakfast, they would go to the gym, both of them, to talk to Mimi. Hopefully, they could persuade her to share her story. In a private room, they would share this burden while Mariella would help the others by explaining what had happened and what was going to happen. But beyond that, they hadn't made a plan. They couldn't foresee or even think about what lay ahead. Looking into the future was pointless; there were infinite possibilities of what could happen. Only time would reveal their fate.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone