Chapitre 57: 17. When Man Loves A Woman.
I lay in our den, tired but happy, surrounded by our cubs and kittens. Damon tenderly licked them, his purrs enveloping us in comfort. I could smell his happiness in his pheromones, a sweet scent that filled the air. He desired to have cubs with me, not to rule or control, but to build a family. As the alpha pair, we were connected, and I sensed that he had discovered my book, delving into the knowledge of pheromones. It wasn't all bad; perhaps I was weary of keeping secrets and acting behind their backs.
However, I reminded myself of what had just transpired - the birth of over 300 cubs. Hormones coursed through me, leaving me fatigued and emotional, yet I found solace in having my mate by my side. The joy of having a family, our cubs and my loving mate, made me understand the envy Mariella must experience daily.
Damon purred, gently resting his enormous head atop mine, his wings extending to cover us. It was a gesture he had never done before, and the overwhelming sense of safety both comforted and frightened me. To experience such profound emotions and then face solitude when he was absent was disconcerting. My mind sighed, overwhelmed by the flood of hormones and sensations.
In my mind, Damon spoke to me, his voice calm and loving, devoid of dominance or threat. "You don't always have to be strong," he reassured me. "Let me be strong for you. I will protect you. Just relax, enjoy, and let us be a family. There is nothing wrong with that."
His words resonated, and I snuggled closer to our cubs, feeling the warmth and security of his wings. They were magnificent, a soft barrier that made me feel peaceful and calm. It had been so long since my soul had sung so loudly. These warm, soft, and protective wings were simply marvelous. Curiosity sparked within me, and I turned my head, gently licking his feathered wing. It carried a hint of passionfruit, mixed with the scent of the outside world and a touch of dirt. I continued with my exploration, content in the moment.
The soft but firm feathers of Damon's wings felt like a novel sensation on my tongue as I diligently cleaned them.
As I twisted myself to reach better, he looked at me with amusement in his voice, "Baby, I don't usually have my wings licked, but I guess you can wash them. Thankfully, they don't have much fur, but they are quite ticklish."
I didn't reply, instead continuing to wash his magnificent wings.
After some time, something truly astonishing occurred. His wings, which I had been cleaning, were not entirely black; they revealed a deep blue-violet color.
I couldn't contain my excitement and exclaimed, "Do you realize your wings aren't black? You should try something called washing up because, mister, your wings are violet!"
Damon turned to look, moving his wing to see for himself. He chuckled, saying, "Well, well, I did not see this coming."
I shared this amusing revelation with Mariella through our pack bond. I was still in my feline form, as was she, but Damon soon said, sighing softly, almost rolling his eyes, "Fine, you had to tell her. I must go now; she wants to wash me. Thank you, baby."
His voice sounded slightly frustrated as he rose up, folded his wings, and walked out of the cave. Thankfully, my cubs were fast asleep and hadn't noticed his departure.
Damon headed towards Mariella, who was waiting for him by the pool. She, too, was in her feline form, but Charles and Adam were in their human forms, holding a large bottle of soap. However, Damon wasn't the only victim. He spotted a few other Salvatores walking in their feline forms, appearing irritated yet prepared to be washed.
Mariella instructed Damon, "First, get into the water and open up your wings. Wet them thoroughly, then come out. The boys will lather you up, and then you can rinse off. Repeat this process until you're clean."
Damon didn't say a word but jumped into the pool of water, swimming gracefully as a feline and spreading his wings. It felt peculiar since he rarely opened his wings in the water or anywhere else. The sensation of water caressing his wings, which were quite sensitive, was both amusing and enjoyable as he attempted to move them.
Mariella exclaimed, "Oh, look at that!"
Damon gazed into the water and noticed dirty water swirling around him, detaching from his wings. They were indeed very dirty, and he continued to move, trying to make them cleaner until Mariella instructed him to come ashore. Adam and Charles began to wash him, and thick, almost black suds dripped from his wings. He could see that the other Salvatores were equally dirty. After the thorough scrubbing, Damon returned to the water for rinsing, repeating the process multiple times until he felt clean.
As he emerged from the pool, it was a truly remarkable sight. His wings, instead of being black, were a deep blue violet, almost black towards the bottom where they met his mane. Speaking of his mane, it had a violetish hue, not pure black, and his fur glistened in the light.
Standing on a warm rock in his lion form, he could see the other males in his pack being washed, and they, too, had wings. Number two and four had wings that were almost as violet as his, while number four's wings were a deep shade of magenta, and five and seven had dark blue wings. Each lion had unique colors in their fur, creating a beautiful tapestry.
Mariella, his mate, came over and whispered, "When I change into my human form, my love, I'll wash every form you take. You are stunning, and I have Mimi to thank for discovering this."
Damon grunted in contentment. Not only was he happy, but he could also feel Mimi's overwhelming joy and love radiating from her like the sun. It was a love unlike any other, and though he considered going back to Mimi, Mariella's nudge and purr reminded him that she hadn't given birth yet and might need his company. It was a hard decision to leave Mimi to be herself and be with Mariella, but he knew it was the right one.
I wasn't disappointed when he told me he needed to be with the others, not me. I wasn't going to be greedy. I had just experienced something truly wonderful, and we would be just fine with our sleeping cubs.
Later, number two came in and removed my collar.
He said, "This will make it easier for you to take care of them in your human form. I'm not sure if there's always anyone available right this minute, but you've been a good girl. You have quite a litter to care for."
He then showed me his lion form, freshly washed, and I admired him. He mentioned Mariella planned to wash them all after the breeding season. I couldn't help but feel happy. I had my cubs, and my pack, and there was little that could threaten us.
It was a mere 48 hours later when Mariella went into labor. The urgency of the situation called for Damon and the rest of the pack to be present, as it wouldn't be long before Mimosa and Shadow would give birth as well. It was the reality of pack life.
Damon's presence was necessary for all of us, and I believe he wanted us to have the extraordinary experience of bringing our cubs into the world in our den, just him and me. I knew I would be fine. I had switched to my human form occasionally to care for and nurture my cubs, feeling the movements of the next litter inside me.
It was time for my jaguar instincts to take over, becoming the primary caretaker for my cubs, both current and future, as I knew Damon wouldn't be here for the next birth, most likely. I felt safe in our den, surrounded by my cubs, and I knew that at some point, Damon would probably come to see us again. But, as always, my happiness came with a price, and I had momentarily forgotten that.
Mariella had only given birth to 90 cubs, but she was exhausted and sleeping peacefully beside Damon, who kept her safe throughout her labor, which lasted only 8 hours. She slept soundly, finding solace in the warm and comforting shelter of his wings. Damon always kept his wings open for her, and Mariella adored being beneath their protective embrace. She yearned to keep Damon by her side and resented the thought of him attending to others. She was possessive as ever.
Meanwhile, our cubs grew day by day, and by the time they were five days old, their curious eyes began to open, and they attempted to move around more. However, there was still no sign of Damon as Mimosa and Shadow gave birth. The pack was occupied with assisting us all, while Lepard, Demon, Adam, and Charles were the ones who aided me.
They hadn't been groomed yet, but I promised them a spa day with me once the breeding season was over, complete with a thorough brushing. I mostly remained in my human form, taking care of wiping and feeding our hungry cubs. Charles didn't need to voice it; I knew he knew Damon was preoccupied with Mariella, captivated by her pheromones.
Damon had been spending most of his time in their den, not as involved with the wolves and other Salvatores who were helping us. They assured me they would be there for me in case I went into labor, and Charles was insistent that I ask for help. According to them, my next litter would be even larger, so help would be necessary. And if Damon happened to be unavailable, they would be there in an instant.
I was in my den, nestled in my jaguar form, on the verge of dozing off, when a rustling sound abruptly snapped me awake. Still groggy from my impending birth, I had been sleeping heavily. My quartet had noticed my excessive slumber and grew concerned, contemplating whether to consult number two about his presence during the birthing process. However, knowing Damon's protective nature, I harbored doubts about his willingness to allow anyone near me.
The sound came at an odd time, considering my cubs had recently been fed. I wondered if someone had come to visit me. Raising my head, I strained my ears, detecting the soft padding of paws. Could it be Damon? But the sound was coming from the wrong direction – the back part of the cave. I speculated if someone had stumbled upon another entrance. As my sleep-deprived brain gradually awakened, a putrid blend of overripe avocados and rotting meat invaded my nostrils, indicating a strange male in my den.
Before I could even process the situation, my instincts took over, and I urgently transmitted a message through our bond straight to Damon: "Help! There's a strange male in our den. My cubs and I are in danger."
My heart pounded furiously as a million thoughts raced through my mind. Was this intruder aware of me and my cubs, or was this a mere coincidence that he had stumbled upon our sanctuary?
Damon's response came swiftly, "Stay still. I'll be there. Keep quiet."
My worst fears materialized when the intruder's voice, dripping with malice and scorn, pierced the air, "I can smell you, female, and your precious cubs. They will serve our purposes perfectly. I will come, slaughter every male cub, sparing the females as we have use for them. Then, I will claim you, impregnating you with my seed, making this den ours. Your mate will meet his demise."
Silence engulfed me as I dared not utter a word. My heart raced, but my primary concern was the safety of my vulnerable cubs, not myself. This savage feline, untamed and ferocious, had invaded our sacred space, unknowingly bringing with him a host of potential dangers. I feared the possibility of infection or harm should he decide to attack. At this moment, I couldn't discern his species, but his voice, devoid of any trace of humanity, confirmed his complete feral transformation. He was a beast that needed to be eliminated.
The stench grew stronger, creeping closer with every passing second. To my horror, another foul odor joined the mix – a damn feral had accompanied him. I chirped softly to my cubs, urging them to remain silent while attempting to shield them from harm. The second intruder reeked of rotting oranges and decaying carcasses. They drew nearer, and I felt a surge of uncertainty wash over me. I refused to let any infection or these wretched ferals come near my defenseless cubs, but I grappled with what course of action to take.
Suddenly, a cacophony of snarling, growling, and the unmistakable sounds of a fierce battle pierced the air. The intensity of the noise was deafening, filled with anger and an unyielding persistence. With cautious steps, I stealthily crept closer to the commotion, driven by the need to ensure the safety of both myself and my precious cubs.
As I approached, my initial assumption that multiple Salvatores had invaded was shattered, for it was only Damon who had stumbled in, his condition dire. A massive feral creature, be it a jaguar or a leopard, had clamped its formidable jaws onto Damon's side, tearing mercilessly.
The sight of blood spurting and his bowels slinking out was a gruesome testament to the severity of his injuries. Damon's body was succumbing, his eyes half-open, seemingly lifeless. One of his wings had been brutally torn, adding to his agonizing state. The pungent scent of his blood permeated the air, a grim reminder that not only was Damon in peril but also the looming threat of infection now hung over us all.
The jaguar, or whatever fearsome beast it may be, raised its head and addressed me with a chilling tone, "Ah, you are a formidable presence, healthy and robust. Still carrying life within, I see. Very well, we require cubs, but only of the female kind. You appear to be on the brink of motherhood, so I shall devour any male offspring, while you tend to the females. And once you have given birth, it will be time for you to experience the presence of your new mate deep within your being."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone