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18.64% The Salvatore Saga, Part Two: My life in Salvatore Pack. / Chapter 33: 33. My Heart Will Go On.

Capítulo 33: 33. My Heart Will Go On.

When I woke up, I was alone. Once again. But I was fine. I was fine. Now, it was time to be independent again, strong. Determined. Now, I wouldn't need comforting, nurturing. Nothing, because it was a weakness. My weakness. And I had never let go of it, even though I had overcome so many of my other weaknesses.

I walked out of medbay. It had been linked, and went to shower. It was time for me to live again, to be a flea, maybe Mimi. Not sure yet where my life will get me. I loved to be in Charles's arms, in his embrace, but as it was, it was not always possible and that had been the biggest change so far.

Before Mariella, there had been me, mimosa, and Mirella but there had been Samuel and Bran too, meaning more men than women and Charles had been very often free to care for me, I needed it, sometimes it felt like I needed him more than life itself but then again, now I could not get him. Wolves or Mariella got him and we were not the same anymore. He was not the same species as I, and that was too one thing that separated us. 

Life is one hell of a teacher and I had gotten many lessons from it, and now it was time to again keep those lessons in my mind and only rely upon myself, not anyone else. Not remember how safe and wonderful it had felt to sleep in Damon's arms, how his mere scent brought a deep sense of peace and safety to me.

Even though the session had been done for medical reasons, the same was with my recovery. Clinical, medical reason to get me well. Nothing else. That was the thing that I needed to remember. That had not been done because of love. Just by necessity. 

I remembered the session, and I knew why. I could be logical and understood the pack, but I still didn't want a relationship with Damon other than the one I had to have. An alpha female relationship. Sure, there was sex involved, but I would never again want to feel the attraction to Damon I once felt. I could not have afforded that connection.

I can't have that need that they had. That kind of need to be held and to be close. Damon needed to hold. At least Mariella held him and let him hold her. They were often cuddled up on a couch somewhere. I remember how damn many years it took me to do that, and they probably did it at the very first meeting. I needed to move on, not be a lap cat, but the independent alpha female who was the strongest of them all. 

I continued living in my Bolivian house, putting things in order. And getting my shape up too. I moved from here to my house in New Hampshire a month later when I was in better shape. Well, I was 42 kilos, a little muscleless rat, but a few pleasant weeks on gigs and sniping would make my muscles grow. I would not be just home.

I had this need to unload, to do something and I had already hit the gym here quite a lot, and now I was restless enough to go to missions. I developed my chaos power and willpower again, and then I found a new way to use them, or maybe I had a new power.

I could disguise things. It was an incredible ability, and now I knew how to hide certain things so that the designated pack leader wouldn't always see them. Things like my little not-so-good sandwich.

I had been a victim of witches in my day. I'd gone to a PR gig, and every time I went to work, a coven of black witches had cursed me for a week. Every day one witch came at me, threw a little glass ball in my feet so that smoke would hit me, cursed me. 

But they did it always as I was going into the shop and that damn curse would hit me in there while I was getting what I needed and I had an instant craving for certain things. Well, because I'm unique, the curse turned into an obsession, and a sandwich was born that I just wanted to eat.

It wasn't good for me. It always mildly poisoned me, but when they were a comfort. Safety. I had got rid of my addiction, though, with Constantine's horrible-tasting drink. It had taken time for him to find those witches and backtrack, then those curses, kind of anti-curse me, day by day, one ingredient at a time my obsession got away. But the mental pleasure and safety that those sandwiches had made me feel stayed. They were my guilty pleasure. 

The sandwich was a prescribed pre-sliced mixed bread; it was kind of dry, so I usually put some cream cheese on top of it. And then on top of that was cucumber, sharp cheap cheese, and tomato, and this was what poisoned me, tomato. Basil was my passion, my very addiction, then Balkan sausage, and then mint gum on top.

Balkan was just one brand, and they all were only certain brands. The brand had stuck with me, and this very peculiar concoction was my safety, my enjoyment. I could modify it a bit, not much, but like that, cream cheese made it moister. My mint gum was sometimes replaced just by mint leaves, but Damon wanted me not to eat these, for example, the tomato needed, if I ate it too much, dental substances to get rid of, and basil could have become harmful for me if my body would get it too much. Same as mint, and bread and cheese and cucumber were not good for me in the first place or Balkan. 

I was in my headspace; I was not sleeping, and now it wasn't the time. I knew it, my mind is what it is and this would be time for me to get my mind to calm down missions and flea work on the field would help me with that. 

I had always made these sandwiches for stock, and now it was time to enjoy a few treats again in New Hampshire. It was autumn, and this was far enough north that I could soon put a fire in the fireplace. I had one big knitted quilt on my chair. It was huge enough that I could wrap myself in it. It was soft and cozy. I had brought wood into the house logs and was almost ready to put in the fireplace. 

I got into an excellent position in my chair and reserved a couple of sandwiches next to me, a couple of cans of Palma, and put on some nice clothes. My comfy velour shirt and pants were warm enough, so I did not need to heat the whole enormous house just to be warm. Here, now, I wouldn't have to please anyone but myself.

Mariella and Damon had now been fucking in the Alabama house for over a month when Mariella said, "I wonder what Mimi is up to? I mean what you've said, you two had a love story of about a century, and then when the opportunity, she doesn't take the initiative to be with you and get to know you, and you're willing to get to know Mimi, she doesn't want to. Why? I don't understand. It's not just Damien, because he put up with all those decades with you. It must be me somehow. I'm to blame for her not wanting to come to you. I just don't understand."

Damon sighed. Sometimes Mariela couldn't see what was right in front of him. He looked at her, and mumbled, "Darling, I said we were gone, more or less, and I reminded her I always speak the truth, and yes, she has seen us, heard us. I have proved how devoted I am to you and that you are only mine."

Mariella listened to his voice. She loved to hear him speak. 

Damon explained, "We have shown her and the entire pack how the two of us have a millennial love story. We belong together. I've now come to accept that Mimi and I don't exist anymore. And there never will be. And that's okay, as long as I have you."

Damon was silent. It was true. He just had to accept it and move on. To think of the obligatory bedtime with Mimi as an obligation, a compulsory evil. Not something that needed to be done even once a year. Maybe sometimes in heat, or if they ever even would breed, but there were clinical options too. 

Mariella sighed. She was beyond frustrated. She wanted Damon and Mimi to go back together, just as she knew it was possible to love several people's same time, but Damon had given up and Mariella was not sure why. She tried to get him moving.

Maybe if he could see Mimi, there would be a spark or something and said, "I want to go see what Miss is up to. This is a pack, after all. And you are the leader of the pack. Since I haven't been to nearly every house and I'm curious."

Damon closed his eyes, he was scanning what Mimi was doing and where she was, his expression was annoyed as he said, " Fine, Mimi is in New Hampshire doing something she shouldn't be doing, and I've said it quite a fucking lot of times but being the protector of that creature is a full-time job sometimes. She has an enormous house there. No one had been there so much in the pack and since it is Miss herself bought, no wings per se, but there are isolated parts of the house."

They went to shower first. Damon was cursing under his breath and prepared to give Mimi a piece of his mind, and he would not mince his words at all. Damon grabbed Mariella's hand and selected her clothes, put on her hair, and they teleported to New Hampshire.

I enjoyed one sandwich and, for my amusement, camouflaged another on the small table next to me, finished my Palma can, and leaned back. I reached for a bag of very powerful demon kings, Damon and Charles, from the blood heater and sipped them on top of my meal there too. Warm or hot, powerful blood calmed down my wildcat. it had been peculiarly active since the shed session and that feeling of vortex had almost come on me again. I needed to try to calm myself a bit. This chair went with the backdown, so I tilted the back, closed my eyes, and thought I'd rest for a while.

It started again, the nightmare, the Indian, the AI, what was shredding, Damien, pouring jelly, rubbing, putting me on the machine, the fatigue, the metals. No. The drugs in the pharmacy. Someone's hunting. Fear, terror. Sickness, fever.

I jumped out of the chair to stand, eyes wide, my feline fingernails out, and I heard voices. My heart was racing, I was panicking still. no, I needed to get myself calm down. Voices were coming from upstairs, from the portal room.

Damon and Mariella. Fuck. Now, I need to calm myself down. Fine, still won't sleep. I had tried sleeping on and off, but my head being what it was and not wanting to sleep alone, I didn't sleep then. It was one reason I was not in good condition at all. I could manage without it. It took a bit of my resources, but the combination of my will and the power of chaos got me pretty far. Missions would be the best help for that. It would take some time, but it would help me eventually.

I managed to get the sandwich into the fridge and was bustling around the kitchen when Damon came in. I was getting pots and pans, and a few meats from the fridge as I suppose just going to cook. I kept my hands busy so their shaking would not be so clear.

He came at me, took me by the shoulder, turned me over, and asked with an angry sneer in his voice, " Where is it? It's your sandwich, and I haven't told you exactly how fucking bad a tomato is for you and yet you just keep eating it. Oh fuck Mimi, if I have to put my teeth down your throat again."

I was silent for a moment. I had just got myself under control and now I had to be convincing. I got myself free from his grip, not saying a word, just keeping my arrogant expression like he would have just come in and disturbed me again.

I went to the fridge and grabbed a sandwich. I had made these without the tomato because I knew it was bad for me and at least I had just recovered. As I said, I could modify them quite a lot. I gave it to Damon without saying a word. I went to another cupboard, got a blood collection tube and a needle, and took a tube of blood from myself, which I gave to Damon. 

Again, I said nothing as I just continued my supposed cooking. I got my meats, and juicy rabbits on the pan, and put some spices and stock in there, my oven was warming up, and I put it on automatic timer as I put my stew in, so it would turn off, with no fear of burning my meats.

I remained silent because I was still semi-panicked about the complete nightmare and not at all sure what was going to come out of my mouth. I concentrated with all my might on keeping my mind on cooking and thinking about the recipe in case the strong fucking telepath next to me decided to probe my thoughts.

Then I heard Charles had also come to the house. I recognized his footsteps, and he came into the kitchen, wrapped himself around me, and squeezed hard.

He said, " Oh honey, honey, I'm so glad you're okay. Now, come on, let's go to our enormous bedroom, and let me just show how much I do love you."

Charles started to lead me into the bedroom but not to fuck, to sleep.

By the time he got to the house, he had said in my mind, " Honey, I don't think you've had any sleep, but now I'm going to come into the kitchen and put you to bed. No arguments. I felt your panic and you will not go and start pulling missions, but I will help you again. I know there's the company, and you don't want them to know. "

Even though Damon was my protector, he didn't hold this part open toward me. Charles was not my protector, but my husband, my confidant, and my most important safety, and he was very sensitive when I wasn't doing well. He knew exactly when I was in this mood and this was not the first time, not at all.

Over the years, he had gotten more and more sensitive to my needs and my need for safety and that's why I could not get rid of it, because Charles had provided it to me over the years many times, and Adam, too.

I could not trust since Mariella came, Charles would be free to take care of me, but our connection was so deep that he did what he needed to do. I had my insecurities and my neurosis as well. My lack of trust, so to speak, was one of them. We went into the main bedroom of the isolated part of the house and Charles shut the door. I went into the bathroom and changed into my nightgown because it was the most comfortable and would give me good enough contact with Charles.

When I came back, Charles was already on the bed waiting, and I went into his arms. Charles said nothing. He had his aura on, the one that made me obey him and trust him fully. He wrapped himself around me, and I fell asleep within minutes as I felt him holding me tightly. I was safe, so fully safe.


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