บท 58: 18. Twist and Shout.
I acted purely on instinct, without pausing to think. These savage ferals were viciously attacking my mate, my den, and even my defenseless cubs. There was no time to call for help as I lunged towards the nearest feral jaguar, who believed my mate, Damon, was already dead.
I could feel the power in my jaws as they clamped around his throat, the warmth of his hot blood streaming down, mingling with the taste of metal in my mouth. He struggled briefly in my grip, but it was futile. I was a mother protecting her young, and there was nothing I wouldn't do in this dire situation.
My focus was solely on ensuring the safety of my cubs, not caring about the state of Damon. Our sanctuary had been violated, and it drove me to the edge of savagery, mirroring the ferals themselves.
In my mind, I urgently communicated to Number Two, "Help! We are under attack! Three ferals are assaulting us. Damon is down, and I just killed one. They're trying to harm my cubs and mate. They entered from the rear, perhaps through an unseen passage."
There was no response from Number Two, but I sensed he received my message. Without hesitation, I launched myself at the next feral, sinking my teeth into his flank as he attempted to bite me. A searing pain erupted in my hind leg as the other feral broke my femur, immobilizing me. Ignoring the agony, I ripped open the feral's flank, savoring the taste of his innards in my mouth, while his pained growls echoed in my ears.
There was suddenly a flurry of movement, more felines joining the chaotic fray. My jaws remained locked on the fallen feral's flank until someone forcefully tore it from my grip, urging me to calm down, assuring me they were dead. I continued to act on pure instinct, unable to distinguish between enemies and allies in the midst of the frenzy.
A group of Damons dashed into the den, their claws scraping against the cold stone floor, as they bore witness to the gruesome bloodbath before them. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, assaulting their senses as they swiftly took action. With precision, numbers two, four, and five swiftly dispatched the feral intruders, their lifeless carcasses then sent spiraling through the ethereal realm via teleportation. However, the foul stench of death tainted the once serene and loving atmosphere of the nest.
Meanwhile, the remaining Damons scoured the den, while others were already locating the females and their vulnerable cubs. It became clear that the cubs would be safer in the magic house, away from the potential dangers of infection. Damon, was badly injured, his pained groans echoing throughout the den, while Mimi's leg was crushed and her body bore the marks of savage bites. The germs carried by the feral creatures were an unknown threat, making it crucial to protect the cubs from any potential harm.
Mimi and Damon were in no condition to care for the young ones, and the pack couldn't risk contamination clinging to their fur or skin. The decision was made to transport the cubs to the sterile and controlled conditions of the magic house, where they would be closely monitored until they got immortality. However, before attending to Mimi, and the alpha male, Damon number one, they had to tend to the other females who had been whisked away to the operating theater. The clean and dirty ones, as they were categorized, would require surgery before Mimi, the alpha female, could be attended to.
The realization sank in that this once promising breeding season was coming to a premature end. Safety dictated their actions, protecting not only themselves but also the innocent cubs.
Number four had already gotten Mimi flanked, even though she had no more collar. But he had a few flanks with him, and Mimi lay on her side, her eyes half open, barely blinking. Number four murmured something to her. His voice filled with concern.
Three, five, six, and eight were transferring the cubs, their footsteps echoing in the room, ensuring no contamination. After the cubs had been moved and it was safe to transport, number one was taken to the medbay first. The scene was gruesome; his belly had been ripped open, his guts torn, wing broken, leaving a nauseating stench in the air. This was as dirty as it gets. Damon would get a complete overhaul, meaning he would get his organs removed and he would grow new ones.
Meanwhile, Mimi had her leg broken, and several lacerations, and she had bitten ferals. It was crucial to get her to vomit everything out, to rid her gut of any bad germs she may have ingested. Two hours later, number one was already in surgery, operated on by 4, 5, 7, and 8. Number two had moved Mimi into an isolation room, his energy shields protecting him from the ferals' bites. He carefully adjusted her leg, placing it in the correct position.
Her healing process was slower, and she would remain dazed for quite some time. It was a far from pleasant situation. She would not be operated on, too big of a risk of contamination. They had used a specialized spell. Mariella had helped them to get all the cubs out of Mimi's womb, so she was no longer pregnant.
As I woke up, a throbbing ache spread through my leg. I struggled to recall the events leading up to this moment. The memory slowly returned; the pack had arrived after I had alerted them. Someone had told me to calm down, and then everything went blank. It seemed like someone had flanked me or done something to render me unconscious. Now, in human form, I lay on my side, disoriented and heavily sedated. The room around me was unfamiliar, and I had no idea what had transpired. My leg was broken, healing but not very fast.
It took time for the fog to clear, my thoughts gradually piecing together the puzzle. The pack had entered, responding to my call for help. And now, here I was, no longer pregnant. Frustration welled up within me, and I let loose a string of colorful expletives in my mind, directed at those damn sweaty ballsacks, those mean ferals. It was such a perfect time, and now this. I could only hope that the cubs were safe in the magic house, as I was in no shape to care for them, and Damon, poor Damon, had suffered the brutal attack. His belly ripped open.
The door swung open, creaking ominously, and in walked number two. He carried a bucket, and a few towels, and his gaze fixed upon me.
In a serious tone, he uttered, "Damon is undergoing surgery. The cubs have been relocated to a magic house, and you have been given drugs to prevent breeding. Cubs were taken out inside you with a spell so you are not operated. But now, I must be cruel. Empty your stomach, for you bit him not long ago. This will reduce the number of potential germs in your gut."
He injected something into my muscle, causing a sharp sting. Handing me the bucket, he warned, "This will be rough, but we need to rid your gut of any harmful strains. You've had enough. I'll be nearby."
My hair was tightly bound, and soon, waves of nausea washed over me, forcing me to vomit violently. Alone in my misery, I understood the risk of contagion. The drug he administered intensified the torment, making me feel as if I were expelling my insides. At that moment, I contemplated how much easier it would have been to remove my organs and regrow them. But my clinical instincts reminded me that speed was essential, given the many bites and the abundance of bacteria in my gut.
Additionally, Damon's injuries were severe, and I worried about the care his magnificent wing would require for healing. On top of it all, there was Salvatore's impending wrath. This ordeal was a consequence of my insecure cave, and I anticipated the repercussions. However, amidst the misery, loneliness, and pain, as I continued to retch and tremble, number two made occasional visits.
He replaced the bucket, even though I hadn't filled it much, with pure blood, my own blood. His clinical gaze betrayed his concern for Mariela and the wolves. He was doing his best to assist them, knowing that my mistake had ruined our perfect breeding season and caused Damon's grave injuries. Mariela's fangs could only do so much.
After what felt like an eternity of vomiting, I was left weak, devoid of energy, and still in pain. Number two returned, this time with a drip stand and cannulation supplies. Exhausted, I could barely move as he carefully inserted a needle into my central vein.
The large bag of potent antibiotics began to drip, and he informed me, "This is the strongest antibiotic available. You need it. I'll replace it when it runs out, which will probably be in three to five days." And then he departed.
The antibiotic wreaked havoc on my body, intensifying the pain in my belly and head. Already dehydrated, it offered no relief. As the number two entered the room, I could sense his anger emanating from him. His movements were cold and distant, no words spoken, no touch given. The scent of his fury lingered in the air, leaving me to wonder if it was directed at me or the ferals. Lying on the bed, weak and in agony, I empathized with their ability to hear thoughts, to perceive hidden emotions. My leg, still not healed properly, added another layer of torment to my suffering.
Exhaustion washed over me, making it difficult to stay awake when someone returned to change the antibiotic. Despite my possibly contagious state, the pack seemed indifferent, their gazes cold and clinical. A thought crossed my mind that Princess Mariella had once again manipulated the entire pack against me, but it was a fleeting concern.
When this ordeal was over, and the holidays arrived, it would be my time. No longer concerned with the pack's desires or activities, my holiday would be solely for me. And if Princess dared to complain afterward, I would respond accordingly.
Mariella was filled with worry as she stood in the medbay, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the faint lingering scent of the hospital surrounding her. Damon lay sleeping, his pale complexion causing concern to etch itself onto Mariella's face.
Fury burned within her as she thought about Mimi and how her cave had not been protected like theirs had. This left a route for feral creatures to attack Damon. Mariella knew she needed to talk to him about not venturing into such dangerous situations alone, whether as a feline or a wizard. If he had gone as a wizard, he could have used his spells to defend himself against the ferals. But it was clear to her that Mimi was to blame once again, ending the breeding season prematurely before it even began.
Mariella had made sure that the men were there to comfort Mimosa, Shadow, and herself. She reminded everyone about the germs in Mimi's guts, emphasizing how contagious she would be. She instructed everyone to avoid unnecessary contact with her. Mariella had even arranged for Salvatore to provide Mimi with the strongest possible antibiotics through intravenous drips, without sedating her. It would serve as a lesson to that audacious little woman. Those antibiotics would not be painless to have when awake, but little suffering would teach the little bitch.
Once Damon was healed, Mariella knew she would have to calm Salvatore's rage and then plan a holiday in the Azores, followed by some time in an Irish castle. She had no intention of allowing Damon to spend any more time with Mimi once the holidays were over. The thought of witnessing Mimi's reckless actions and ruining her plans seemed like a satisfying revenge.
Mariella questioned whether she even wanted the breeding season anymore. The idea of just enjoying pack life and observing the consequences of Mimi's actions appealed to her greatly. Above all, her focus remained solely on Damon's comfort and well-being. Thoughts of Mimi or anyone else were pushed to the background as Mariella's unwavering determination to protect her beloved Damon took precedence.
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