35. Something You Should Know.

I woke up on the sofa, feeling as though I had been tossed around like a ragdoll. My limbs were disarrayed, throbbing and aching from my wounds. The memories of our week with Magnum together seemed to blur together, but the first day was vividly diluted in my mind. I had a backup plan if I ever wanted to relive those moments in full, but it wasn't on my mind just yet.

The hunt was on, and I could feel myself being chased. It took time for me to regain control over my panic, to prevent myself from causing more harm. He had stabbed me roughly 15 hours ago, so healing would take time. Exhausted, I made my way to the kitchen to try and eat something, but the burning sensation in my muscles reminded me of the ordeal I had endured. As I placed a few smoothies and pieces of meat on a plate, I noticed a glass of juice on the shelf - my special drink.

Fine, I thought. We'll knock ourselves out this evening. I didn't want to provoke him any further, so I kept my thoughts to myself as I carefully ate. I couldn't eat too much, as the multitude of stitches in my internal organs caused intense pain. I was determined to endure this and let him have his little tantrum, but I couldn't help but wonder if there would be any hint of emotion or passion during this week of cold, detached torture. I had already planned my own lesson, and my reaction to this situation. I wanted to see where it would lead and what my lesson would be.

As he kept his promise, I knew I had also given him a challenge of my own. Unfortunately, I hadn't been able to carry it out yet. Now seemed like the perfect time once my initial reaction had subsided. It would be one part of my overall lesson to him. It took time for me to eat what I could, and then I went to bed, lying down and trembling in a ball. The feeling of being chased and hunted lingered, and I was too tired to fight it.

I tried to conserve my strength and calories, but the feeling became so overwhelming that it drove me to move restlessly around the house, checking every door and window. Deep down, I knew it was useless, as he could easily teleport here. But I couldn't resist the compulsion to do it. He was probably implanting the idea in my mind, but I refused to let it bother me. Let him play with me so that I could give him a lesson.

Of course, if he rose up to the challenge, I might reconsider or let go of my lesson. But if this emotional coldness persisted, I was determined to teach him about passion and emotions. Only time will tell. After seven hours, I grew tired of my pacing, as my wounds would start bleeding when I overdid it. I went to the fridge, grabbed that damn glass, and downed its contents in a huge gulp. Then I simply went back to the couch and let myself relax.

I was weary of constantly apologizing, yearning for a moment of tranquility. However, in my flawed world, peace seemed elusive. As consciousness faded, I hoped for a surge of passion this time. But once again, I awoke confined to one of Damon's frames, remnants of his previous master sessions. The scent in the air revealed our location, the cellar of our original sex dungeon in the Azores. Damon had transformed it into a chamber of torment. The whip, laced with pure platinum, seared my flesh, delivering the excruciating pain.

Not what I wanted. He repurposed his instruments to be used now on torture, which now held a twisted connection in my mind. Perhaps he aimed to draw out this side of me, ensuring I would never desire such treatment again, reserving it for Mariela. Surprisingly, she was nowhere to be found; he had never brought her here. I wondered why, even as I struggled to endure the agony and panic. Yet, amidst it all, there was no passion in Damon. None. He harbored a singular goal, and even in the depths of torment, I couldn't help but question why.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he manipulated my memory once more. Silently, his hand caressed my body, igniting a surge of electricity as he seized one of my chakras, my alpha chakra, and placed it directly over my pheromone glands, burning it in place. The pain overwhelmed me, and I lost consciousness.

Upon waking, I remained strapped to the rack, agony coursing through my chest. Damon etched a new magical symbol onto my skin, his forearms adorned with peculiar tattoos that appeared to come alive, a manifestation of his magic. As he carved with his enchanted pen, tendrils seemed to flow into his fingers.

His gaze met mine as I lifted my head, yet he remained silent, devoid of emotion, fixated solely on the symbol he was etching onto my chest. Once again, it became clear that he desired me, but for what purpose? Was I merely a source of magical energy, a mere vessel? I had no answers. After carving in his time, it was time to slash and stab again. He continued his relentless assault until the pain forced me into unconsciousness.

Once again, I found myself awakening on a cold, unforgiving steel table in the heart of Damon's dissection chamber. I was utterly paralyzed, unable to move a muscle, yet every sensation was amplified. The searing pain coursed through my body, causing me to break out in a cold sweat, but I couldn't even tremble. Suppressing my rage, I refused to give Damon the satisfaction of a meal from my anger. Instead, I endured everything - the suctioning of tissue from within me, the meticulous sewing of my vessels and organs. Each action is accompanied by a chilling reminder not to tell anyone, not to seek healing. In the evenings, I was forced to drink a drugged juice, and before losing consciousness, an injection was mercilessly plunged into my heart, sending excruciating waves of pain that would knock me out.

Upon regaining consciousness, I always found myself lying on a couch. This torment continued for an entire week, orchestrated by Salvatore. But on the seventh day, he deviated from his usual routine. He didn't warn me, didn't instruct me to drink anything. Instead, he simply patched me up, abandoning the surgical procedures. Dressings were applied, but not a drop of his blood for healing.

His clinical demeanor remained unchanged as he looked at me and uttered, "I have removed all of my blood, healing boosters, everything. The medbay is locked down. You won't have access to it anymore. So, no more healing for you. You can carry on with your life."

As the last remnants of consciousness faded, I felt a piercing pain in my heart, robbing me of coherent thought. Throughout this ordeal, Damon had shown no emotions, no passion. It was as if he was merely fulfilling his duty. He had taken the time to burn my chakras in place, but had never placed his against mine. Every day, he meticulously carved magic symbols into my flesh, adding additional elements to the intricate design. Yet, he never intertwined his symbols with mine.

When I finally awoke, my body was covered in blood, the bandages unable to contain the seepage. It became clear to me that he felt nothing for me. But I, on the other hand, had developed feelings for him. And now, I was determined to reveal them in their raw, pure form. He would have no choice but to acknowledge and accept them.

I spent the past few days mending myself and recovering from my injuries. It was already mid-November when I finally felt well enough to confront him and teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget. I had prepared everything I needed for this moment - my supplies, my powers, my body fueled with rage. As I made my way to Ireland Castle, I noticed the festive decorations adorning the halls, signaling the upcoming Christmas celebration. The sight didn't faze me; let them have their joy while I unleashed my fury.

Dressed in my gym attire, with loose cotton pants and a snug top, my pitch-black hair tied back in a simple ponytail, I entered the living room (or whatever they called it). There, I saw wine bottles scattered around, Mariella sitting in Damon's lap, and him referring to her as "baby." Each sight fueled my rage even more, like ammunition for a burning fire. Without hesitation, I pushed Mariella aside, grabbing Damon by his shirt.

I looked into his eyes and said, "You reacted. Now it's my turn. Come on, face it like the man you should be."

Turning my attention to Mariella, I sneered, "I'll let you know, Princess, where you can collect him after I'm done with my reaction."

Mariella stood there, flabbergasted, but I exerted enough of my alpha power to make it clear that she stood no chance against me. It was a little lesson for the princess - a reminder that if I wanted Damon, I could take him without her having any power over the situation.

I teleported to the original house in Arizona, finding it still standing. Memories of our first ever gym sex, this was a very well-sanctified gym, lingered in the air, or perhaps it was just a faint recollection in my mind. Nevertheless, it was exactly what I desired. This was the perfect place for my lesson, a way to take this from him if he intended to strip away from me our master sessions. The living room remained unchanged, the very sofa where he had shared moments with Mariella when I first met her. The medbay, where he had tended to me upon our initial meeting, stood as a reminder of our intertwined past.

Without uttering a word, I firmly grasped Damon's muscular arm and pulled him along, despite his evident irritation and the lingering scent of beer, sex, and debauchery.

We arrived at the gym, and with determination, I declared, "Now, let me show you how this is supposed to be done."

Approaching a set of crystals, I whispered an incantation crafted by Wulfe, sealing the gym so Damon couldn't escape. There would be no mercy here.

Approaching him, I swiftly and forcefully kicked him in the groin, simultaneously expressing my outrage, "You worthless piece of shit! How dare you call her 'baby'!"

My face contorted with pure rage as I advanced towards him. He groaned, clutching his injured groin, and I took a few steps back before delivering a powerful punch to his ribcage.

"You swine! How dare you love her more than me!"

He began to grasp the severity of the situation, his eyes flashing with recognition.

Adopting a defensive stance, he spoke with a cold and unyielding voice, devoid of emotion, "If you think, Mimi, that I will allow you to beat me without retaliation, you are sorely mistaken. But I won't be there to mend your wounds once I've beaten you."

Without hesitation, I pivoted and landed a swift kick to his knee, hissing, "How dare you have Christmas without me!"

He attempted to strike back, but I swiftly countered, always expressing my unfiltered opinions, "How dare you forget me!"

Another kick, this time to his back. "How dare you not love me!"

And a powerful punch to his jaw, "How dare you crush my heart!"

My assault showed no mercy as I unleashed my pent-up rage upon him. He tried to defend himself, attempting to strike back, but my fury and determination knew no bounds. I screamed at him, hissed at him, leaving no doubt about my true feelings. Through our packbond, I channeled my emotions, unleashing them upon every single Salvatore and any other men who dared to cross our path. My face twisted into a mask of anger, my emotions palpable to all.

In addition to my relentless physical assault, I also seized the opportunity to erase Mariella's marks with my teeth, replacing them with my own. Simultaneously, I sank my teeth into his pheromone gland, repeatedly hissing, "Mine!"

My claim nearly paralyzed him. He didn't fight back, but there was something entirely new in his expression as he looked at me - surprise mixed with uncertainty. But I wasn't finished yet. As he tried to get up, I landed a devastating roundhouse straight to his chest, knocking him onto his back. I straddled him, sinking my teeth into his pheromone gland, marking him as mine.

The emotions on my face were evident, and my voice carried them as I cursed, screamed, and hurled inventive insults at him, like "sweaty hairless ball sack, ", "disgusting excuse for an alpha male" or "Mariella's personal fucktoy."

After he was broken, unable to move, and groaning in pain, I walked over to the crystals and shut them down. I grabbed Damon, teleporting him to a separate bedroom, not the main one that belonged to him and Mariella, although I had done some work there, too.

Damon lay broken and gasping in the bed, unable to speak clearly. I secured him in spiked shackles that were attached to the wall, ensuring there was no way for him to escape.

I sealed the room, and then I spoke to him, "I never made a promise, but I have one more thing to show you. I never had the chance to do this to you before, but now that you are mine, my mate, my alpha male, I have the right to your body as well. It's time for you to experience this. Mariella won't be able to remove my marks from you or my scent. I have taken you, and you surely know which one of us is the stronger one now."

I removed his pants and shirt, leaving him naked, shackled, and helpless. I attached a collector to his thick, veiny cock. I had an empty tank waiting to be filled. It was for my reserves. Then, the real fun began. I had done this to Charles and Adam once before, and I had threatened Damon with it, but now, I finally had the chance. I didn't bother removing my clothes.

I straddled him, kissing him, dominating him. He tried to kiss me back, but the pain made him gasp and squirm. I nipped at his jaw, and his neck, not drawing blood, but delivering sharp bites that caused him to shudder and gasp. I licked away any blood that escaped, tasting it on his fingers, knuckles, palms, and wrists, as I felt the tank filling with his essence. It didn't bother me. I continued, licking the mating mark I had carefully crafted on his neck, his pheromone glands, delivering more sharp nips with my teeth.

He was trembling, his voice hoarse as he pleaded, "Oh my god, baby, please..."

I had my playlist on, the raw tunes filling the room as Alice Cooper's Poison began to play. It was a random choice, but it set the mood perfectly. As I finally took the collector out of Damon's cock, a mixture of anticipation and desire coursed through me. I started to lick, bite, and touch him, causing his hips to buck and his curses to grow louder. The healing energy within him began to work, fueling his arousal even more.

With no mercy, I continued to torture him, relishing in his shudders and the way he lifted his hips in response. When he was on the brink of climax, I slowed my pace, prolonging his torment. He begged and pleaded, his voice filled with need. Succumbing to his pleas, I took his huge cock in my mouth, sucking, biting, and swallowing his thick load. I tormented him relentlessly, his roars echoing in the room. He was sweaty and trembling from the aftershocks as I prepared him for the next release. His panting grew desperate, but there was no escape from my ministrations. I made him come five times, pushing him to his limits.

Finally, he was spent, his cock slightly softened, and his sack empty. I had satisfied my desires, my belly full. Three tanks full too of his hot bump. Now it was time for the final countdown.

I let my voice quiver with emotions as I spoke, addressing Damon. "This is Damon, a reaction, feelings... What you did felt clinical, as if someone forced you to do it. Let me guess, Mariella? She wasn't too happy when Magnum chose me over her, and he dared spend a week with me. You didn't really care, did you? I've shown you my passion, and my feelings, so you know where I stand. It's clear that you only have feelings for Mariella, your other half. But Damon, I am your biological half. I may no longer be your wife, just a pack member, an alpha female. But my guess is, you have no idea if you even want me. Just know that you won't get a reaction from me when I'm working. I could have been more receptive, more passionate, kissed you, fucked with you. But when I'm in my role as a leader, I keep my emotions in check. I'm sorry if that dampened your enthusiasm when you tried, and I remained an ice queen."

I walked along the dimly lit room, the sound of silence filling the air, not allowing him to utter a word. His eyes met mine, a whole new expression taking over his face, as if he had truly seen me and not just the empty shell I had become under that spell.

My voice was raw with emotions, "You yourself admitted it was my bones in that spell, but it affected you, too. You witnessed the hollowness within me, the depths of despair. Yet I hold no grudge against you. I understand the spell transformed you, perhaps back to who you once were, but not anymore. I have the clarity of mind to see beyond the spell, but maybe it was easier for you to hold on to that memory, to keep me as a freak, scarred, and broken, so you could rid yourself of your feelings for me. But I will always love you. I have learned my lesson. Our love, as one-sided as it may be, will forever live within me. I will always carry a piece of you within me. Let me show you."

I approached a nearby table and picked up a decrepit-looking dagger. Its ancient appearance gave away its age, a relic I had stumbled upon during a gig. The handle bore an inscription in vampire language, "Damon Salvatore." It was my guess that this had been his dagger, the one he used to kill those women. I walked up to the bed, letting Damon's eyes fall upon the dagger.

In a hoarse voice, he demanded, "That's mine. Where did you get it?"

Without a word, I thrust the dagger into his chest, piercing it slightly and plunging my hand inside. With a slight twist, I withdrew my hand, now grasping a piece of his heart between my fingers. 

Next, I turned the blade on myself, cutting open my own chest and repeating the process, extracting a chunk of my own heart and placing Damon's piece within it. Then I placed a fragment of my heart into his chest. He groaned in pain, but as the wound closed, he now carried a piece of my heart while I held a piece of his. We had formed a peculiar bond. He looked at me, his eyes filled with confusion and anguish, and asked, "Why?"

I offered no response, instead making my way to a nearby table where a jar of dried herbs, cattails, sat open. It would cause him pain, but not be lethal.

Generously sprinkling the herbs onto the dagger, I approached his bedside and declared, "You shattered my heart, my soul. Now, I get to break yours and force you to carry a piece of me with you every day, a constant reminder of me."

With a swift motion, I drove the dagger deep into his heart, causing him to tense up. He was bound by shackles, unable to free himself, as the pain overwhelmed his senses. Leaving the dagger lodged within his heart, I walked away, heading towards the portal room. Before I departed, I sent a text message to Mariella: "Original house in Arizona, one bedroom. Find out for yourself. Mimi."

 As I walked out of the portal room into the Alabama house, a wave of warm, southern air greeted me. To my surprise, Wulfe was standing in the corridor, casually leaning against the wall.

He smirked and said, "Wanna share something, unicorn? What have you been up to?"

I looked at him, the dim corridor casting shadows on his face, and replied, "Nothing so wonderful, but I reacted and let it out. Magnum taught me a new way to combine my rage and lust, so I used that to get my message through." 

Wulfe's eyes sparkled mischievously as he said, "Good for you. Come on, unicorn, let's go eat something."

We made our way to the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly prepared food filled the air. Wulfe had everything ready, and I didn't hold back my thoughts, allowing him to see what I had done. I had nothing to regret or explain; it was time to move on, learn to live my life, and appreciate what I had, rather than desperately longing for what I couldn't have.

The longing for Damon, my biological half, was sometimes a physical pain that consumed me. It had always been this way; my body yearned to be with him, to have him near me so I could touch him and smell his intoxicating passionfruit scent. His unique gene therapy had intensified these desires, making them even more intense.

But I kept this hidden from Wulfe; there was no need for him to meddle in my problems all the time. I had learned to live with this constant ache throughout my supernatural life, always craving and needing Damon's presence. Unfortunately, he had been there too rarely, and since Mariella joined the picture, things hadn't improved. So, this soul-deep ache was something I had learned to endure.