37. Kryptonite.

Mimi stood in her glass cubicle, appearing fit and well despite the nurses' claims that she wasn't eating regularly. She didn't look too thin or pale, but rather healthy and in good shape. Then she started spewing out words—truths and accusations that hit hard. They felt every single thing she said. She knew exactly where and how to hurt them, and the pain was overwhelming.

No one said a word; the pain was beyond comprehension. It was as if something precious had been burnt from their souls, leaving only charred remains. This caused them to feel an intense hatred towards Mimi. They had reached their limit; she had truly gone too far and there was no going back.

Damon had tried to stop her, but her rage was too strong. It consumed everything. There was nothing left in their once tightly bound pack. They felt cast away, loose, and utterly lost. Mimi was to blame, without a doubt. None of them even remembered that she wasn't well, and this was their reaction—an intense and brutal reaction.

Damon severed the remaining bond between him and Mimi. She was no longer an alpha female in the pack. Damon was furious with her. He contemplated throwing her out completely. She had hurt Mariella so deeply that she fainted, and anyone who hurt Mariella earned Damon's hatred. 

They returned to their castle in Ireland, but even Adam and Charles were quiet and contemplative. Something was not right, but the initial shock still clouded their thoughts. Mimi had spoken nonsense, accusing them of being monsters and other derogatory terms. And then, she hit them where it hurt the most. None of them were willing to forget. Perhaps a few of them might forgive her at some point, but not yet. She had acted like a petulant child, not an adult, and it was painful to witness.

Charles had sensed that something was wrong with her, but a telepathic command from Damon silenced his concerns. The destruction of the hive had also shaken him, making it hard to recall his worry, but the pain remained. There was no bond left between him and Mimi. The shock had hit his instincts, quelling them for now.

What no one in the pack knew was that they were still recovering from the same ailment that had plagued Mimi. Of course, her condition was more severe, but everyone who had consumed the bag of energy sorceress would be affected - Wulfe, Damon, 2, 4, Mariella, and a few others. However, no one was aware of this, and their emotional state was not as it should be. This imbalance further hindered their recovery, causing them to lose their affection for Mimi.

It would take several months before they fully regained it. Eventually, they would discover the truth about the situation, and it would serve as a difficult lesson for them all. As usual, Damon and Mariella went to bed, engaging in passionate activities. This lingered in the minds of several Salvatores. Fucking and sex was just their way of dealing and coping with things and Mimi's barb telling them that they were just fucking machines had hit home once again.

Elena and Katherine quickly realized just how skilled the Salvatores were at seduction. When these lust wizards set their minds to seducing someone, there was little chance of resisting. Once again, the pack was attempting to find a solution for their pain by using physical intimacy to cope. Orgasms made them feel, feeling hot hard cock plunging into greedy wet pussy. Moans and groans echoed in several bedrooms throughout that castle. 

They tried to keep the feelings alive, as their altered state instructed them to do so. They just did not realize it, but their instincts directed them to seek ways to feel as much as possible. It was the best way for them to recover. It required a patient, individual, to initially recover enough, to feel something - anything, whether good or bad. They had to keep on feeling, starting with negative emotions like rage and hate. As their brains awakened and their bodies started producing neurotransmitters again, better feelings would emerge. However, the road to recovery would be difficult and painful.

The pack would eventually learn this lesson in due time. They would witness other victims, aside from Mimi, who were also affected. Despite not being in as dire a state as Mimi, the pack members still retained some positive emotions, like pleasure. They continued to embrace these feelings, gradually developing love for each other, but not for Mimi. They had no idea that something was wrong with them.

Any strange sensations or mood swings were attributed to Mimi's actions of burning the hive. They believed that these behaviors were simply a result of that event. It was the diminished neurotransmitter levels that kept them going, and their bodies and brains recognized this. Though their recovery experienced setbacks, they were still in a much more stable condition than Mimi had ever been.

There were times when Damon or whoever would become almost maniacal, needing to feel something. This meant that sex would reach a new level of intensity, sometimes violent, and Mariella didn't need to be the one hurt, but he needed to feel. He might even ask Mariella to engage in rough play, but nothing seemed to be enough. On the other hand, there were moments when they became almost robotic, detached, and clinical, feeling very little.

But whatever triggered them to feel, whether it was sex, raw lust, pleasure, or even activities like eating or cooking, they craved it more. They wanted more as it felt good but in a case like Mimi's, it would long and hard thing for her to try to let those bad feelings come on, over and over again, until finally, something nice would start to feel.

As for the rest of the pack, they had to deal with the loss of their hive, feeling cast away and lonely. They failed to realize that something was wrong. It had plunged them into a state of disarray and many of them sought again relief from the sex.

Wulfe sat on the roof, realizing that it had all been a lie. He knew Mimi would find this amusing, how she had deceived him into falling for her and becoming her friend, only to cast him aside when she pleased. Bitter hatred for her filled his mind, consumed by darkness. Having consumed two bags, his emotions were more pronounced than others. He couldn't see that Mimi wasn't fine, and there would come a time when he wouldn't be there for her, but someone else would.

Then, Wulfe would have to confront his array of feelings for Mimi once the truth came out. Even an old creature like him, who thought he had learned every lesson there was, would have more lessons to learn. Life was an ever-long journey of self-discovery, understanding the world, and exploring one's emotions, denial, and missed opportunities.

Meanwhile, Damon number four sat in a room, holding a bottle of bourbon, as he usually did, trying to drown his sorrows in a drunken haze. He knew that Mimi had struck a nerve. He was only pretending to be the guy Mimi had fallen for, but in all honesty, he wasn't that soft. It was easy for him to play the role of Doctor Damon, and it felt natural for him to be an efficient clinician. He couldn't deny that he had fallen in love with Mariella. Mimosa and Shadow were also incredible in bed and provided pleasant company. He just hadn't taken those steps with Mimi, and he couldn't quite explain why. Maybe number one had influenced his decision, but he couldn't solely blame him.

No matter how much control Number One had over the Salvatore hive, they still had that one thing: at least they had their hive. But it wasn't the same as the amazing hive Mimi had once had. It had been perfect, and he had felt so much for her. But now, it was all gone. Burned to embers, just like his love for her. He used to love her, too. But why did it fade away? He was still trying to figure out what had happened to him.

Well, Number One's core emerged and took over here and there. Then Damien played his part too, and Number Four felt like Number One was taking over more and more as time went by. He wasn't so sure anymore if he had stayed in control, what would have happened? Maybe he would have believed Mimi and fought against Damien more. But Number One, the core, was lazy and good at blaming himself, giving Damien weapons.

Number Four remembered so many times when Damien's influence was clear, and Mimi would point it out. But it was almost always Number One in charge during those times. There was a notion that he was the stronger part, but was he really? Damon, or Number Four's thoughts, were becoming more and more incoherent as the bourbon bottle in his hand emptied and his intoxicated state deepened.

Soon, he was drunk as a skunk. Muttering and slurring his words, he talked to the walls. But there was no one listening to his ramblings. The wolves had found other Salvatores, and Elena and Katherine too. So there was no pleasure to distract him from his pain. He didn't blame Mimi as much as he blamed himself. All those lost opportunities, and now it was all gone.

The bond was gone, and he couldn't feel the baby anymore. He talked to himself, sometimes to Mimi, sometimes to those he had lost, and sometimes to himself too. He berated himself for being lazy, stupid, and not brave enough to love the baby. Number One would force him to love Mariella again, but Mariella wasn't his to love.

The feelings he had for Mariella were similar to those he had for little pussies over the years, yeah, those who he fucked instead of his baby, those he used to hurt the baby. There wasn't that deep connection, between him and Mariella that had driven him to confide in Mimi about Elena and his failed marriage, about losing his daughter.

The need to be near her every time he had to take the lives of those innocent babies, suffocating them or snapping their necks, listening as their cries ceased, one crib after another. And then he had to set them on fire, burning all those innocent lives. It had helped him to return to Mimi, to be with her and feel her love supporting him. Oh, how he missed that feeling.

Despite what Mariella had done to Number One over the years, and even to him, how she had tried to make him talk, it didn't provide the same relief as it did for Number One. She never eased his burden by talking to Number Four. It wasn't his way of dealing with things. Or perhaps not talking to Mariella was the issue. Maybe he should talk to Mimi, his baby.

It seemed foolish at times to resemble Number One, but then again, his hair set him apart, the white strands covering his entire forehead, not just a single stripe like Number One had. He was considering growing his hair long, like Charles, so he could be something different. Number One typically kept his hair neat, and Mariella was the one who trimmed it. But Number Four was contemplating being his own person, not just another Salvatore clone. He had been given this opportunity, and he wasn't going to waste it any longer.

After drinking three bottles of strong bourbon, his hands no longer able to function, he passed out in the dimness of the room. His mind filled with regrets, missed opportunities, lost chances, and old memories. He finally desired to be himself, no longer just one of the Salvatores. It would be one hell of a journey as he set out to become more than just another Salvatore. 

Lepard walked through the dim forest, his mind unaffected by whatever plagued others since he had not consumed blood. He had sensed Mimi's distress for a long time, knowing that she was not well, but he was not allowed to intervene.

He continued deeper into the forest and sat by a stream, even in the winter. The snow provided its own gentle glow, and the moon, though not very bright, was enough for Lepard's feline eyes to see the entire forest. Soon, he noticed Snowleopard approaching him, as beautiful as ever. Lepard stood up and playfully pushed her, and she pushed him back.

"Good to see you, Bella. How are you? Are you sure there isn't another way?" Lepard asked.

Bella, who had once been a part of Mimi but had been set free, just as she had given her existence to Mimosa, calmly replied, "No, there isn't. Don't worry about me. I know it's not pleasant, but for once, I am willing to take the hit instead of her. I have lived a good, long life and left my legacy. You know she needs this to happen. It is just the fact that my time has gone and it is time for me to move on. I have fulfilled my life as a magical feline. My lives have run out."

Lepard nodded and said, "I hate freaking much to lose you, but I have seen it too. They told me. It's fucking frustrating when I can't say anything, but it's yet another fucking bitter lesson for the pack. This is one damn bitter shitshow whole goddamn mess."

Bella smiled and remarked, "Being close to Mimi has certainly expanded your vocabulary."

Lepard smirked. Even in his animal form, their faces were expressive. "Yeah, you should hear her sometimes. Her expressions are quite inventive," he said.

Bella dryly replied, "I did live inside her for a few decades or something like that, so yes, I got my share."

Lepard looked at the snowy forest and said, "I just wish you didn't have to sacrifice your last life for this..."

Bella interrupted, "But I have to. It has been an honor to give my last life to this pack. Otherwise, Sark's invention won't come out until it's too late, and the consequences won't be pleasant. Losing Wulfe, Murdoch, and Dexter is not acceptable, and it would lead Mimi down the wrong path. And remember, it's not your responsibility to explain this to the pack. It will all come out in due time."

Lepard sighed, realizing that life wasn't always enjoyable. As he turned around and walked away, only the snowy forest had been a witness to their last encounter. Lepard turned to see one more time behind him. There was no trace of Snowleopard, as if she had never been there.