39. We Are Champions.

The bright sun shone through the window, causing me to squint as I slowly regained consciousness. I felt groggy and disoriented, my mind still clouded. I tried to shield my eyes from the glaring light by pulling the blanket over my head. I was drugged up to my eyes, and it took time for me to get my mind working. As my thoughts cleared, I suddenly remembered my childbirth and worried about the well-being of my babies. I knew I had to wake up and see them.

Minutes passed, and terrifying scenarios filled my mind. Images of empty cribs and fragile creatures in incubators haunted me. I remember how small those girls had been. Determined to shake off these thoughts, I forced myself to wake up. Opening my eyes, I struggled to adjust to the harsh sunlight. Outside the room, I heard footsteps approaching. The door softly opened, and Damon entered, holding a bundle in his arms.

Relieved, he greeted me, "Oh, good, you're awake. I was just coming to check on you when our firstborn became restless, so I brought him to see his mommy. All our babies are fine, eating, and I've already dressed and washed them."

A sudden longing surged within me as I yearned to see the little bundle in Damon's arms. I fought against my fatigue, shifting my body to a better position. I was squirming into a sitting position. 

"Give him to me," I said eagerly. "I want to..."

Damon smiled and sat beside me, carefully placing our firstborn from this batch into my arms. The baby was beautiful, with dark hair and hands that seemed surprisingly large compared to what I remembered from our girls. His eyes, like his father's, were a striking ice blue. He was looking at me. 

"He looks like you," I told Damon, my heart filled with joy. "Look at him, your brows, your eyes, your mouth."

Damon smirked, teasingly responding, "But he has your disposition. He's a chill guy, just like you. Though when he's angry, he lets you know."

Chuckling, I replied, "I'm not used to reacting like that. I might have a few tantrums here and there, but I'm not a dragon."

Damon smiled, his fingers lightly brushing against the scales on my chest. "Well, you do have a few of these, so maybe you are a dragon, at least you are a dragon in OR. someday I will get those too, and we shall share your little vampire abilities." He playfully remarked.

Sticking my tongue out at him, I turned my attention to our baby.

"Don't mind about Daddy," I whispered to our little one. "He's just being a meanie. He is greedy. Mommy is no dragon unless someone tries to hurt you. Then, I might get angry."

My baby boy cooed, his soft voice filling the room, and he squirmed restlessly in my arms. I could feel his tiny body fidgeting, knowing that he could smell the sweet scent of my milk. My breasts were full, and he was hungry. This one was his father's son, at least when it came to my milk.

I turned to Damon, my husband, and confidently said, "This little one is hungry, so we're about to feed. If you're uncomfortable seeing my breasts, then please give us some space."

Damon moved closer to me, his voice a gentle murmur in my ear. "No worries, he won't drink all of your milk. But I will after he's had his fill. So you can give me a feed too. Oh, baby, I am sooo hungry.."

My husband loved breastmilk and whenever it was available, he eagerly joined in. We had excellent formulas as well, but it wasn't healthy for me to produce too much milk. As the alpha female, it was my purpose to provide milk for every baby in our pack, but it had led me to undergo anesthesia and feeding procedures in the past. Nowadays, it was regulated to ensure I produced just the right amount, and Damon would taste it to prevent any strain on my body. He would make sure that I did not put too much of my resources, minerals, and vitamins in my milk as I exaggerated in anything that I did.

Despite his seductive words, I couldn't help but feel a sense of security with Damon by my side. He was my mate, husband, my protector, and he never failed in his duties. I undressed, letting my baby and husband have their milk meal simultaneously. At that moment, we were a complete family, and it felt perfect.

Damon was faster with his drinking, eagerly emptying my milk, while our son took his time suckling at his own pace. Eventually, Damon gently took our son from my arms, burped him, and placed him in bed for a minute, ensuring his comfort. After the baby had fallen asleep, Damon focused on completely emptying my breasts to avoid any complications or infections.

He drank carefully every drop of my milk and bit into my breasts, draining a dental substance to keep my milk production under control. Breastfeeding could make it faster and he was not giving opportunity for my body to do that. He was enjoying himself quite a lot, draining my milk and making my body react in a certain way, too.

After he had done with his nursing, Damon spoke, breaking the silence. "Now, baby, it's time for you to shower while I put our little one to sleep. After that, you'll have a meal, and then you'll get to meet the rest of our gang. You've only slept for about 30 hours, and there are some deficiencies in your blood, but I wanted to have this time with you before Mariella gives birth."

His words surprised me. In the past, he would have had no qualms about keeping me sedated for a few days to address my blood issues. But now, he had changed. This wasn't an impulsive decision; he had planned everything meticulously, including our journey of having babies together. 

I said to him, my voice tinged with nostalgia, "You have changed, truly. The old you wouldn't have hesitated to keep me under anesthesia being fed while fixing me, even if it meant missing out on time with me before Mariella gave birth."

He smiled, a sense of pride radiating from him, and replied, "You see, old dogs can learn new tricks. So never think, my love, that you can't change too."

Happiness filled my heart, but I knew I had to protect him, keep him sheltered from the truth of our three lost ones. He was too precious to me at this moment. I could not hurt him that much. I needed to be strong here, for both of us. 

Standing up, he cradled our son gently in his arms and urged me, "Now it's your turn to shower, my love. Don't make it too cool. I'll keep my radar on and teleport to adjust the water temperature if needed."

I stretched myself, watching him walk away while murmuring sweet words to our son. Making my way to the shower, I relished the warmth and joy of this moment in life, adjusting the water to be warm.

But then he spoke in my mind, "Baby, warmer, or else..."

Fine. I turned the dial, scalding hot water cascading over me, almost boiling myself. I washed my hair multiple times, taking my time, before wrapping myself in a thick, oversized robe and grabbing a large towel to dry my hair. The hem of the robe reached to the floor, but I knew how to walk without tripping on it.

I thought nothing because this had been one room I had made for myself and I had bought several bathrobes for myself. I was in a lazy mood so this oversized would dry me up well and fast while I would dry my hair. I was so used to it that when I made room for myself, I would be only living there. I was not thinking about this new Salvatore at all.

 I had no rush, knowing I could savor this moment. Stepping out of the bathroom, I found my husband waiting in the room.

He had chosen my clothes for me, his gaze lingering on me as he sighed and said, "I see I need to put my name on my clothes so you can differentiate between mine and yours, and avoid wearing my bathrobe."

Frowning, I retorted, "This is mine. I bought it myself."

I was flabbergasted, really I was. My room, my stuff. 

Damon responded, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection, "It's time for me to teach you about clothes and being married once again, my love. I appreciate it when you buy me clothes and bathrobes, I truly do. But I wear them myself, and while I enjoy your scent, you have your robes. So, I'll put my name on my bathrobes, ensuring you choose correctly when selecting yours. This is our room, not just yours. It is time for you to learn truly to be a wife, to live with me."

I was taken aback, and at a loss for words, feeling utterly astonished. He appeared serious and composed at that moment. This revelation was something completely new to me, and even the simple act of sharing clothes and bathrobes, though mundane, had a comforting aspect to it. It made me feel somewhat normal, like everyone else. I never really lived with him. I mean, we had had our rooms, but not this kind of sharing, not in decades.

I found myself sitting on the dresser, grabbing a towel to dry my hair. Unexpectedly, he came up behind me, gently taking the towel and massaging my hair, soothingly rubbing and drying it. Then he proceeded to brush and blow-dry my hair, styling it into an updo.

After finishing, he handed me my clothes for the day and said, "Alright, get dressed. I'll go prepare some food for you."

As soon as I started to open my robe, or rather, his robe, he hurriedly walked away. he had still problems with my body. I dressed myself in a loose-hemmed shirt and a tight, hot pink satin skirt, while the skirt itself was a cool ice blue, resembling his eyes.

I made my way to the kitchen, Whole pack was already eating there, where a full meal awaited me. The clinking of utensils filled the air, and the enticing aromas filled the kitchen, making my mouth water and reminding me of just how hungry I was. Mariella glanced at me, observing my flat belly while hers remained round, pregnant, and heavy. She looked tired but content, and Damon graciously gave her more food to satisfy her cravings. It was liquid, and she sipped it through the thick straw.

A plate was placed in front of me, and I eagerly indulged, relishing the opportunity to actually chew my food instead of resorting to drinking everything. I devoured everything that was given to me, which was quite substantial, but it was all so delectable.

After the satisfying meal, Damon turned to me and said, "Alright, let's go meet our seven wonders of the world."

I could hear a few of the members of our pack snickering at my loving expression. I was more than ready, following him into our nursery. It truly felt like ours, as we had prepared it together.

As I walked from one crib to another, I spoke softly, pointing out to Damon the resemblance of his features in our babies, and he reciprocated by noting how much he saw of me in them. He enveloped me in his arms as we gazed at our precious little ones, and I could feel his love radiating towards me. He was genuinely happy, and his love for me was immeasurable.

I walked over to my cozy rocking chair, the worn wooden frame creaking as I settled into its embrace. It was just perfect and since it could seat several; I envisioned myself feeding my babies in here.

Damon joined me, his presence comforting. He leaned in, his voice filled with excitement. "We need to give names to them. Do you have any ideas?"

I paused, the room filled with a momentary silence. Finally, I replied, "Well, for the boys, how about heroic names like Apollo, Hercules, and Ares? And for the girls, Josephine, Jessica, Mira, and Tess."

A smile danced across Damon's face as he suggested, "You're quite good at this. What about Jake, Rob, and Apollo for the boys?"

I was struggling to suppress my emotions. His suggestion had brought them almost to the surface. Names of my two dearest friends, my soulmates but not lovers, more or less. 

I nodded and said, "Those will be their names. Good thinking."

He pulled me into a warm embrace, whispering, "The children's powers will need to be bound, to prevent them from using vampire abilities. I'll show you how to do it, so you can do it yourself if I'm unavailable. It's simple, just mix five drops of their blood into the binder once their powers have manifested. It won't hurt them and will safeguard them from controlling their surroundings with compulsion or other mental powers."

I nodded, grateful for this perfect solution. We sat together; the babies sleeping soundly, filling the room with peacefulness.

Damon sighed, breaking the tranquility. "I'll be here when they wake up, but I need to check on the ladies. Enjoy your time with them. I'll update their files with their chosen names."

I nodded again, relishing the joy of being a mother. But deep down, I knew this happiness wouldn't last. Mariella would give birth soon, and life had taught me to embrace every fleeting moment of bliss. As the scent of pheromones lingered in the air, I wondered if the other mothers would bond over our shared experiences, exchanging notes on our babies' growth and development.

The thought struck me, and I felt an overwhelming desire to document everything, to compare their growth to that of human babies. Determined, I rose from the chair and made my way to the library, the scent of aged books filling my nostrils.

I immersed myself in baby care books and guides on their development, eager to arm myself with knowledge. I knew I wanted to write everything down, to capture each precious detail. It would be a delightful journey, one I would embark on with each new arrival. 

After an hour, I returned to the nursery, carrying a stack of books and notebooks, along with a few other items like measuring tape, penlight, and scales. The room was filled with the gentle hum of anticipation. I could already imagine the sight of measuring their weight and length, and the circumference of their tiny heads, just like we do with human babies.

It intrigued me to discover if they possessed the same reflexes as newborns and how quickly those reflexes would go away or new ones come. The little scientist within me was bursting with excitement, but I wanted to keep this experience to myself, at least for now. It felt like a personal journey I needed to embark on alone.

As the babies started to stir, I cradled them in my arms, marveling at their delicate features. Simultaneously, I meticulously recorded measurements and observations for each one. Since I hadn't been informed of their individual names yet, they were merely assigned numbers in my notes.

After an hour of focused work, I found myself sinking into a rocking chair, holding my babies close, filled with a deep sense of contentment. They weren't hungry yet, and I cherished these peaceful moments with them. Suddenly, Mariella and Damon entered the room.

Mariella approached the little ones and asked, "May I pick them up?"

I nodded and replied, "Of course, they do have names, but I haven't figured out who is who yet."

Damon grinned and reassured me, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it. I'll put little tags on their cribs and clothes so each of them has their own identity."

Mariella's face lit up, and she added, "That's a wonderful idea, Damon. I want the same for my babies too, their own clothes."

It was heartwarming to see Mariella embracing motherhood with such joy. Even though our pack had experienced this countless times before, the magic of new life never lost its charm. This time would be yet another cherished memory for our pack.