28. Remember The Time.

I stepped out of the car, clutching my bag.

Damon looked at me and said in a cold, cruel voice, "Come on, hand over the keys, or else things will get unpleasant."

I noticed he had the remote control for my collar, a constant reminder of his control over me. I opened my bag and rummaged through it, but did not take the key to my office. I didn't want Damon to know that. Among the keys, there was an old faded keychain, a trinket that had been with me since my Chicago home days, carrying memories of centuries past. I debated taking it off, but decided against it, wanting to hold on to the sentimental piece.

Damon glanced at the keychain, recognizing its significance, and snatched the keys from my hand. He removed the key trinket and pocketed it, looking at me with a smirk.

"Someday, my dear, we'll explore these little trinkets of yours. Remember, you're an unwilling siphon and loader, a vessel for power. These keys hold a lot of energy, which is why you keep them. But now, I'll take that energy and use it to empower myself. Thanks for the keychain, by the way. It's mine now, not yours."

I knew he was right, that I had loaded those keys with memories and emotions, making it hard to let go. But he had just taken something from me, something seemingly insignificant but still valuable. He opened the door, his pheromones filling the air, and we walked inside. Soon, the sounds of voices echoed from upstairs as the rest of the pack descended from the portal room. Mariella wrapped herself around Damon, kissing him passionately. I didn't feel the same neediness.

I made my way to the kitchen as the pack dispersed to explore the rooms. The distant chatter slowly faded away. It felt good to be home, even if the kitchen was connected to so many memories. I had my curtains, crocheted but by machine, and my rugs, and I opened the fridge to find an abundance of food. I warmed up my meal, unsure which table we had in this house. Were there warming spells in place? There had been several tables over the years, each holding its memories, both good and bad.

I remembered how Damon had stalked me in this house, and how I had once envisioned it as our sex nest. But instead, it had become my workplace, my own personal sanctuary, where I lived and worked mostly alone. It was strange to think about how different my life had been under his spell. Without Damon, would I have ended up disconnected from everyone? A mere flea? It was an intriguing what-if scenario. At least it was an experience I would never forget, as if I could forget anything. 

After a satisfying meal, I strolled along the corridor. As I approached, I noticed an open door, and within, the unmistakable sounds of passion resonated from various rooms. The cacophony didn't bother me; let them sanctify their desires. My mind was elsewhere, not consumed by lustful thoughts, but simply occupied with my own musings.

I didn't give much thought as I made my way to my office, fumbling for my keys. With a click, I opened the heavy, soundproof door, equipped with a buzzer system to grant access if necessary. Carrying my bag, I walked up to my desk. It had been a while since I last occupied this space, but as I settled into the worn chair, feeling it creak beneath me, a sense of familiarity washed over me. This room was grand, adorned with a massive fireplace, soft rugs, and plush couches, along with a few comfortable armchairs.

Memories flooded my mind—Jake plopping down on one of the chairs, attempting to light the fireplace, resulting in a room filled with smoke due to a partially blocked chimney. I had been working again a long time when he had come to see me, make sure that I had some other things in my life but just work. I remember thinking just how ruggedly good-looking he had been, all sprawled on that sofa but we never, not since our initial time, and maybe, just maybe, I should have done it, but the past is past. No need to play what-ifs no more, as I am already reeling them in my mind.

Some memories were pleasant, others not so much. But I focused on the task at hand. I retrieved my laptop, connected it, and began sifting through my clinic emails. Colin was once again occupied with Samuel, dealing with some infection epidemic. The clinic was bustling with activity. Even Will and the other doctors were putting in the legwork. I had consultations lined up, and a plethora of cases to attend to. It was still under my name. I had work to be done Freya and others' spells had not certainly helped things along. But I had the time to handle it.

Immersed in my work, I started by updating my printers and loading them with paper. Then, I proceeded to print out the files for my first patient, along with their test results, organizing them neatly in folders. I printed out every case, creating folders and storing them on my desk. At some point, I ventured into the kitchen to grab some more food. The chaos of mating was still ongoing, and I couldn't help but wonder if Wulfe and Magnum were partaking in the frenzy. I purposely avoided the main bedroom, not wanting to witness if Mariella and Damon had sought solace there. I had a few bedrooms that I had used in the past, but they were far from tidy–clothes strewn about, unmade beds, and the like. But it had become my way of life. 

I returned to my office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting a warm hue on the worn wooden furniture. I reached for the first folder, its faded label hinting at the secrets it held within. As I opened it, the crisp sound of paper rustling filled the air, mixing with the faint hum of the air conditioning.

I immersed myself in the words, my eyes scanning the details of the case I had been tasked with. The weight of responsibility settled upon me, urging me to find the truth buried within the pages. I continued reading, absorbing the information that had been given to me, allowing it to shape my thoughts and guide my next move.

If the puzzle pieces aligned and the case was solved, relief washed over me. I had cases more than enough, but there were quite many where I had to ask for more tests, and more imagining. Ready cases went to be filed just in case. I knew exactly where to place the folder, carefully slotting it into its designated spot in the bookcase. The shelves, once empty, now held a collection of done cases, a testament to my dedication. We kept these patient files still even though it might be one off consultation. One can never know.

Lost in my work, time seemed to slip away unnoticed. My hyper-focus was setting in once again. It was good to immerse myself in these, with no time to dwell on my problems. I would occasionally venture to the kitchen for sustenance, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of ink on paper. The passing hours held no significance, my focus consumed by the intricacies of the cases at hand, oblivious to the activities of others around me.

Engrossed in reading yet another case, I was startled by the sudden ringing of my buzzer. Without a second thought, I pressed the button, and the door swung open, revealing Wulfe standing before me.

He entered the room, his eyes scanning the space, and commented, "Finally, I found you. You've been cooped up here for two weeks. Nice office, by the way."

Wulfe made himself comfortable on the couch, sinking into its worn cushions. From there, he observed me intently, his gaze filled with curiosity.

He questioned, "What are you doing? Work?"

I let out a grunt in response, my weariness clear. "Clinic consultations. Colin is busy with an infection, and Samuel is in Korea. So, I have to take care of these."

"Why aren't you..." Wulfe began, but I interrupted.

"Fucking? Not in the mood," I replied curtly. "If someone were to seduce me, I wouldn't deny them. But I can sense when no one needs or wants me, just as I can sense pheromones."

My voice trailed off, leaving an unspoken weight hanging in the air. Wulfe tilted his head, his gaze unwavering.

He urged me, "What? Tell me everything."

I lifted my weary gaze, leaning back in my chair. "Well, I'm not sure if it was my intention or not, but I released a certain pheromone on Damon. It's the one that signals a female's need for companionship, her loneliness. In the past, I used it to drive him towards Mariella. It still worked, but I didn't mean for him to go away completely. He was still way too pissed off with me. I just wanted to feel protected, but now I've put that need aside. It's clear enough for me. I need to do this alone. Be strong."

Wulfe huffed, frustration clear in his voice. "And what satanic tirade has he kept over the weeks about you, claiming how much he needs you? That guy is an idiot. You have no idea what I had to listen to before I got that spell to wipe those hints on. That self-absorbed bastard whined about how you would not want him, not when he raped you, more or less. It was all an act. I can see it now, or something. "

I responded wearily, "It's fine. He is weathervane, welcome to pack. This is nothing new. I've grown accustomed to it. It's the same as always. I just need to be strong and sort things out myself. He just sees me as stronger than I want to be or am. I am not so strong always, I just fake it."

Wulfe's voice softened as he comforted me, "Unicorn, I am here. You are not alone. Talk to me, it helps. Come on, stop working. Come sit next to me and talk."

I carefully stacked my files, seeking a brief respite. As I walked over to sit in a nearby chair, I tucked my legs under me.

However, Wulfe insisted, "Nope, come here next to me. You don't need to be alone."

Reluctantly, I trudged over to the sofa where he was seated. He pulled me close, wrapping his arm around me, and a comforting scent of old books and burning bush enveloped us. Taking a deep breath, I realized it was one of those comforting scents that put me at ease. Wulfe encouraged me to talk, to start unraveling the knots within me.

I hesitated before opening up, "When everything is stripped away, who am I at my core? A hollowed husk, unable to truly feel anything. That spell was irritating, but in retrospect, it was terrifying. I didn't want to know myself this well. It was easier when I could maintain the illusion that I was better than whatever had haunted me. The loneliness, the emptiness, the raw power within me, followed by helplessness. I'm a mess, and it will take time to find my footing again. And then there's what Damon made me do, adding even more complications. But it also revealed just how arrogant I am, how much I overestimate myself."

Wulfe reassured me, "That spell was corrupted from the start. It twisted your emotions and made you feel all wrong. You are not a hollowed out husk. They wanted to break you, to make you a creature devoid of love. That's why your brain conjured those feelings. But you are a creature of love. It's not easy for someone to sell you the complete opposite. It's confusing, but it's not who you truly are. At your core, you are good. There's still that fire within you, the need to save and help others. You feel, and now even more deeply than before, as you've learned to truly feel."

I let out a sigh, knowing that shaking off those feelings wouldn't be easy, especially with my memory. But I resolved to learn to live with it, to use it as a guide, and not allow myself to become that person.

I voiced my concerns to Wulfe, "Why am I back in the pack? There's nothing for me here. They're just using my houses, my homes, for their own pleasure. But for me, there's not much left."

Wulfe responded gently, "We have time, my unicorn. Rest here. Relax. Close your eyes and remember that you're next to the strongest telepath around. Let yourself nap without any nightmares. Let me be strong for you."

His voice was filled with warmth and love as he pulled me even closer. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel safe and trusting in his protection. Soon, I didn't have to consciously think about it anymore. I curled up in his arms, pressing my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His heartbeat became my anchor, a source of safety, even more so now than before. 

As Mimi drifted off to sleep in his lap, Wulfe let out a sigh, enveloping her in his arms. She felt delicate, her feverish skin radiating heat like an untamed fire. She was fragile yet resilient, broken, but on the path to healing. In his presence, her loneliness faded away.

Wulfe had been engrossed in his studies of supernatural blood, immersing himself in the scent of the blood room and indulging in the intoxication of angelic blood. Unaware of Mimi's actions, he had lost track of time. But he had no intention of leaving. When she eventually woke up, they would talk, and eat, and then she would rest again.

Wulfe couldn't remember the last time she had slept without being drugged; she desperately needed this. She looked utterly exhausted. Wulfe couldn't help but notice her femininity once again, reminding him that he was not a monk. He could engage in physical intimacy if he desired, but with her, he wasn't sure. Of course, it would be perfect. She was his unicorn, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. However, they had time. There was no need to rush.

Wulfe was not like Salvatore; he could be with her for longer than two years before ever considering bedding her if he even chose to do so. Sex was a natural part of life, but Wulfe, as a vampire, did not possess the same insatiable lust as others. He was not a hybrid, just a vampire, for now at least. He was more like her, not like the rest, but like his unicorn. He was no energy creature, either. And he preferred it that way. It would be the two of them against the world.

Wulfe cherished his life within the pack and, more importantly, being with her. Perhaps someday, he might consider being with Mariella, but for now, at this moment, he knew that this was where he truly belonged. Holding his unicorn, caring for her when no one else did.

Gently, he entered her mind, unraveling the tangled thoughts and banishing what didn't belong, easing her troubles. It was not forbidden, but if Salvatore was too enraged to help her, Wulfe would step in. He didn't need permission or the approval of others. For the first time in a long while, he felt his soul sing. He was right there, where he was meant to be. The house was exquisite, a grand mansion with countless beautiful rooms, but Wulfe yearned for a space for the pack. He had a small plan in mind. Although the creature in his lap might not initially appreciate it, she would eventually come to her senses.