29. Everytime.

I stood inside a cold, steel cage, the metallic tang of blood and the stench of guts filling my nostrils. My clenched fist bore the remnants of my recent victory, as I dangled the severed head of the werewolf I had vanquished. Its weight felt surprisingly light in my grasp. This creature, somewhere between human and wolf, lay lifeless a few feet away. I didn't know its name, but I called it dead.

The silence of the crowd was deafening, broken only by the faint shuffling of people in the background. Three men approached the cage, wielding taser sticks. In a fit of rage, I hurled the decapitated head at one of them. But my defiance was short-lived as one man fired a taser at me. The spikes dug into my back, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through my body, causing me to collapse to my knees.

Two other men mercilessly jabbed their taser sticks into me, each strike sending waves of excruciating pain through my battered frame. Eventually, darkness enveloped me, offering a brief respite from the torment.

When I regained consciousness, I was roughly dragged, my armpits aching from the force. The effects of the drug lingered in my mind, but fueled by rage, I fought against its grip. The ship had come to a halt, presenting an opportunity for escape. Though they sedated me for the transfer, I resisted the drug's pull, refusing to truly succumb to sleep. I was merely sedated.

Suddenly, I was tossed into the back of a van, confined within another cage. The vehicle set off, its destination unknown to me. Eventually, it came to a halt, and the back door swung open, granting me freedom from the cage. The men hauled me out of the van, unceremoniously dumping me into a ditch. The sound of the car fading into the distance signaled their departure.

Slowly, I gathered myself, clawing my way out of the ditch and onto my feet. Clad in the same clothes I had been captured in - a black satin shirt and a red leather skirt - I realized how gaunt I had become. Desperate to keep my skirt in place, I tore a strip from the hem of my shirt to fashion a makeshift belt. Completing my unlikely ensemble were fluffy slippers. My once long hair had been shorn, now blonde and cropped short.

I pressed on, walking with purpose, my ears attuned to the murmurs and conversations around me. It seemed I was in Spain, a curious turn of events. Since they had abandoned me in this country, I knew exactly where to go. I purchased a magnificent villa by the beach in Fuengirola, with a sprawling plot of land and a view of the sea. I had briefly stayed there during past European vacations. Although I knew I would need help, the thought of the pack hadn't crossed my mind. Somehow, deep down, I sensed the pack was no more.

It took me one day to get to Fuengirola. I took a local bus that was close enough and then just walked. I didn't even think about the men. I was in survival mode, trying to survive. My rage, the whole six weeks, every injury I had, all the drugs and implants, the breakdown products had put me in a very unstable state.

Now, I couldn't stand anything yet. No meds, no attack. I can recognize people but can't tolerate any attempt to attack me. Then I feel threatened, and I attack. I don't hesitate at all. In this mode, it would take a while before I could get my rage down, calm myself down, and see where I was going. I hadn't been in this condition for years. And I knew what a beast I was. I was worse, much worse than last time, my darkness, my rage, my killer instinct were grown over the years and this was result.

I arrived in Fuengirola, went inside, and sighed. 2-3 weeks, and then I could take treatments, not before. Then I'd see what the men were like. The implants had broken down inside me, and more had always been fitted. Now I was so medicated, so enraged, now I needed time. That's why I would go to the Fuengirola; the rest of the pack had never been there. They know the place, but they've never been there. I was only here with Mimosa and Mirella.

Damon's frustration boiled over as he switched on the implant search app, his expletives echoing through the room. The app flashed a dreaded message - the implant was offline, a clear sign it had been obliterated. The most reliable way to locate Mimi had been snatched away.

It had been a torturous two days since Mimi disembarked from the ship, leaving Damon clueless about her whereabouts. Magnum had equipped him with a tool to swiftly bring her back, but how could they rescue her when her location remained a haunting mystery?

Adam joined in the chorus of curses, his voice laced with desperation. Samuel's anxiety reached a fever pitch, his frantic movements betraying his deep concern. Damon's anger surged, threatening to push him over the edge, his only solace being the possibility of seeking help from Wulfe if finding Mimi proved impossible.

I sat in a worn-out chair in Fuengirola, the dim evening casting a gloomy atmosphere. The distant sound of voices caught my attention, growing louder as footsteps approached. Suddenly, Jake and Rob entered the room, their presence felt.

As Jake neared, I emitted a low growl, warning him to stay back. "Don't come any closer," I cautioned, my voice filled with a dangerous undertone.

Jake took a few tentative steps forward, his voice soothing and calm. "Mimi, I'm not afraid of you. I can see you're in turmoil. Just tell me what you need, and we'll assist you with anything."

A moment of silence hung in the air before I responded, my voice still edged with caution. "For now, I just need peace of mind. I'll let you know when that changes."

Jake inched closer, able to see me more clearly now.

He asked about the pack, inquiring about their well-being. Uncertain, I replied, "I simply don't know. Are they trapped in the illusion of their perfect lives, consumed by their roles as parents?"

Jake nodded, then turned to Rob, and they left the room. I barely registered their departure.

Unbeknownst to me, Jake contacted Damon, informing him of my location in Fuengirola. Along with his message, he included a brief video snippet captured by a hidden camera on his shirt.

Damon cautioned Jake, "Do you realize the danger you put yourself in? You must be cautious around that creature."

Jake acknowledged the risk, emphasizing that I recognized him and that sudden movements should be avoided. Damon assured Jake that the pack would arrive in 12 hours, ready to fly to my aid. Meanwhile, Samuel and Damon gathered supplies, unsure of what awaited them at the medbay. Bran expressed curiosity about the place, but both Samuel and Charles firmly stated that it was my sanctuary, not a location for indulging in pleasure. 

Damon's eyes widened in amazement as he stood fixated on the stunning white mansion that loomed nearby. The house was a masterpiece of architectural design, with its grandiose glass windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The windows not only allowed the natural light to pour in, but also offered a breathtaking view of the vast ocean.

The house was in the heart of Fuengirola, one of the most sought-after tourist destinations in Spain. Despite the bustling area, the property boasted enviable privacy, thanks to its massive seaside plot that was nothing short of a marvel. Standing outside the grand entrance were Jake and Rob, their faces filled with awe and admiration for the magnificent house before them.

Jake said, "She's still sitting. I'm not sure if she has a pulse or is breathing. She prefers to be in the dark."

Damon nodded. He said, "I'll go in first and let you know when it's safe to come in." Adam, Samuel, and Bran nodded. Jake went in first.

 I went to the worn-out couch and sank into it, curling my legs up tightly. The weight of despair settled upon me. It was over. It was fucking over. Seeking distraction, I reached for a can of Coke, its cold metal chilling my fingertips. I raised it to my lips, not truly thirsty, but needing something to hold on to, a semblance of certainty amidst the chaos.

A couple of days had passed since I have gotten free. Jake and Rob had come by twice, their concern clear as I nearly lunged at them when Jake pushed too far. I had become more guarded, more wary. As the door creaked open, Jake entered once again. I glared at him, a deep growl rumbling in my throat. My eyes burned crimson, revealing my vampire side.

Damon grabbed Jake's sleeve, forcefully pulling him away, cautioning him, "Whoa, whoa, don't take another step. Mimi sees you as a threat, a means to cleanse her vampire half. Turn around and walk away calmly, no sudden movements."

Jake nodded, acknowledging the warning.

He spoke up, defending me, "I'm not afraid of Mimi; she's just defending herself."

Damon's voice dropped low, his authority clear, "I'm a powerful telepath, Mimi's sire. I can sense her intentions. Now, obey."

Reluctantly, Jake walked away, his movements deliberate and controlled. As the front door closed, Damon took a deep breath, composed himself, and prepared to confront the turmoil within me, the beast of my epiphany. This was going to be a challenge. Mimi was in a dark place, and Damon offered what support he could, searching for a way to get close to her.

Damon entered the room, his presence unsettling. How the fuck did he know where I was? Jake must have spilled everything. Damon's blood was not what I desired, and somehow, I knew I had come dangerously close to drinking from Jake perhaps even causing harm. Damon's gaze met mine, but he remained silent for now. Calmly, he approached and settled into a nearby chair.

His voice was soothing, casual even, as he said, "'That won't quench your thirst, baby. Your heart no longer beats. But wet your mouth."

I placed the can on the table, my voice rough and snarling, laced with danger. "Give it a couple of weeks and then you can see if there's anything to take care of." 

My rage burned fiercely, and Damon's proximity felt like a provocation. I was ready to attack if he made a wrong move.

Damon leaned back in his plush chair, the leather creaking softly beneath him, then he slowly peeled off his cotton shirt, revealing his bare, bronzed chest.

His voice, deep and soothing, caressed my ears as he spoke. "Mimi, baby, come here. Look, no meds. I'm taking my shirt off. Just come here for a minute so I can hold you in my arms. You wouldn't believe how worried I've been. I've been feeling your pain for two weeks now—all your anguish. Just give me one more time to make sure I can feel you in my arms. Come on, I just want to hold my wife, then I'll go away. Right now, you feel insecure. That's why you're so defensive. Let me give you just a little relief. Come, listen to my heartbeat and smell me, that's all."

I pondered his words for a fleeting moment, reluctantly agreeing. If it meant finding solace and respite, I would do whatever it takes. Rising from my seat, I walked towards Damon, his embrace awaiting me. As he lifted me, his arms enveloped me tightly, providing a sense of security.

I reciprocated, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. With every stroke of his hand against my back and hair, a comforting warmth spread through me. Resting my head against his chest, I focused on the silence surrounding us, the absence of any sound but the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in my ears. The scent of passion fruit mingled with his natural musk, creating a heady aroma that filled my senses. In that moment, I felt a profound stillness, a sanctuary within his arms. And then, nothingness enveloped us, a tranquil pause in time.

Damon let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of Mimi's frail body going limp in his arms. As he took a deep breath, he could feel the tension slowly dissipating from his muscles. This had been an incredibly intense situation. Carefully, Damon lifted Mimi out of his arms, her head lolling limply. Despite the thin fabric of her T-shirt and pants, he could still sense the coolness and bony structure of her body pressed against him.

Standing up, Damon cradled Mimi once again, silently communicating to the pack through telepathy, "Okay, you can come."

His gaze shifted to his hand, where a simple gold ring adorned his finger, housing a black stone. Magnum had designed the ring specifically for this purpose, and it had proven to be effective. With its powerful laser, it had severed Mimi's spinal cord, rendering her unable to perceive anything. All he had to do was place his finger in the right spot on the back of her neck and press the ring. It was a powerful, yet gentle and swift, mechanism.

Samuel and Adam entered the room, their footsteps echoing throughout the house as they surveyed their surroundings. Damon carried Mimi over to the couch, preparing to administer a potent cocktail of drugs that would subdue her rage. He had kept it reserved for this moment. Slipping on his shirt, he injected the drug into Mimi's brain through the nape of her neck. He could feel her anger reverberating in his mind, emanating strongly. 

As the men continued their movements around the house, Damon sat beside Mimi, gently stroking her. He was determined to help ease her rage. He concentrated, sensing the desire to consume it, but not just yet. Samuel had ensured that the medbay was well-equipped, and once the anti-hibernation medicine was administered to Mimi's brain, they transferred her there. Because her spinal cord was healing rapidly, there was a chance she might awaken and become agitated, so they secured her with spiked restraints.

Damon inspected the operating theater, while Adam and Samuel carefully undressed Mimi and closely monitored her in the medbay. Damon set up the operating room, knowing that Mimi would need to undergo surgery first. Fortunately, Adam, who was almost a fully fledged doctor, could assist with the procedure.

Once everything was ready, it was time for action. They didn't scan Mimi for anything as she was full of an indistinct mass, so everything would go away. First, Damon was taken to the operating theatre, and Adam and Samuel took all his organs, except the reproductive organs, and put them in Damon's fresh blood to preserve them. Then, when Damon woke up, all three were ready to operate on Mimi. 

Mimi was taken to the operating room, where everything inside her was emptied. It took a while for the multiplication enzyme to kick in, and there was a lot of mass. Damon cut the collectors in his fangs because the smell of Mimi's blood made his teeth react hard. Then they transplanted Damon's organs into Mimi. Maybe they wouldn't last. Mimi weighed well under 30 kilos again.

Damon cursed to himself. He cursed because Mimi did not enjoy life at all. She just hadn't had a fantastic time. They also poured Damon's bump and feeding fluid into Mimi's stomach cavity. They had caught some naughty supernatural creatures, and when they were given Mimi's feeding hormone, they produced feeding fluid. Then, they were fitted with a cannula in the collection bag, and the fluid was collected as long as the donor was alive.

Damon drained Mimi's glands, and then they were burned off again; now they had more secretions to get the feeders. Colin had come up with this when he was involved with Mimi's blood farms and had just mentioned it to Samuel, and together, they had done this by Adam's decision. Damon had never been to Mimi's blood farm, and it seemed like an interesting place to visit.

 Now, the next thing would be to calm down the raging emotions and then administer the medications. Once Damon gained control over the remaining anger, Mimi would likely sleep deeply and peacefully. Samuel was already carefully administering several different bags of bonding substances, their contents dripping steadily.

Damon always handed him all the bags when his teeth were in use. His teeth, however, were not currently engaged in their velvety actions. Mimi was not placed in an incubator, because there was none here, which meant she was feeling the freezing cold. To counter this, Damon and Adam had bundled her up warmly for sleep. The electric blankets emitted a comforting warmth, and Mimi was wrapped up like a sleeping bag, her head peeking out.

Damon sat on the bed, his eyes closed, savoring the moment. He was feasting on Mimi's rage. Samuel found this interesting. The sensation of rage was tantalizing, and he indulged in it for so long that it eventually lulled him to sleep. Its consumption made him feel stronger, empowering him to push Damien even further into the depths of whatever this experience was.

It also heightened his telepathy, fortifying it against external influences. Upon awakening, he continued to feed on the rage, repeating the cycle. Samuel skillfully adjusted the drips, ensuring they didn't interfere with Damon's enjoyment, allowing him to revel in his feast.

Gradually, the rage dripped into the well. Once Damon had purged, all the excessive burning spilled out, rage flooding Mimi's mind. To contain Mimi's rage, Damon constructed a deeper and sturdier well. The rage settled in, remaining controlled. There was an immense amount of it, potent and forceful, but now it was harnessed.

Mimi was sound asleep, not under the influence of any anesthesia or sedatives. Her slumber was sustained by the drugs and implants that had been administered over the course of six weeks. Mimi's body temperature had improved slightly, so they didn't wrap her up too tightly, allowing for some comfort.

 Damon, Adam, Samuel, and Bran went off to chase the Wulfe. They left Mimi to sleep. Mimi had a feeding fluid belly full; her organs were fine, and the metal binders were dripping. Most of the metals were already bound. Time would tell them what condition Mimi would be in, but they wanted revenge now. Each man was ready to go, and Jake and Rob were looking for Wulfe. But there were several leads, so everyone picked one to follow. 

Bran gave up first. He could only chase for two weeks. So many alphas needed his help that he stopped chasing and concentrated on being Marrok. Samuel quit next. There were enough medical crises across America that forced him to switch to chasing after his target for five weeks.

Adam quit because the trail disappeared. He couldn't keep chasing ghosts. He'd been chasing for almost nine weeks, but didn't know what the other men were doing. He went to Fuengirola only to find that Mimi had woken up at some point and left, so Adam went to Chicago to set up his business.