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The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life

My life took yet another turn when my mind was broken into dust. I was mended by a veritable miracle that granted my Damon to get back. Number four was now the whole new version of him. Our life, as perfect as it seems, showed me cruelty when three of my cubs died. Pack had lost something. Destiny took us apart only to get together in the new way of life.

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16. Careless Whisper.

Charles had changed too, but since they had made that blood connection a few times, Charles knew Shadow better again than before. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft, warm glow on the walls. It was almost as if those old feelings from those seven years had been rekindled in Charles and Adam. The faint scent of lavender filled the air, calming and soothing. Shadow's signature move.

Damon hoped they weren't those feelings because life would be cruel to Mimi again. Mariella's moans echoed in the room, creating a lustful atmosphere. She was busy with several salvatores. Mimi was alone. Her presence felt like a gentle breeze in the silence. This could be an opportunity to make his and Mimi's relationship work again.

He went from room to room, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet, investigating where Mimi was. The sound of distant music reached his ears, a soft melody playing in the background. He sensed her from a few rooms away, a comforting warmth enveloping him.

The anticipation grew as he realized these were Mimi's favorite rooms, cleverly set up on the middle floor so not everyone would immediately notice them. But that didn't stop Damon, even better. He found Mimi in an enormous room; the door creaking softly as he pushed it open. There was a massive water gel bed, its surface glistening under the soft lighting, and Mimi was sleeping velveted naked on the bed. The sight of her delicate form, bathed in the warm glow, took his breath away.

He noticed a few things at first. She was hypothermic, the chill in the room seeping into her skin, causing her body to shiver. Charles's velvet had dropped her temperature, and he had not covered her up. The room was too cool and her core temp was 0.8 degrees Celsius too low.

The first thing Damon did was cover her warmly with a thick blanket, which he heated. The soft fabric embraced her, providing comfort and warmth. He kept his radar open, his senses alert, and made sure that she warmed up. The faint sound of her steady breathing filled the room, a gentle rhythm that eased his worries.

She was pregnant. The scent of fresh flowers wafted through the room, mingling with the passionfruit, as Damon decorated the room. He carefully placed lust vines to grow there, their vibrant colors adding a touch of life to the space. Magic passionfruit vines hung from the ceiling, their ethereal beauty captivating. They would live on energy, not needing water or nutrients at all.

The room became alive with their presence, a vibrant tapestry of nature's artistry. He changed the duvet covers on the bed, the fabric smooth and inviting. This would be their room again, a sanctuary for their love to flourish.

Oh, how he would enjoy having Mimi retire here to rest and be by herself, the thought bringing a sense of tranquility. And then he would come here to have some time with her and she could not refuse. The soft hum of the ceiling lights filled the room, casting a gentle glow on their surroundings. He put mirrored tiles on the ceiling above the bed, their reflective surface capturing the passionate moments they would share. The sight of their entangled bodies, reflected in the mirrors, would be a testament to their love and desire. It was so freaking hot to see them fucking. He remembered when he had first time put them, in Atlanta. it felt like lifetime ago. It was, time had gone by.

Next, it was Mimi's turn. She was still naked but warmed up when he went over to her, his touch gentle and healing. The warmth of his hands spread through her body, soothing her scars and erasing every painful memory. The faint scent of healing herbs lingered in the air, comforting and rejuvenating.

He found a cluster of scars on the back of her neck, in the hairline. Execution shots and the memories came out, and the weight of past traumas lifted. So many hitmen had been sent after Mimi, their presence a constant threat. They had executed her, coldly and callously, for that one secret. Project omega. The whole Nick thing had made it slip away from his mind, but now it resurfaced, demanding justice. Somewhere along the line, the government and all those who persecuted Mimi for it would have to answer. How many times she had dug herself out of the grave?

Damon thought in his mind how he would go to them, let his teeth come out fully, let each of them see his vampire side fully, and consider whether they still wanted to attack his wife. Damon could drink human blood without it being cleansing, and the thought of sinking his teeth into some bastard's neck, drinking slowly but relentlessly.

Feeling the fear of his victim, the terror, how they would struggle in his grasp. And then that perfect time when his victim's heartbeat would weaken, when they would realize they were dying, that moment, and then that time when the heartbeat stopped, that beautiful silence.

That was his victory. He had got the soul of his victims, the life force. He had defeated his victims, and all that was left was the carcass, usually destroyed by his subjects, but he himself could teleport the carcasses to the Ethna. Or he could leave on display, a warning. How many bodies it would take them to get the message? He had not even dealt with that Harrison. He could kill other vampires by sucking them dry, or poisoning them with his fangs. 

Mimi moved a little. Damon stroked her. He didn't know what kind of feeling Charles's velvet would make, but he would now watch and let Mimi wake up first.

I woke up. I remembered how Charles had velveted me and I could still feel the velvet, but I had woken myself up. Then someone was stroking me and I felt safe. I sniffed the air, Damon? But wasn't he fucking Mariella? I opened my eyes and looked into icy blue, amused eyes that seemed to bore into my soul once again. I moved my hand over my side and assumed I could feel the scars left by the lashes, but all I felt was my smooth skin, no scars.

Damon said softly, " No scars, and the memories are taken care of. Just let them be and don't dig out your spare parts. How are you feeling? Charles velveted you, but his velvet differs from mine. He did not cover you and his velvet cooled you off, but I have warmed you back up."

I said, " Yeah, no nausea, so I'm fine. I think I'm going to take a shower. I will take a hot shower. I need it. I've been fucking for quite a while and I can smell myself."

Damon grunted, sexily, and said, " Don't be long and we'll see what we do when you're ready... maybe you soon need a new shower or we could consecrate this on our bed too."

I grabbed my robe and pulled it on. I wasn't at all sure if the gentleman had the self-control to see me naked, so I covered myself up. I stood up and, as usual, a severe dizziness which was more than typical of Charles' velvet hit me and I staggered slightly as I walked into the bathroom. My instinct hit me, to cover up my weakness, so I just pressed on.

Fine, I'll be fine. I stripped off the robe and went into the shower. I turned the water to a suitable cool temperature, that would help, get my metabolism going and the velvet would come off quicker, in a few hours. And then at the end, I could take a hot one so I would not be too cold. As my protector was on the premises.

When Mimi got up. Damon smiled. They might end up back in bed, but then again he wanted to do something with Mimi alone, to get to know her in a new way, a completely different way, and Damon realized what he was looking for. He was looking for that connection, that relationship with Mimi that they'd had back in England, that year, and now he wanted it.

Number four was a threat to him. Because he was that guy, whom Mimi had done stuff with and now he wanted to be one too. He wanted to do stuff with her, have some normal everyday life, maybe goof off or just relax. 

He watched as Mimi walked towards the bathroom and almost fell over. The radar reported severe dizziness, and Damon cursed softly, half aloud. The list of profanities was impressive. Charles' velvet made her dizzy. Every time. He read Mimi's mind and there was no way his wife could tell him anything about it when she needed to be well and strong.

Damon got out of bed, naked, and followed Mimi into the bathroom. He went behind Mimi, wrapped his arms around her waist, supported her, and adjusted the water to the right temperature. She was right about freezing herself.

He said to Mimi, "Baby, you're dizzy and badly so, the reason being Charles' velvet, but I'm going to wash you and your hair, make sure you don't fall over, and then I'm going to dry you off, and I'm going to do something with that velvet and we can go do something together then. I want you to show me a project you've been meaning to do but haven't done yet." 

When Damon came up behind me and wrapped himself around me, adjusted the water, and expressed his desire to be with me, to do things with me, I took a moment to think about what we could do then. But I had a few projects we could do, crafts of sorts. I would not say no; I was changing, or trying to change too, and maybe this could be fun too. 

Damon held me, and then he said, " Come on baby, get two hands on that handle and stand still and I'll wash you."

He had created a handle on the wall and I held on to it. He was pressed right against me. He started scrubbing me clean. This was again quite a hard bristled brush, and it felt. He bit all of Charles's marks off, bit his own in their place. He grunted, spreading my legs, and I felt a thick, huge cock sink into my cunt. 

I couldn't help it when Damon growled in my ear, " Spread your legs, little bitch, or I will, and then it will hurt..."

I spread my legs and gasped as the cock sank into my cunt mercilessly, and then he fucked me violently and mercilessly. I came violently. He pressed his forearm against my mouth, making me bite in his arm, not scream out loud, and he came with his thick lust nectar inside me many times. Filling me up many times. The enormous dick in my cunt had no mercy. I had no choice but to stand with my legs spread, his hand around my throat squeezing. 

A raspy, dangerously sexy voice at the base of my ear said, " Remember to breathe, little bitch, just pull that air inside you." I did. He was super dominant and everywhere in my skin stung as he had bitten me. I was truly well-marked. including my neck too. But there were no chakras to be bitten.

Finally, he withdrew. He had filled me up several times. I was almost legless when he carried me to the bed, dried me off, and said, "My bump will chop Charles's velvet off. The dizziness should ease soon. Me, or in fact, I need to get Mariella on the case to teach Charles not to put his will into his velvet. That was one thing that made you dizzy when you were fighting Charles's will. Well, he had put it in so that the velvet would only split in one way, not the other way, but it doesn't work for you or anyone. But you'll feel better soon and we can do something and then we'll eat at some point. You are well filled up for now."

I started to get myself under control and let Damon dry me off and dress me. He sat me down at the table and did my hair at his leisure. He truly enjoyed it when he had time to do his magic in my hair. I could feel him in my mind to study different styles too. 

Then he said, "Come on babe, what are we going to do now, just the two of us?"

I laughed, he was being funny actually, and said, " Fine, let's go to the craft room."

I guided Damon up to the fourth floor, where our private craft room awaited. The room had been transformed into a haven for various crafts I had discovered online. It was filled with the vibrant colors and textures of diamond painting, resin work, plasterwork, papercraft, and even the art of Japanese string making, known as kumihimo. As we entered, the air carried a faint scent of creativity and possibility.

Resin work had been a long-standing project of mine, something I had yearned to try for decades. I had accumulated an abundance of materials, including clips I had saved from YouTube and printed instructions.

With a sense of caution, I handed Damon the resin package and inquired, "Resin work. Please review the instructions and let me know if it's safe for me to proceed."

Damon delved into the packet, and I could almost feel his presence in my mind as he examined the resin bowls and tables.

After a moment, he replied, "Yes, it seems safe. However, we should work together. I can handle the engraving and sanding, as power tools aren't your strong suit. What would you like to do first?"

Excitedly, I presented him with the legs, frames, and molds for a table, explaining, "We always have space for small tables, so I thought it would be fun to make one. It doesn't require much sanding, and it's a delightful project."

I unveiled an assortment of jewels, stones, and even peacock feathers, along with a few other colorful feathers I had collected.

As Damon prepared the resin, I carefully placed the stones and feathers into the mold, envisioning the round table that would emerge approximately 60 cm wide. We had an ample supply of legs, which could be attached once the table was ready and sanded. Damon joined me, skillfully arranging feathers and stones, creating an intricate pattern that promised an aesthetically pleasing result. I marveled at his focus and precision as he poured different colored resins into the mold.

With the first table in progress, Damon ventured off to work on his molds, and I gladly took on new tasks. There was no shortage of things to do, and I reveled in the joy of working together with Damon, our shared enthusiasm filling the room with a palpable energy.

I fluttered around like a delicate butterfly, my mind flitting from one idea to another. I pondered my next move, contemplating how to incorporate him into my plans. Perhaps a decorative piece adorned with twinkling lights or something equally captivating. But first, I needed to experiment, to try something out.

With determination, I handed the next package to Damon for inspection. Inside was a peculiar molding compound, initially liquid but quickly solidifying. Once set, it served as a mold for pouring in plaster and creating intricate designs. A type of molding silicone, if you will.

Damon grumbled as he examined the contents, asking, "What do you plan to do with this?"

A mysterious smile played on my lips as I finished working with the silicone. Then, in an instant, I teleported to another room. From a top shelf, I retrieved a box and teleported back, seizing the opportune moment when it was just the two of us, without Mariella's presence.

Handing the box to Damon, I whispered, "I hope you'll like them. They're for you."

Inside lay a sweater I had meticulously knitted for him, along with wool socks and a ring I had crafted with my own hands. I had done that ring much earlier, but not giving it to him. These items were the culmination of a few years of knitting, a subconscious urge pushing me to create them, even after Damon had left and ended our relationship. Well before my mind disintegration.

Opening the box, Damon carefully examined the jewelry box and retrieved the ring. It boasted a thick gold band, adorned with an obsidian stone, surrounded by delicate pink diamonds. Engraved on the obsidian were Damon's initials, while the inside of the ring bore the words, "Always and forever, yours, baby." I saw him looking at the past, seeing how I had done it before that seven years.

Peering through the ring, Damon inquired, "Why didn't you give this to me on our wedding day?"

With a hint of hesitation, I replied, "I wasn't certain if you would appreciate it, and Mariella's jealousy might have caused her distress."

Damon grunted, sliding the ring onto his finger, which fit perfectly. He performed a magic trick, causing the ring to be absorbed into his skin, leaving behind a tattooed symbol of our love.

Next, he picked up the sweater, taking in its scent before slipping it on. It suited him well, and with gratitude, Damon expressed, "I couldn't bring myself to wear this yet, but it's truly beautiful. Thank you, baby, truly."

I smiled, the corners of my mouth curling up. I uttered, "I'm glad you like it."

The room was filled with a warm glow from the soft lighting, creating a cozy atmosphere.

"Can you come in here for fifteen minutes and be part of my artwork?" I asked, my voice filled with anticipation.

His smile widened, his teeth gleaming, as he replied, "Yes, yes, I'll come. What are we going to do?"

Excitement filled the air as I exclaimed, "Get your rings out, every one of them!" I carefully took out my rings as they had been hidden with my willpower too, feeling the cool metal against my fingertips. Taking Damon's hand in mine, we aligned our ring hands together. With a sense of unity, we dipped our hands into the smooth silicone, feeling it envelop our skin. Time seemed to slow as we waited for it to set, the room filled with a hushed silence.

After fifteen minutes, I gently released my hand from Damon's, a sense of anticipation building within me.

"Now you can continue," I instructed, my voice filled with encouragement.

Damon eagerly grabbed hold of the mold, his hands carefully maneuvering it as he poured the resin on top. The liquid glistened, reflecting the soft light, as it settled into the mold. He took little twinkling lights I had reserved for myself too, to his artwork.

Feeling inspired, I created a cup out of my palms using the remaining mold silicone. I carefully shaped it, feeling the malleable material conform to the curves of my hands. I took carefully my hands out of the silicone. Once satisfied, I turned my attention to the shelves of plaster powder in the other room.

Damon, concerned for my well-being, read through the packet and cautioned, "Fine, let me make you a stock. This is not so good for your lungs."

I silently acknowledged his concern, appreciating his attentiveness. Nodding, I made my way to the other room, where the tools and carving machines were stored.

As I opened a cupboard, the scent of wood and stone filled the air, mingling with the faint smell of paint. I surveyed my options, the stone slabs and wooden slabs, contemplating which would serve as a suitable background for my water-themed artwork. My gaze fell upon the stone tiles, their light color contrasting with the dark streaks and subtle hints of color. It was the same stone as the tile I had carved Jake's name on all of those years ago, decades ago.

A surge of deep pain washed over me, the pain of losing Jake resurfacing despite passing time. Before I could fully succumb to my emotions, Damon's arms enveloped me, his touch offering comfort and support.

His voice, barely above a whisper, reached my ears. "Baby, I did not know. But come on, let me help. The pain is too much."

I took a deep breath, pushing the emotions back down, and reassured him, "I'm fine. There's no problem."

Damon gently turned me to face him, his eyes filled with determination. "Look, baby. I'm teaching, as you noticed. I didn't give you any relief when I chopped those chemicals out of your blood, and you felt it for a long time. Yes, I felt it too, but that pain is too much. I want to help too. And as you know, I am pretty ruthless when I know what is good for you and our children. Besides, that feeling is fuel for me. I'm greedy."

His words resonated with me, reminding me of his unwavering support and love. I let out a heavy sigh, meeting Damon's gaze and conveying my emotions through my eyes.

"Yes, I've noticed your ruthlessness," I said softly, "but I'm not willing to give that part of myself away. It's meant to be a part of who I am."

The memories of Jake and Rob flooded my mind, their importance to me surpassing even that of Magnum. The weight of their absence was crushing, knowing that their sons were growing up without ever knowing their fathers. I had tried to tell them, to share their stories, but it was never enough.

"Come on," I pleaded, my voice tinged with frustration. "I'm working on a water-themed design, and I need a background and some decorations."

Damon let out a weary sigh, his weariness clear in the lines on his face.

"Yes, I'll help... someday," he replied, his voice filled with resignation. "I understand you miss them, but the pain of losing them is too much to bear."

With that, he turned away from me; he walked back to other room.

Left alone in the room, I surveyed my options and settled on a dark beech background. As I made my way back to the room, a sense of emptiness washed over me, like a hollow echo of the memories I held dear. Room was empty. He had once again left. Not be able to be with me. Just like he used to do.