The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life

Life felt idyllic, especially when surrounded by a sea of satisfied and relaxed pack members. The air was thick with the scent of sex, and I found myself atop Charles, who was still asleep. After all these decades, his hot, firm body made a truly perfect mattress; he was perfect.

Adam was to my right, while Wulfe slept on my left, his arm draped possessively over my waist and back. Elena, Mimosa, Magnum, Alaric, Tim, Murdoc, and Dexter also shared the huge bed. I wasn't sure where the rest of the pack was, but we had been here for many days, and I could tell this was something I desperately needed.

Being railed by a group of lustful males, who physically pressed me into the bed and had their way with me, not to prove their superiority but simply because they had to have me, made all the difference. I was learning new things and realized that even though I was sometimes a sex beast, there were nuances to bed activity I had never before considered.

This was because Damon had pretty much stolen me, used me, and he and the other Salvatores had their own predictable way of having sex with me. It wasn't that it was ever bad, but he was always the one in charge, simply because he had to be, not because I was so irresistible that he couldn't help himself.

I sighed softly and pondered this for a while. Was Mariella the same way? Was she a passive receptor, or was there true passion between them? Sure, she was a lust queen, but lust is just one emotion, and it can be pretty dull if you only fuck because you feel lustful.

It was amazing to think that I was a creature of love. After all, I had spent most, if not all, of my supernatural life as a killer of one sort or another. Despite having saved many people, there was still a killer side to me, and the mere thought that I was a creature who needed love to thrive felt absurd.

Yet, I couldn't deny that the times I was truly loved and cared for were when I thrived the most. Maybe I deserved to be a creature of love, or perhaps this was just one of the universe's grand jokes. There was no way to know for certain.

As I lay on top of Charles, feeling so loved, cared for, and thoroughly satisfied, I couldn't help but think about love and how perfect the feeling was.

Still, there was another side to it. Charles had never caused me this kind of pain, whereas Damon had done so many times, yet this pain that racked my soul was immense, and I had hidden it deep down.

Lesson learned: I knew what I had lost, and there was no way to get it back. Mariella had made sure her hooks were deep in every damn Salvatore, so I couldn't reach them. It felt so unfair, not for me—I wasn't that possessive. Even though their love had shone brighter than the sun into my soul, I knew what perfect beings they were, and they deserved so much better than being Mariella's manwhores. Yet, they were out of my reach.

It was nice to be where I was, and soon I drifted back to sleep, lulled by the rhythm of Charles's heartbeat. I couldn't help but think how Damon was originally the force that brought us together, or maybe it was Damien—I just wasn't sure. But we were together, and that made my world pretty damn perfect.

The next time I woke up, I was alone in my own bed, in my bedroom, tucked in and feeling pretty exhausted. There was no note, and I had no idea how long it had been, but it was time to head to the shower, get dressed, and start living the life I deserved. No rage release, no gym exercises, just a meal, and then I had the perfect idea of what to do next: start a project making this house even more ours.

I wasn't going to turn this into a museum of an old Chicago house; it was time to jazz this place up. But I wasn't going to share my plans, an old habit born from a time when Damon used to take over whatever project I was doing, so I had learned to keep my secrets.

I rose and headed to my shower, a space sanctified by Adam, Charles, Magnum, and Wulfe. The thought of how well I had taught those four the art of sanctification brought a smile to my face as I stepped under the hot, cascading water. My muscles were slightly tired; after all, as a quick check of my phone confirmed, 14 days of bedtime action could put a strain on anyone.

I smiled, knowing I was insatiable in bed, but I wasn't the only one. Perhaps it was pettiness, or simply a different perspective, but I saw myself as wholly different from Mariella. She didn't seem to give as much, whereas I gave freely. I wasn't too pushy or demanding, I wasn't one to simply spread my legs and assume all cocks belonged to me.

Sex, for me, was more than a mere act; it was an expression of love. Again, being a creature of love, I had this insight, and I understood that this was the very thing that had separated me from Mariella all this time. Damon and the Salvatores were lust wizards, perhaps a little more straightforward and not so keen to express their love through sex as others might be, and perhaps that alone had made Mariella irresistible.

I couldn't stop my train of thought as I let these things rumble around in my mind; it was part of the process. I just hoped that one day I might achieve a much more serene state of mind, meaning that if I ever saw Mariella, the Salvatores, or Damon, my instant reaction wouldn't be rage-fueled disdain with a sharp tongue and zero restraint.

I wasn't proud of my opinions about them. After all, the men were my husbands, but they were also Mariella's. I just couldn't help myself. Maybe, at some point, the universe would grant me ultimate revenge on Mariella. What that would be, I had no idea, but once again, the lesson about being careful what you wish for would come to life for me and teach me a few things about myself, my pack, Mariella, and the Salvatores as well. And it would be the longest lesson of my life.

I grabbed my sponge—a plastic one, not natural—and squeezed shower gel onto it. My sponge had a soft side and a rough side, and since my skin could use a little exfoliating, I decided to scrub myself with the rough side. Oh my god, it felt amazing! I was inexplicably itchy, and nothing else had been enough to relieve it.

After washing my hair three times and my body twice, I focused on rinsing, starting with my hair. It was red, with strands of black and blonde already, but Charles wanted even more hues. So, I now had pinks and even more black stripes, along with deep golden ones, ensuring that when my hair was braided, it would be a multi-hued masterpiece.

Wulfe usually styled my hair into delicate and complex crowns on my head. In contrast, Charles and Adam mostly used braids. I wasn't the only one getting my hair done, either; Elena and Katherine also had long, thick hair and eager hairdressers, though they weren't always so keen on sitting still for the process. I

let my hands roam over my skin, across my breasts. They were now somewhere between a full B and a C cup, still perky, and didn't need a bra. Besides, if I were to wear a bra, Adam would take it as seduction, and it would quickly lead us back to the bedroom. My waist was as tiny as ever, and I had regained my muscle definition, thanks to my time at the gym, but also, I suspect, from being in the middle of week-long group sex orgies; it's truly a whole-body exercise.

I had gained some reserves, so my ass wasn't as flat as it had been, and my thighs were toned, with firm, defined muscles. All in all, I was happy with my body. Even though I was the leanest of the females, not femininely curvy like Mariella or Katherine, or Elena and Wolves, I was me, and that's what I was happy about.

Having finally rinsed off, I wrung my hair a few times, then grabbed a thick, absorbent towel and wrapped my hair in it. I didn't bother to brush it or do anything special with it, knowing that the moment I stepped into the kitchen, eager males would attend to my mane, so why bother? Let them do their thing; I could use a little more pampering. It had always been a pleasure for me when someone would put up my hair or brush it; it was just one more act of caring that I appreciated in my life, so I let it happen, I waited for it.

Stepping out of the bathroom now, wearing a thick but small-sized bathrobe, I went to my dresser and chose my outfit. It was late autumn, and even though the house was nicely heated, I might step outside, and I didn't want to have to dress all over again, so I opted for bright blue jeans, a white tee shirt, and a fluffy woolen sweater. It was actually one I had knitted myself.

This time of year, knitting was just a hobby, but then again, I should look into work sometimes, too, just to make sure there were no big snafus needing my expertise or attention, even though my whole pack was probably literally doing the work for me. After getting dressed and my damp hair hanging down my back, it was time to head into the kitchen.

I was hungry and pretty sure there would be a meal waiting for me. I wasn't too sure if others would be joining me, but I didn't care; I could eat alone, read some medicine or anatomy at the same time, and enjoy my meal without needing to be so prim and proper. Reading and eating at the same time was fun, but it was also a treat, as we did live in a pack, and it was more likely that I would have company, either someone eating something or just spending time with me.

Despite my base species being jaguar, which meant I was more solitary than the rest of the pack, I was also a person with a brain in my head, not just a mindless beast running on instincts. Of course, those instincts did come into play during breeding season, but then again, this new thing that Charles, Adam, and Colin had set up made me happy; it was just something I never thought I would get, despite it being different for me than the rest of the pack, thanks to Damon's little interference with my body a long time ago, which was permanent, and not even he could dismantle or change it, no matter what he felt for me nowadays, if he felt anything.

Walking into the kitchen, I was immediately struck by the green and pink hues of the unakite counters, curtains, and even the rag rugs on the floor. I was fairly certain that Charles and perhaps even Adam had made those rugs. I had seen several examples of their warp and weft work in various houses, and these materials were always available in our interconnected craft room, making it easy for them to create new rugs.

As I headed towards the fridge, Alaric greeted me, saying, "Oh, you're awake. Let me grab your dinner; it's in the oven. Adam and the boys are out woodchopping, so you're on your own, but I doubt you'll mind."

He walked briskly to the large oven, which was much bigger than the one we had in Chicago, and pulled out a huge tray containing a roast, baked potatoes, and sauces, all prepared and ready. He placed the tray on the countertop and began filling my plate, which was fine with me. I went to our walk-in fridge to get my drinks and noticed that my coffee machine was loaded and ready to go; all I had to do was press a button.

Again, I didn't mind. Perhaps someday I might find this level of interference a little much, but not for now. I liked being cared for, and these small gestures were a visceral reminder of the love they felt for me. Their love and care were, in short, amazing. I carried my drinks to my place at the table. Each of us had a different colored stone circle, enchanted with a spell to keep our food warm.

These circles were made from different stones and minerals: mine was rose quartz, Adam's was moonstone, Charles's was sunstone, Wulfe's was obsidian, Mimosa's was lace agate, Shadow's was money agate, Magnum's was unakite, and the others each had their own minerals.

Furthermore, each of the six of us had a chakra mark carved into our stone, signifying me, Charles, Adam, Wulfe, Leopard, and Demon. While each of us had one official chakra, supernaturals have many more chakras, and they are not named in the same way, but I recognized these marks.

After Alaric placed my food on the table, he asked, "Do you need anything else, my love? I could go too."

He glanced outside, and it was obvious he also wanted to chop some wood.

I nodded and said, "Go on, I am just fine."

He smiled, and I felt the strength of our bond, a new kind of bond forged by that special thing Charles had made. It amplified my emotions, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly what I was feeling. There were so many emotions, both old and new. The future was ours once again, filled with the possibility of something entirely new and amazing.

But as it is, my life rarely stays simple for long. Soon, I would begin a whole new chapter, one that would teach me—through this pack, Damon, and Mariella—so many lessons. It would literally change our world, at least for a time.

The food was perfect, as always, but I noticed a difference, a subtle signature that betrayed the chef. While still nutritionally sound, the use of different herbs and spices, the level of saltiness, and the way the meat was wrapped all pointed to Colin.

He had used a few of his leprechaun herbs, imparting a unique tang that no one else could achieve, while still bringing the brightness of citrus to the forefront in my lemon hollandaise sauce. The roll was filled with organ terrine, and a hint of salty smokiness told me he had incorporated some smoked meats or organs. The tang of yogurt in my other rich cream sauce added yet another layer. This meal was so much more than just sustenance; it was a masterpiece, and I truly savored every bite.

I wasn't sure if Mariella, the Salvatores, or anyone else appreciated food on this level, and frankly, I didn't care. I was indulging myself, enjoying my life, and preparing to start my decoration project.

I glanced at the large white wall where the fireplace was placed. The sideboards were not ornamental, and the mantel was quite plain, but my little artwork would give it just the right amount of bling, jazz, style, and uniqueness. It wouldn't be a fast project, as I would be building it up in layers. Oh yeah, life was truly perfect, and this was my time, Mimi Salvatore, alpha female of the pack, to finally enjoy life after all the shit I had gone through.