I walked up to the fire and settled into my usual spot—the right side of number one—reassured that everyone else had found their places in the campsite as well. As evening approached, the sun dipped below the horizon, birdsong gave way to the quiet of dusk, and the air filled with the scent of wood smoke.
The day's warmth began to lessen, a welcome change as the nights weren't bitterly cold. I glanced at my pack, a reminder that I was the alpha female and considered this pack as my own, also these Salvatores.
Ten of them, each distinct. Their unique hairstyles—the placement of the white stripe marking them as wizards—was the most obvious difference, but even without that, their varied expressions and gestures made each easily identifiable. Their number was ten because the power of Salvatore's magic required that many to control it.
Number one, the original, the only one not placed in a vessel to await better times, was the one who loved Mariella most; in a way, he was the most broken, having been Damien's—his evil twin brother's—prisoner for so long. Number two wore a cruel expression, his eyes cold, his smirk dangerous. Number three exuded a seductive calm and friendliness, even offering me a slight smile. Number four, one of our main medics, possessed a playful, easygoing nature tempered by a serious edge; he was a bit of my Damon, a bit of core. Number five, one of the quieter Salvatores, rarely smiled, but his gaze held a longing, a desire to spend time with me. He could be cruel and sharp when needed, and usually lost himself in his thoughts. Number six was a seducer, eager for intimacy and given to graphic, explicit banter with Mariella, which invariably flustered her.
Number Seven sang, usually humming, sometimes even singing out loud for fun—all because of me. He had resided in a quartz ball, a paperweight and study decoration, while I worked with my playlist on. This constant exposure to music had inspired him to hum and sing.
Number Eight, another seducer, was the most impatient; he usually just went along with things, taking Mariella and ensuring her compliance, making her squeak in the throes of pleasure. He sometimes took me, but usually only during the heat, and he was perhaps the most distant of the salvatores.
Numbers Nine and Ten watched me, vying for my attention and company. Similar to Number One, but crueler and more demanding, they seemed to possess a deep-seated need for my presence and care, a need that took considerable time to manifest.
While they initially appeared identical, all ten of them were on their journey. They were developing into distinct individuals—a fascinating process to observe. I had seen glimpses of them during my years with Damon, even though they had been taken away, yet a little bit had been left behind, and I often wondered or tried to pinpoint who was where in what moment. Not easy as they were similar in many things, and I just could not say for sure.
I waited for my food, and soon Number Nine brought me an enormous plate of steaming meat. The aroma was intoxicating, and I began to eat immediately; there were no rules about when to eat, and some pack members were already dining. The succulent meat exploded with flavor, and I rolled my eyes in pure pleasure. It was divine.
I don't know if it was the outdoor setting or our pre-meal activities, but this was unbelievably tasty. The accompanying béchamel sauce was to die for. I devoured my plate, and salvatore promptly refilled it. With a daily caloric expenditure of 15,000 to 25,000 kcal, I needed to eat a substantial amount.
I was a strange creature, incredibly difficult to manage. My feeding regime was a novel form of science, but I had ten Salvatores as protectors, experts in my unique needs. Their knowledge was passed down to other pack members. My metabolism was extraordinarily high; in fact, I didn't digest carbohydrates at all.
This, combined with my inability to extract every calorie from my meals, meant I needed to consume far more than the recommended amount to meet my caloric needs. I had my protectors taking care of my feeding and my overall health, as I needed caffeine; I needed certain types of sugars. My pancreas was not really working as it should, and it all affected my metabolism and food absorption.
Protection was one facet of our supernatural existence; some of us possessed an innate knowledge of others' requirements. I was a demanding client, with ten Salvatores as my protectors, but ironically, the universe upped the ante and made me the protector of ten of them. We looked after each other.
And there was also a biological need to be close to your biological half, which in my case, was salvatores, especially number one. Being close to him brought this sense of peace and contentment, and being away from him, well, it was downright painful from time to time, but I had no right to demand he be with me every single second. He was Mariella's more than mine on so many levels.
I hadn't been a protector for long; I'd originally relinquished my role to Mariella, but, as Jurassic Park taught us, life finds a way. I had no choice but to resume my duty, though I wasn't a benevolent protector. They quickly learned the lengths I'd go to ensure they ate properly and attended to their physical needs.
Feeding me seemed to be an innate, deeply satisfying act for all Salvatores. It had been my life for a long time, and I had learned from it. Eating an insane amount of fatty beef, stretching my stomach to accommodate ten liters of food without even bulging, was natural for me.
I, Mimi Salvatore, a multi-shapeshifting vampire chimera, was a creature of my own subspecies; there would never be another like me. Originally created from a crazy experiment that transformed a human into a super-werewolf, it triggered my evolution. Now, a few centuries later, with much behind me, I am, surprisingly, a creature of love. I doubt my so-called creators intended their little killer to become a creature of love. The universe has its own rules, and one can never predict what lies ahead.
After dinner, as we sat by the campfire digesting our food, a few of the guys were talking amongst themselves. I wasn't paying much attention to their conversation; Mariella, as usual, was fawning over Number One, her mind buzzing with plans.
As darkness fell, I could still taste the fruit puree with whipped cream—made from our cow's milk—that we'd enjoyed. I was considering retiring to my tent when Number Two stood, pulling me up as well, and drawing everyone's attention to us.
Someone snickered something about my tent needing "sanctification," again, but Number Two's voice silenced them. "Mimi, baby," he said, "I'm going to make you a promise. You know me, and you know how rarely I make promises—even more rarely than Number One. My promise to you is simple: you are my first. If necessary, for you and others, you will be my number one, and your well-being, love, and happiness will come first, always and forever. You are my first."
I was speechless, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. Mariella's displeased frown betrayed her resentment at the attention I was receiving from Salvatore. Finally, though my voice trembled, I looked Number Two in the eye, feeling a deep connection between us.
"I was made to love you, Damon," I said, "and you, you are the one who refused to give in. I can't imagine what those seven years must have been like for you, though it was a long time ago. I know what it's like to be without your other half. Your promise is huge, and I'm not sure I'm worthy of it. I am who I am, and it's more than likely you'll regret this promise, feeling it like chains. And if you ever want to take it back, I won't blame you. Even though I was made to love you, I am far from perfect as a wife, a woman, a partner."
Number two smiled, kissed me, and said, "You know what, baby? Now I feel complete, safe, and secure having you as my own. I promise to always prioritize you above all others."
His ice-blue eyes quickly glanced at Mariella, and I realized he had secured himself against ever being a 'pussy slave' again. This, however, seemed to make Mariella less happy. Almost oppressively, a wave of jealousy flooded our bond with number one, and I saw him desperately searching for a way to regain the upper hand that number two's affection for me had given number two.
Mariella whispered something to him, but he pushed her away, stood up, and schooled his expression into a friendly neutrality. Wulfe smirked at me, blinking slowly in apparent approval of number two's grand gesture; he clearly understood the strength of our bond, knowing nothing could come between us.
Number one looked around the room, searching for the words to make a comparable promise to Mimi. His existing promise to Mariella bound him, but he was formulating a plan. He reasoned that prioritizing the baby over Mariella might be necessary, given certain circumstances. Mariella's incessant jealousy irritated him; he'd already reminded her of her place, and this was not the time for such displays. As pack leader, Damon—number one—had to make this work.
Damon Salvatore found himself at a crossroads, a realization that spurred him to grow up, take control, and see what the future held. His carefully chosen words served multiple purposes, many of which Mariella, blinded by jealousy, wouldn't initially grasp.
In a calm voice, he said, "Well, that was something—big feelings here. It's good, baby, that you've got Salvatore backing you up if I can't be there. But this gave me an idea. Since it seems time to make promises, let's try this, shall we?"
He looked at everyone, noting their gazes upon him. Mimi and Number Two had sat down; Number Two had pulled Mimi onto his lap, leaving her slightly unsure.
Number One declared, "I promise you all that I am first packleader, then pack doctor, then alpha male, and then husband. So, if needed, I am always a packleader first, and as such, I can help you as much as I can, or get you the help you need."
Mariella furrowed her brows; this was not good. Damon had essentially overruled his promise to her by prioritizing alpha male over husband, implying the alpha male would care for his alpha female first, then other females. This meant Damon could choose Mimi over her.
However, upon reflection, Mariella saw a potential silver lining. Damon was overbearing, always dictating her life, and this promise might afford her some independence—choosing her hairstyle, clothes, or even what to eat and drink. Perhaps this would be a good thing. And with Number One and Number Two making similar promises, along with the other males in the pack, she could enjoy some variety in her personal life.
Mariella, in her smug thoughts, forgot that her husband was a powerful telepath. Their bond was open, and her ideas were broadcast directly to his mind. He smiled thinly. Mariella would soon learn the difference between his treatment of her and his treatment of the pack. Further insubordination might result in punishment.
Other pack members would witness this, and it would solidify his position as pack leader. He would prioritize his leadership role above all others, abandoning his previous tendency to retreat from challenges.
This would shift power away from Mimi, who had previously dominated the pack using her alpha female status. Despite his attempts to establish a clear order of succession, Mimi had manipulated the pack. As pack leader, he would address any issues directly. He planned to implement unbreakable rules.
I sat in Number Two's lap; his possessive grip and low growl were palpable. Number One had made his promise, but I wasn't worried about him prioritizing Mariella over me—I had my husband, and I wasn't concerned about the future implications.
Number Two then telepathically reassured me: "My love, imagine our holiday time. We, I mean Salvatores and Mariella, would be in the Azores. You'll be pursuing your orchid collection, as I picked that little idea from your mind about your islands and classifying rare orchids and whatnot alone, but as I made my promise, all I would have to do is teleport to you, and I'll be there with you. It will be paradise. As your happiness and you are my priority, I might just spend a few months there with you, just two of us, and you would get to teach me all things botany, that's if you did not seduce me right off the bat with your skimpy bikini like back in England."
I was silent as I realized that. I mean, I needed my time from time to time and to be alone, and now this; I had just gotten burdock like no other in me. And there was nothing that Mariella could do. Or number one, even, as it would be my wellbeing, my safety, and whatnot in question, and it would be time for me to learn this.
But then again, Damon being who he was, maybe he might get into Mariella despite his promise, as she was seductive, and who knows what would happen in the long run. Number two was not immune to seduction, and Mariella was very well aware of that, so her jealousy might grant me my freedom.
My life had just gotten much more interesting, and well, let's just say that the trip was just going to get more intense as other Salvatores had chosen me, and I just hoped that it would not be time for new promises anytime soon. Five salvatores had broken out from their original hive because of me, so there were five of whom I was more important than Mariella.
I might be able to withstand one burdock, well, I might get used to him or he might get bored with me, but if all the other four would make promises for me too, and wanted to be with me over Mariella, I would not have that much freedom in my life.
Number two murmured to my ear, "well baby, it is soon time to go our tent, and have some quality time, I belive this version is not really sanctified properly and in morning or whenever we will stop, I will choose your clothes, so you get to show me what you have preserved."
I rolled my eyes, really, but his grip over my waist was unrelenting, his hot, hard body made my body react, like a woman's body react to man's eager body, so I shifted my hips, making him grunt oh so sexily, and make Mariella furrow her brows as well.
Number one was talking with number four and nine, ignoring Mariella, but I saw Wulfe walking up to Mariella. He could be very seductive too, and it was usually Wulfe's little antics that got number one taking possession of Mariella and keeping her as his own. So it was time for some hardcore sex in our cool tent, and I could tell from number two's full jeans that I was going to get nailed and hard, too. I was quite ready for that.