As our house finally came into view, I hummed "Puff the Magic Dragon" under my breath in the dark car. It was nighttime; the clock on my dashboard showed 3 a.m., or a little after, when we got home. The babies were asleep in their seats.
I had a car full of stuff – everything I'd bought and kept with me, as we'd looked at eight houses. My gear was still in the car, as I hadn't been sure after leaving our last house if I'd buy yet another one. But no, I had decided to drive back home. It was the 15th of June.
Our trip had taken fifteen days, and with the ten days in the hospital, it had been almost a month since we left. As I drove up our road, I saw lights flickering on, and the door was open, warm light emanating from within, and silhouettes of several people visible, literally waiting for us.
We had eaten all kinds of junk food, but I had tried here and there to make decent meals. However, this was the start of our recovery, as well as our reward, so we had enjoyed eating naughtily. Now that we were back home, I could cook much more wisely. And I might not tell everything we ate to my sometimes too-pedantic husbands, who wanted to make sure we ate as correctly as possible.
Since we were all skinny, it gave them even more reason to be careful. My babies looked skinny; their heads looked huge compared to their much leaner bodies, with their ribs showing. But every one of them walked without help and was babbling and laughing, but also very clingy, so I couldn't rule out nightmares.
I parked the car near the door. As I shut down the engine, the doors were already open, and my eager husbands were bundling sleepy babies into their arms. I could see from their expressions, as they held those babies, that they felt just how skinny they were, and the need to care for them was even stronger.
I opened my seatbelt and got out of the car. Adam was standing nearby as I opened the trunk, and he was already checking what was inside.
As I walked towards him, he said, "Take what you need for now. Give me the keys, and I'll park the car in the garage. We can empty it later, or place some of this stuff in storage, ready for the next road trip, whoever goes on it."
I nodded and began gathering our clothes, several bags, my supplies, and what medical supplies I had left. Weeks ago, while I was still in the hospital, I had told the Salvatores how precious the bump liquid was. They had ensured we could donate any that didn't meet our standards.
As for humans, a lower standard was acceptable. Numbers four and two were very strict about calorie content, lipid profiles, and other such things, which were less critical for humans, considering their slow metabolism compared to our rapid one.
I didn't have time to gather my things myself, as they were immediately taken from me. I unloaded them onto the ground. Demon, Lepard, and a few Salvatores were still around. Wulfe had one taking babies, as well as Salvatores number two, three, four, and five, so they were already inside putting the babies to bed, while the rest of the pack, or so it seemed, swarmed me.
Number ten said to me as I reached for my heavy bag containing my wallet and other essentials, "Don't even try. The others will bring them in. Now, you, let's go inside. Change your clothes, then eat. You're a skeleton with skin on, and it takes effort to get you well."
I rolled my eyes. That bag contained all the hospital papers, discharge orders, and upcoming follow-up appointments for the babies. It wasn't quite yet, but in a few weeks, the doctor and his team would travel to Roseau, where we would be checked out. I was just unsure how many would try to come with me, and how many I would let come with me.
Since my medical guardian, Number One, had withdrawn his role long before the crisis began—almost a year prior—I had the right to control the contents of my medical records. Therefore, I omitted certain facts from the notes sent to our internal system. For instance, my fainting spells, Darien's resuscitation, and the gossip of the interns were excluded. Not every lab test result or doctor's dictation was included, either.
The reason? I was protecting my pack. They knew it had been a difficult situation, but they didn't need to know every detail. There was no need for them to see the babies as weak or as victims, only as toddlers recovering and ready to bring more mayhem and chaos to our household.
Tiredly, I walked inside. The long drive had worn me out, and despite my enjoyment of driving, it was work, especially when done at night. I went to the elevator, entering it with Numbers Ten and Nine trailing behind like shadows.
Their expressions were tense, their jet-black hair shiny, and the white stripes marking them as wizards were visible on the backs of their heads. Their icy, arctic-blue eyes could appear cruel to an outsider, but I knew my husbands. They carefully masked their worry over me, and it still took a great effort for them to show their love publicly. They, too, were traumatized by the past and by their time in the crystal cubes.
That place had been nightmarish, unsettling, and their supposed rest or safekeeping was anything but restful. I suspected that, as an unwilling siphon, I might have dosed those cubes with something, making it very hard for the Salvatores to be trapped inside.
My siphoning ability wasn't a big deal, at least not to me. However, I could only control it partially. It often worked based on my wishes or emotions. Consequently, I couldn't predict which mineral or object would absorb my emotions, like stones. Not all gemstones worked, and some absorbed them a little too well.
My emotions were also intertwined with my memories, including my bloodlust, making it a complex process. My unique mind held all the sensations and emotions of past events; in other words, time did not heal my wounds.
The Salvatores, renowned for their empathy, and others, could consume my emotions, both good and bad. While others typically used telepathy to dispel and hide my memories, Wulfe, being the strongest, didn't ask permission. If he saw a nasty memory, he'd take care of it, sometimes deleting everything, leaving only the knowledge of what happened, but no actual recollection.
He was my other half, the same to me as Mariella was to Number One: a sounding board, a companion, someone who understood me. But he was also determined to keep me safe, as happy as possible, and no longer burdened by my past torments.
As the elevator reached the top floor, we exited, and I walked into our wing. To my surprise, the kitchen was dark, the chores display was off, and no one had logged anything. It was obvious they hadn't been around much, implying they had spent time downstairs, which was fine by me.
I walked to the kitchen, silently flicked our display on, and hadn't logged anything yet. I heard the soft grunt of Salvatore behind me – impatient, caring, and determined to make sure I changed my clothes, and not try to do anything else just yet. I walked to my bedroom next, turning the lights on.
It had been quite some time since I'd last been there, and most of my own scent had faded, thanks to the industrial cleaning and my absence. Despite layering my pheromones heavily, they'd evaporated after, hmm, well, two months. I'd mostly been with toddlers when they were sick, then hospitalization, followed by our trip; time flies.
Number ten approached my dresser, beginning to select clothes. Meanwhile, number nine guided me toward the bathroom, instructing me to shower.
"Go on," he urged, "wash up. We've prepared some food. You'll eat a good meal, rest, and then we'll see what comes after some proper rest and recovery."
I rolled my eyes, but remained silent. His tone was sharp, and my alpha side reacted instinctively. However, I was cunning; I wouldn't push back, but instead formulated a plan in my mind. I needed to regain control, and perhaps a good night's sleep would do the trick.
At the very least, the pack was caring for us, and I was exhausted and sweaty. I entered the bathroom, removed my clothes, and began a long, hot shower to wash away the lingering smells of driving, sweat, and fatigue. The warm water relaxed my muscles, intensifying my exhaustion. Sleep was now a truly appealing idea.
However, before I could succumb to it, I needed to eat something. Considering I was likely under 50 kilos, having lost 20 or more since my top weight of 73 kilos before the illness, I had a lot of recovering to do. I sighed and prepared myself to face my probably anxious husbands, knowing they would see my weakened state. I could dress behind my partition, but would that arouse suspicion? I had no idea.
As I finally shut off the water and wrung out my hair, I opened the shower curtain, only to find Numbers Ten and Nine staring at me.
"Oops," I thought, "I guess they know now."
Number Ten said softly, "I see you've been on a diet, twenty kilos or more. Well, guess what, baby? You'll have plenty of attentive husbands and protectors making sure you're eating exactly as you should. Wulfe and the others told us toddlers are skinny, too, so we have work to do. Fine, come on, skeleton, put that thicker robe on you; don't get cold."
I grabbed the pink bathrobe, as it seemed my larger ones had once again been taken by my husbands. It was irritating, but then again, it was one of our games, or rather, their games, something we'd had since the very beginning. Damon had taken what was mine, and he was smug about it. It made me roll my eyes, but then again, it was our thing, and it warmed my heart.
I remembered well enough a time when this didn't happen, a dark time in my life, but it was just part of my very complex and long past. There was no need to dwell on it. Well, if I *were* to dwell on it, these husbands of mine, telepaths that they were, would get a hint of it, and they would make sure it wouldn't haunt me.
They would telepathically restructure my mind; it was something they needed to do to me from time to time, for many reasons. But the main one was that I was once human, and I got kidnapped, experimented on, and turned supernatural. I was, in fact, the first lab-made werewolf, but that damn experiment triggered my evolution, which in turn made me what I am.
The original experiment had specific goals. One was to turn me into a rabid killer, so they manipulated my mind, making it so I remembered everything in detail—every sound, smell, and touch, always. It was meant to break my mind, to shatter me. But I escaped before they could brainwash me. However, a certain fragility remained, and my evolution made me compensate.
It gave me a unique mind, but that mind was still prone to getting stuck, so to speak. Whenever I felt I had to be strong, I was strongest, and I was alone, with no one to catch me, I would get stuck in my mind, tangled in my memories and anxieties. This would cause a syndrome to bloom, meaning I wouldn't sleep, I'd be overly restless, and I would hide.
But in time, the Salvatores, Charles, Wulfe, all of them, had learned this. Even more, they dealt with it. They made me rest, made me feel safe, and untangled my mind. It was their job, well, according to them, anyway. But in reality, they had me.
Wrapping myself in a robe, I stepped out of the bathroom with them. Number Ten turned off the lights, while Number Nine directed me to the bench near my vanity. There, they began preparing my hair. An assortment of bottles and jars was laid out; they had discovered suitable hair products for me. Surprisingly, these products were actually meant for dogs, but they worked best for me, sparking my curiosity.
A question popped into my head: "Did you know Sadie refuses to let anything in her hair? No ponytails, no braids. Her hair is quite long and curly, so it gets tangled. She hates it when I try to brush it. I'm not sure if she's sensitive, but it feels like she could use some conditioner or something."
Number Ten replied, "We'll check on that. I'll let the others know, so they can check on her in the morning or when they put her hair up. Did you know, baby, that I missed you guys so incredibly much? I never believed I could miss those babies so much. By the way, Mariella isn't very happy with her current state."
I simply smiled and said, "We had fun, but I swear, I'm not going shopping alone with those five anytime soon. We had been at the mall when some humans started to snipe at me, criticizing what a nasty mom I was for making Sadie walk and push the strollers. Their overfed, fat babies were just twitching in their fancy strollers while the women ate their salads."
Damon chimed in, "Oh baby, I would have commented something about overfeeding babies and hiding avocado in salad to get secret calories."
I rolled my eyes and said, "I had to put the babies in the baby park to get our supplies. When we were at the house, I spent 80 percent of my time picking up the babies from the wrong places. I bought a playpen for them, but it made them mad most of the time. They are pretty damn curious, so you should know that. I noticed our gates have been taken out, so you might want some of them back."
Number Nine commented, "Oh, don't worry, baby. With all of us here, I am sure we can manage. It will be fine, you will see. They are lovely, and when we fill them right up, they are surely drowsy and might nap more."
I was quiet, amused by their perception of the toddlers. But I had warned them; if they didn't heed my warnings, it was hardly my problem, was it now?