As the sun set, casting a warm golden glow over Virginia, I pulled into the driveway. To my surprise, Samuel emerged from the front door, his eyes widening as they landed on my car. A low whistle escaped his lips.
"Well, here's a beauty," he exclaimed. "One day, you'll have to give me the keys so I can enjoy myself."
I couldn't help but smile, standing up and replying, "Dream on, I don't share my cars easily."
Just then, the front door swung open, revealing Damon's presence. He paused for a moment, a flicker of regret crossing his face. Grabbing my bag, I made my way towards the door.
Locking eyes with Damon, I spoke firmly, "Remember, your choice, your burden. What you choose, what you need, that's what you'll have to live with. But I have something else for us to discuss. Let's see if you can help me out with it."
Damon grunted in response, his voice filled with frustration. "Yeah, I know. I wasn't a husband, I was a fucking machine. But I don't know why. Why did I have to drink and sleep with a stranger when I could have been with you, teaching you everything you learned and so much more? I tortured myself, always watching what you did, but I never found the strength to leave that damn chair, to leave that damn party, and be with you. I don't know why."
Silently, I carried my bag inside, the sound of Mimosa's paws eagerly padding towards me. I was dressed in a cotton dress, its white fabric adorned with delicate pink and gold patterns. It hugged my figure perfectly, and as I ascended the stairs in my high-heeled sandals, they made a satisfying click-clack sound.
Damon didn't follow me. Instead, he headed towards the living room to converse with Adam and Mimosa. I entered our spacious bedroom, flicking on the light switch. Taking in the scene, I realized Damon hadn't been here. Uncertainty filled the air, and I wondered if the passionate encounter I had been yearning for would come to fruition. Perhaps I had been too distant, too cold towards him. Maybe I should have just kissed him, understood his struggles, and let go of the past. But at that moment, my emotions took over, and I reacted accordingly.
I let out a weary sigh and gently placed my bag on the soft bedspread. As I opened the closet, its creaking hinges echoed in the room. Slowly, I began to carefully hang my clothes, one by one, on the hangers. The scent of freshness filled the air as I arranged my shirts and dresses, each with their own memories attached.
Just as I was about to tuck my favorite shirt, I had used it for a few hours here and there, and it still smelled fresh, into the cupboard, a determined hand swiftly snatched it away from me. A deep, husky voice whispered dangerously close to my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"Darling, don't even think about it. Laundry belongs in the wash, not the cupboard," Damon firmly stated.
Feeling his presence behind me, I released my grip on the shirt, surrendering to his command.
He took hold of me and gently urged, "Darling, go take a shower. I'll take care of our clothes, and then we can grab a bite to eat."
Reluctantly, I nodded, accepting my role as the obedient one. But as Damon's vampire claws grazed my neck, a surge of fiery passion overcame me. I swiftly turned around and kissed him with a wild intensity, matching his desire.
His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint as he pulled away, his voice low and seductive. "Well, go on then. What did you want to talk about?"
I hesitated, my voice betraying my uncertainty. "Do you remember when Damien chased me from my island to my ranch in Australia? I teleported. Now, I want to learn more about it. Do I possess that ability? Was it a one-time occurrence, or am I simply yet to discover it?"
Damon's gaze sharpened, his curiosity piqued. "Why don't you take a shower, and I'll see what I can find out," he suggested. "Perhaps you have the ability, but there are risks involved. Go on, freshen up, and I'll delve into your mind a bit to uncover the truth."
I nodded in agreement, making my way into the bathroom. Slowly, I undressed, the fabric of my clothes feeling heavy in my tired hands. I carefully placed them in the laundry chute.
As I stepped into the warm shower, the cascading water embraced my body, washing away the weariness of the past months. The steam enveloped me, creating a sanctuary of relaxation. Unbeknownst to me, Damon's presence gently brushed against the recesses of my mind, his touch delicate yet penetrating.
Lost in my thoughts, I focused on cleansing myself, the hot water soothing my exhausted muscles. A sense of fatigue washed over me, a reminder of the countless nights I had spent wide awake, unaware of my body's need for rest. It had become my new normal, an existence without sleep.
When I stepped out of the steamy shower, the warm droplets glistening on my skin, I wrapped myself in a plush bathrobe. Damon had already unpacked both our bags, neatly arranging our belongings. He sat on the edge of the bed, the crisp sheets rustling softly beneath him.
His voice filled the room as he spoke, "Now darling, you possess the ability, but I have placed a barrier so you cannot use it just yet. You're not yet strong enough, and it wouldn't be wise to access it prematurely. Mimosa commanded this, you know. The ability will come to you when you are truly ready and capable. You see, now that it operates through sheer willpower, overexertion is dangerous. You might attempt something beyond your capabilities, and according to Mimosa, that could plunge you into a deep hibernation. It would be difficult to revive you from such a state, and that's certainly not ideal. So, you must restrain yourself for now until you have the strength and control to wield it properly. It functions based on wishful thinking, allowing you to be sitting on your couch at home, watching a video of France on your laptop, and if your will is strong enough, it would actually attempt to transport you there. However, you would likely find yourself unconscious in the middle of the Atlantic, on the brink of hibernation."
I nodded, understanding the cautionary words. "Yes, I comprehend," I replied. "It's actually fortunate that this issue arose. It occurred to me when I was berating myself for my weakness, unable to escape Damien's clutches in the shed. I should be the invincible flea, but I feel like a feeble Mimi."
Damon let out a sigh, his concern clear. "I know, darling. But now, put on that nightie, and we'll go to bed after dinner. You haven't had proper rest since then, so it's time to snooze once more."
Damon stood up, his footsteps resonating softly as he moved towards the kitchen. "I'll get the dishes ready. You get dressed. Join me for dinner, and then we can both retire for the night, my darling."
I nodded, watching him depart. Oh, he was undeniably handsome.
His voice echoed in my mind, "Thank you, darling. But there's no need to seduce me just yet. Rest first, and then the sex beast can impress me with her prowess."
I chuckled and dressed myself. I changed my hair once again, transforming it from a vibrant magenta to a deep, sultry blood red. I let the damp strands cascade in bouncy curls, allowing them to flow freely.
I descended the stairs with my fluffy slippers, their softness cushioning each step. As I entered the kitchen, Bran was already there, silent but regret clear in his fleeting glance. Stationed at the stove, Damon continued to cook, while Adam noticed my tousled hair and grinned mischievously, aware of how it could playfully taunt Damon. Meanwhile, Samuel sat at the table, engrossed in a magazine.
I joined him, and Adam began serving drinks and coffee, while Damon prepared the rest of the meal. I couldn't help but appreciate the delightful aromas that filled the kitchen. The clinking of dishes could be heard as Damon artfully plated my food and prepared a tray. I heard the refrigerator door open, and he retrieved a smoothie from inside. With the tray in hand, he approached me and set it before me.
Turning to get his food, he noticed my hair and remarked, "Naughty girl. Fine, I'll do your hair first."
He disappeared momentarily, returning and standing behind me, gently brushing and blow-drying my hair. Using a rechargeable hair dryer, he meticulously styled it into a multi-strand braid, with little French braids encircling my head before merging into one that cascaded down my back. Satisfied with his handiwork, he happily retrieved his own food and brought me more than once I had progressed.
Joining me at the table, he spoke telepathically, "By the way, I gleaned some recipes from your mind, darling. Your savory pastries sound amazing. We should bake them together one day and see how delectable we can make them."
I replied, "Yeah, I took a brief tour when I was eager to learn. Sugar creations are also quite enjoyable."
Damon merely grunted, and we continued to eat absentmindedly. I playfully pretended to notice Bran's jealousy over my food, understanding why he always devoured it when given the chance.
After the meal, we retired to the bedroom, where Damon undressed while I remained in my nightdress. I realized we had separate blankets adorned with exquisite duvets, but now the bed was covered with a double bed blanket. As I approached the bed, Damon lifted the blanket, inviting me to join him.
He held me tightly against his warm body, embracing me. Fatigue washed over me, and I quickly succumbed to sleep, feeling safe and secure in his arms. I wasn't aware if he had any medication on hand, but it didn't matter as sleep overtook me swiftly.
I woke up by myself in the morning, feeling the sunlight's soft warmth filtering through the curtains. I stretched out in bed, relishing the comfort of the crisp sheets against my skin. Just as I drifted back to sleep, Mimosa, my loyal wolf companion, bounded onto the bed, playfully tugging at the covers and urging me to get ready for breakfast. Her excitement was infectious, and as I prepared myself, she seamlessly connected with my thoughts, jumping into my mind and curling up to rest there. Yet her presence was comforting and reassuring.
As I gathered my clothes, I realized I had enjoyed a blissful 14-hour slumber, leaving me feeling incredibly refreshed and energized. With renewed vigor, I made my way downstairs, my mind already brimming with anticipation of the adventures ahead. These were the moments when my soul truly sang, and I couldn't wait to embrace them.
While enjoying our breakfast, the doorbell suddenly rang, shattering the tranquil atmosphere. Curiosity piqued, I hurried to answer the door, only to be taken aback by the presence of Wulfe, a teenage boy who possessed the combined powers of a vampire and a wizard. Without skipping a beat, Wulfe confidently strode past me and into the kitchen, greeting everyone with a cheery "Good morning."
His words held an air of mystique as he revealed he had surprises in store for each of us. However, he also clarified that none of us were to move from our spots, a command enforced by a touch of his magical abilities. Intrigued, yet slightly apprehensive, I listened intently as he unveiled our destinies.
He declared Bran would find himself in Peru, where a loving wife and a successful career as a company director awaited him. Samuel would excel as a top surgeon in Italy, accompanied by a wife and a magnificent home. Adam's future lay in Australia, where he would thrive as the owner of a prosperous ranch surrounded by livestock and a blissful married life. And Damon would become the Prime Minister of Sweden, with a glamorous wife who exuded the timeless beauty of Sophia Loren.
Wulfe assured us that men's memories of their real lives and identities, and no one would remember me, would be temporarily erased in this chapter of their lives, allowing them to immerse themselves fully in their newfound happiness. Only after four weeks would actual memories resurface, but by then, they would be so content in their new lives that the past would hold little significance.
Wulfe snapped his fingers, the sound echoing through the air, and in an instant, the men vanished from sight. His piercing gaze locked onto me, and with a mix of determination and remorse, he uttered, "My unicorn, believe it or not, I am doing this for you." The weight of his words lingered in the air, accompanied by the scent of uncertainty.
"I warned you I'm not always nice, so you will not like this," he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "You're going to my brother's ship to fight. You know exactly what it involves, so I don't have to tell you." The gravity of the situation settled upon me, amplifying the tension in the air.
"Six weeks," he stated, his tone heavy with the weight of time. "Then you're out. By then, all the men in your life will have dumped you and found someone else, succumbing to the allure of these women who possess inexplicable fertility and seductiveness." The notion hung in the air, enveloped in a bittersweet aroma.
"One night," he continued, his voice tinged with a touch of sadness, "and a new life is born. Women become pregnant before anyone says anything. And all men, including Damon and Samuel, will have the honor of caring for their own children. They won't come back to you." The solemnity of his words weighed heavily upon me, their impact reverberating in my chest.
"I'll give you time," he offered, a glimmer of respite in his eyes, "after the six weeks to discover this before my brother's underlings take you back to the ship. If they do, maybe my brother has made sufficient gains, and believe it or not, he specifically asked for you. So, I did him a favor for once." The air held a sense of both anticipation and trepidation.
"I'll get you freedom from the power of men," he concluded, his voice filled with conviction, "while simultaneously granting your flock a chance to live another life." The weight of his promise settled upon me, intertwining with a mix of dread and uncertainty. I was in deep shit, more or less.
Fight club ship would put in again in terrible shape, so there would not be sex beast and fucking machine having a good time. No, there would be again long and hard recovery for me, seeing the damn wallet and phone on the nightstand. How I hated my life.
And with a sinister snap of his fingers, Wulfe transported me back onto the fight club ship. I found myself confined within a cramped cage, barely able to stand, leaving me vulnerable to any objects thrust through its narrow openings. Three men approached, scrutinizing me from head to toe with cold, calculating gazes.
One of them retrieved an ampoule and a syringe, shattering the glass vessel and extracting its contents. Another man reached for a glass jar and retrieved something from within. The two substances were expertly combined within the syringe, the man skillfully inverting it to mix them thoroughly before attaching a needle to its end.
Gripping the syringe firmly, he extended it towards me. At that moment, determination surged through me, and I readied myself to seize the stick and wrench it from his grasp. Meanwhile, the other two men circled around the cage, their presence heightening the tension in the air. I flexed my muscles, preparing for the imminent struggle.
Despite my attire comprising fluffy slippers, a black satin shirt, and a dark red leather skirt, Damon's choice of clothing, I was confident that I could handle the forthcoming ordeal. I mentally calculated my limited space for dodging - two steps laterally and three steps longitudinally.
Suddenly, the two men armed themselves with tasers and forcefully thrust them against my body. The jolts of electricity coursed through me, rendering my body immobile as the needle pierced my thigh. Expletives escaped my lips as I realized the gravity of the situation. The men nonchalantly retreated, leaving me slumped at the cage's base, still subjected to the electric current.
The cocktail of drugs injected earlier gradually took effect, causing my senses to blur. My mind became clouded, my vision distorted, and my muscles unresponsive. A heavy sedation weighed upon me, preventing me from fully accessing my rage and leaving me disoriented and uncertain.
After what felt like an eternity, the men returned, unlatched the cage, and forcefully dragged me into another room. They hoisted my limp body onto a table and secured spiked handcuffs around my wrists. Cannulas were inserted into my veins, and the drugs dripped steadily. The metallic tang of fear mingled with the acrid scent of sedatives, excitants, anesthetics, and stimulants permeating the air. This potent concoction of drugs heightened the fighter's frenzied state, making it nearly impossible to predict the outcome of the impending fight.