It was Tuesday, and I wasn't well enough to go to work. I was furious because Number Two was still holding the damn spell, preventing me from using my powers to cope. Seriously, what was the point of having powers if I couldn't use them? Mariella was also at home; my little accident had made the men super alert and very protective.
Consequently, when it had snowed heavily over the weekend and Monday, Mariella wasn't allowed to go to work because of the weather. Since Damon was working longer hours now, earning more money, he wouldn't have taken her shifts or driven her. That wasn't an option anyway, as the men had decided that being pregnant equated to permanent disability, or at least it felt that way.
I had a bump, I had noticed it over the weekend. It was slight, but it was there. I had, of course, taken pictures, videos, and reports for Mimosa and the others. While it felt a little silly, it also gave me a smug feeling, as Mariella hadn't gotten hers yet.
My glucose meter worked fine, but because I was preoccupied, I didn't rush to the kitchen to eat right away. Then my phone rang; it was usually Wulfe or Number One, sternly telling me they expected an alert of my low sugars to disappear in the next ten minutes. Otherwise, they would make sure I went to work after I had kept my sugars at an optimal level for 48 hours, which was pretty impossible. And I wanted to go to work.
Charles had gone instead of me, as he also had to check on finances. He was good at making bouquets. Several of the Salvatores, as well as Adam, had discussed over the weekend how my flower shop could grow into a nursery, and then it would be a whole pack effort, not just mine.
It would take time, but oh my god, I had to control myself and not throw a tantrum of millennia as my hormones surged. I was so freaking pissed off by the whole thing, even though it was very reasonable and would help the whole pack make more money, but it was *my* shop.
I told Mariella as I headed to the snake room to check on the eggs. I had some time, and it was almost hatching season.
"I'll be in the snake room, checking on the eggs. If you need me, you know where to find me," I said.
"Oh, let me come too!" she replied. "Those eggs are so dented, I can feel the snakes moving inside. I can't wait for them to hatch!"
I rolled my eyes, but figured it was fine if she came along. We had only identified about twenty percent of the snakes so far because they hadn't shed. Once the babies hatched and shed, we could learn more about their parents' genes and determine which ones to sell and at what price.
Of course, with several people, including Adam and Charles, also assessing prices for each combination, the final pricing wouldn't be my decision. I was wearing a light pink, satin shirt and loose pants, as my tightest jeans no longer fit, and I liked to show off my bump.
The shirt made it even more pronounced, and it was surely growing faster than Mariella's. I had five little ones growing inside me, after all. My hair was down, in big, messy curls, held back from my face with a simple hairband. I liked it that way.
I walked into the snake room, and Mariella was already there, making sure we had everything we needed: wipes to clean the eggs and other supplies. We usually marked down the clutches we checked, and our big snakes and the male snakes each had their own rooms. Those would be sold eventually, after we got their genes tested. Our reticulated python eggs took longer to hatch, about 88 days, whereas ball pythons took around 60. So far, the retic eggs were doing fine. I took the first tray from the incubator and placed it on the table.
Mariella opened it and picked up an egg. "Oh, this egg is broken, see, it has a crack," she said, examining it.
The egg was soft, but not broken; it was pipped.
I smiled. "Nope, it's not broken, it's pipped. Someone is eager to come out." Mariella exclaimed, "Oh my god, you mean..."
Now I nodded, understanding that we would need to move this clutch into a separate incubator. Mariella began the process of warming it up while we continued to monitor the other seven eggs. Three of those had already pipped, and we would check on them daily. Any emerging baby snakes would soon have their own designated space.
Wulfe's voice echoed in my mind, "Oh my gosh, I think I'm going to take some time off to see those pipped ones."
I simply smiled, feeling his presence as he witnessed the eggs through my eyes.
I then told Mariella, "We'll give these eggs a few days, maybe three, to fully hatch. If they don't, we'll carefully cut them open. The snake might be missing its egg tooth, or something else could be preventing them from coming out."
She nodded, and we placed the clutch into the incubator, with Mariella getting another one ready for inspection. With so many clutches pipping, we knew our hands would be full in the coming days.
I was eager to return to work, although I wasn't sure if Charles could handle everything. I was still a control freak, after all. Besides, I was feeling remarkably well, even though I was incredibly sore, and the nasty bruise had yet to fade.
I'd read in my "bible" that during pregnancy, a mother's healing capabilities often decrease, or at least drop considerably, as the babies absorb so many resources. The more babies, the greater the demand, meaning that certain enzymes and substances that allowed me to heal quickly were now being redirected to help my babies develop their organs and nervous systems. There was little I could do about it, but it still irritated me to be so limited for months.
After checking on the snakes, I went to my study, or my craft room, as I was still sorting out my benefits and other paperwork. Now, I would have more days of maternity leave because I had five babies. If I had to take time off before my official maternity leave began, I would receive benefits for special circumstances.
I wasn't entirely sure if Charles had even looked at my benefits, and since they were taxable, I wasn't sure what percentage would be taken. But, I would have time to figure it out. Charles had also told me, and Mariella, that they would set up our nurseries and that it wasn't our concern; they would take care of it. As pack leader, he had the final say.
My irritation surged as I paced the room, muttering to myself, "What the fuck does he think he's doing? This is just pregnancy. Will he bench me for every damn scrape and bruise? I'm fine, truly fine. There's no problem anymore, and it was just one accident – no harm done. But no, he has to overpower me with his little operation."
My rant continued, sometimes directed at Damon, sometimes at Mariella, or the universe, or even my own stupid body, as my brisk walk caused my bruised midsection to ache. The pain added its own commentary, wanting me to suffer, or so my hormone-fueled, sugar-starved mind imagined.
Finally, I sat down to think, and as usual, my mind drifted through memories. I didn't even notice Mariella walk in.
She looked at my wire-wrapping efforts and said, "These are quite nice. Have you shown these to Damon? I bet he would like to tinker with these."
Lost in thought, I replied, "Has Damon ever told you about the time Bran bricked me into a wall? And the heat after it, and then, of course, more troubles with Bran, and with Damien? It feels like my life has been one thing leading to another, and I've always been bearing the brunt. I knew Wulfe would do anything for me, and Damon would go quite far too, but I couldn't shake my history. My past deeds… I sometimes wondered if I deserved it. Did I deserve someone like Wulfe in my life? It's different for you and Damon; he doesn't question his worth in your eyes, he knows he deserves you, he needs you, but I guess I'm broken or something, because I just don't always..."
Mariella said, "You do deserve it. Take it from me, who was once part of God and still remembers that time. He, God, wants you to take a break. He knows very well what you've been through, what you have to do, and what you've lost."
I blinked and replied, "But for me, it's just another opinion. It's not how I feel. I guess I'm trying to find a way to grow, or to accept myself more. Sure, I do what needs to be done, and I don't ask permission. Still, there's that feeling of hollowness that follows, the feeling of having lost so much. I guess there's something I don't know. My mind is what it is, and sometimes I get in a funk; that's just who I am. I'm not the bubbly, giggling type, not at all. I'm cynical, jaded, and right now, I'm not sure if I'm the best mother for these five. I'm grateful for those girls; they're way better moms than I am. If I can't do this, I can care for babies, sure, but we're talking about twelve years of raising and molding. I don't think I'm equipped for that."
Mariella rolled her eyes and said, "You're not the only one. Come on. Lust Queen here? Can I swear I'm always in the mood for helping someone with homework? Or am I fucking my brains out and leaving the raising of my flesh and blood to others? And I must admit, I'm not sure if Damon is the best possible father figure. Again, it's good we have others like Adam or Charles; those two are pretty damn perfect." Her voice was tinged with uncertainty as well.
Still lost in my past, I said, "Just think, I was in the forest. We had just escaped, and it was a reckless idea. I hadn't even thought I wouldn't be able to hold my wolf's form longer than the moon allowed, so I hadn't reserved any clothes or anything warm. Then, just by chance, or divine intervention, Adam was there. We had gotten a big moose for us, and we were eating it when the moon began to drop, and I changed. It was almost minus forty degrees Celsius out there, and this huge black and blue wolf came. I was trying to crouch low, to show I was no threat, but he then removed the last of the innards and pulled me, pushed me into the moose, and wrapped himself around me. And then he howled."
Mariella was silent for a moment. "I had no idea. I know you gave Damon your memories from that, but he never said a word. No wonder he's so into you."
I told her, "I was still human, or at least, semi-human, when we met. They were supposed to save me, but then they got caught. It's amazing to think that Adam was part of the mix that turned me supernatural. Less pleasant is the fact that Bran was also a part of me. As for Samuel, well, I'm not sure what to think. I sometimes wonder how much they, or their DNA, might have influenced me. Did my need to protect everyone come from Adam's DNA or his teachings? Is Bran behind my less-than-pleasant aspects? Am I a doctor because of Samuel, but I have no idea. It's possible the original mix was all blended, and no actual chromosomes from them came to me. I just don't know; it's just what I sometimes ponder."
Mariella responded, "You're forgetting a very big part of your life, something that shaped you maybe more than those three: Damon. He's been with you a long time, taught you a lot, both good and bad things. He has influenced you, too; after all, he's your biological half."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Of course, he's been there. Oh God, I'm so freaking frustrated. I think I'll hit the gym to vent a little."
Mariella said, "I'm in too. Let's have a little fight again, the same routine: three minutes, then a ten-minute pause. Try to learn to shut my adrenaline down too; I think it does us both good."
I rolled my eyes again, stood up, and said, "Let's go then. A little venting does both of us good. I mean, I have such nasty sentences in my mind for everyone, even for Charles, and I try to control myself because I don't want to be the object of his corrective actions; he can be inventive as hell."
Mariella smirked and said, "I might take him on. I have a few punchy ones too, and I'm just itching to see if he gets irritated. Best yet, Damon can't stop him, and I know it pisses him off. Oh, it would be a double win to get both of them pissed off."
I noticed that she too, was feeling hormonal. Well, our pregnancy seemed to be a proper test for all of us, not just us females, but for the males too, as they had to bear with us and our sentences.
I suspected Damon might not approve of our plans, but this was our life, our decisions. Since he was no longer in charge, he could complain all he wanted. We needed to release some tension, and I was tired of being the good girl who obeyed men. No more.
I knew my body and its need for movement; I was made to move. As we walked to the gym, I explained to Mariella how important it was to maintain our shape in case we needed to give birth vaginally. We needed to ensure we'd done our exercises and stretching so our bodies could accommodate the delivery.
While I wasn't sure if my babies would grow more after birth or if they'd need to be in the NICU, I wasn't dwelling on it. It was time to fight, move, and get used to my bump. I had a tape measure to track my daily measurements, and I wasn't going to announce my pregnancy to Damon or Wulfe.
There was no need for them to fuss. Soon enough, it would be much more pronounced, and they would see it. Carrying five babies for months would be a significant load. Therefore, I needed to stay fit, keep my muscles firm and supportive. I had many reasons to keep going, and fewer reasons to stop. My body, my choice—that was my motto right now.