After Mariella recovered from her sniffles and her kids were healthy, I focused on maintaining our household and ensuring my company's stability. I'd been spending a few days there myself, and the kids were fine with it; they had company, and I wasn't there all day, just for a few hours—maybe five—allowing me to connect with customers, chat, and have some time outside of family life, which made a big difference for me.
Of course, we were busy, as others wanted to work too, including Wulfe, who had been in the office two days a week. According to him, his biggest motivation wasn't the money, but my lunchboxes, which had caused a lot of envy among his coworkers. Well, at least he enjoyed them.
I was on kitchen duty again, and we were now doing more, relying less on our point system since there were still tasks that needed to be done. So, I was busy even when at home. I had the oven full of meats cooking for dinner, lunch had been eaten, and I was on my way to the laundry when Mariella approached me.
"Oh hi! How are you doing? It's crazy busy since Dickweed wanted to go back to work, but I hope it helps him. He's just pissed off because a few epidemics are going on, and he keeps the whole ER full all the time. He then has to make sure those who need more care get it, with a limited space in wards because these diseases are very infectious."
I nodded and replied, "Maybe it helps him, gives him some kind of identity or something. Well, today we have four salvatores working, as well as Adam, Lepard, and Wulfe, too, so yeah, we are busy. I have orders for 16 different arrangements in the next three weeks, so no need for me to be doing nothing. And my five... oh my god, they are everywhere, always doing something unhealthy. Our wing is becoming like some petting zoo with child gates everywhere. Then we have to give them opportunities to walk in the kitchen when it's safe, but when is that, when our oven is almost always heated? I mean, it is crazy stressful, but then again, it is something utterly new even to me."
I rolled my eyes, my tirade finally over. Mariella smiled and nodded, clearly understanding my frustration.
"My twins want to decorate everything, and not in the best way," I continued. "Yesterday, Seraphina, well, she used the contents of her full diaper on the living room wall, leaving shitty palm prints on every surface. After eight hours of scrubbing and casting cleaning spells, Wulfe got fed up and cast a spell that prevents anything from sticking. Inspired by her sister, Sabrina then used her diaper on the boys, and let's just say we had a little smelly problem before we could get everything cleaned up. Adam swore he'd personally teach them potty training as soon as possible, and Lepard said he'd tape those damn diapers so no tiny hands could get in."
Mariella was bent over, holding her belly and laughing loudly.
She finally wiped her eyes and said, "Oh, God, I hope my trio won't be that inventive, but thanks for the warning. I can put some spells in place to prevent them from doing that kind of thing."
I nodded. It had been quite intense, and, well, smelly. We couldn't blow up in front of the kids, though; they were just being explorative and giving us lessons in how to use bodily secretions creatively, forcing us to learn and anticipate. Of course, it was now even more frantic for the Salvatores to move anything slightly expensive or valuable to safety; no need to get some antique table covered in toddler poo.
As I finally reached the laundry room, I began my tasks: opening the machines, pulling washed clothes into baskets, and transferring items for drying. Across the expansive room, with its ten-plus machines, Mariella was doing the same. We had a large volume of laundry to manage, given the 25 adults and 8 toddlers, and we didn't do laundry daily, so there was always a lot.
In a playful mood, she chose different scented fabric softeners, even for the Salvatores. They got lily of the valley or rose, introducing floral notes alongside the more masculine scents. For number one, it was ultimate – I had gotten bubblegum-scented softener for the babies, and she used it on number one's clothes. I rolled my eyes, but it was fun. Surely, some of the Salvatores might comment, "Really?" but they'd have to accept it and enjoy the scent.
Once all the full sacks of washable clothes were churning in the machines – a mix of more delicate materials and mostly cotton – we moved to the drying room. We started taking out the previously dried clothes and hanging the new, wet ones. I enjoyed these every day, normal chores, but I couldn't spend too much time here.
I would have to teleport my clothes upstairs without folding them and then sit on the sofa, folding them while watching the kids. Sure, it was sometimes frustrating, as Seraphina and Sabrina might come and undo my work, spreading the clothes everywhere, but at least my patience grew.
Now that Mariella was free, I could give her clothes for her kids, herself and number one, and also some of the others' clothes. This meant the men would have their clothes in many rooms, leaving me with slightly less to fold for the five of them. They were lovely, truly, but, by God, what a handful.
As I hung the clothes, I wondered how patient I would be as the children grew. Would I be someone who could handle it all without irritation, or were there limits to my patience?
I reminisced about a few nights ago when I'd had a wild time with Number Two. He'd given me no choice but to be flattened beneath him, legs spread as he fucked my brains out, growling in my ear. He called me "babygirl" in a deep, sexy voice, and sparks flew in my eyes; it was so intensely pleasurable.
Several explosions left me limp, satiated, and tired. I fell asleep on top of him and woke up in the same position, drooling on his chest while he had drooled on my pillow. It was wonderful.
I had to share part of this with Mariella.
I sent her the details via Hive, and she looked at me and said, "You dirty minx! Oh my gosh, I wonder if he'll growl at me the same way. And your tandem drooling... well, I don't drool, but I know for a fact that sometimes Damon has drooled all over my hair and just used a spell to clean the mess. So nowadays, I keep my hair in a bun when I go to sleep."
Her voice was amused, but there was a slight note of longing or perhaps dissatisfaction; she yearned for something she wasn't yet getting.
I said, "Well, Number Two, he is intense when he sees fit, and let's face it, he's getting stronger by the day, as he too sees me as a challenge. Charles, well, he is the pack leader, but then again, he works and has multiple avenues to handle things, so he lets me do my thing; no need to micromanage me. But as you know, with Salvatores, strong leadership in women's hands is a combination of seduction and challenge, wrapped in a goddamn bow. But he doesn't have that magical tattoo... yet. I've heard him talking to Wulfe, and if he does it, well, you know just how greedy the Salvatores can be."
Mariella furrowed her brow. "What do you mean? Sure, you could do some powering down; you're oozing power and almost exploding from your seams, but what else?"
I rolled my eyes. I was strong, but not *that* bad.
"Well, I heard him talking to Wulfe about how he'd like his magical symbol to be omnipotent, meaning drawing power from me, but also from you, girls, and also for the future, Mimosa, Shadow Elena, and Katherine too. Just imagine my surprise when Wulfe told him it wouldn't even be hard for him to come up with that kind of symbol, and he could also give them the ability to control their own chakras back."
Mariella exclaimed, "Shit, really? That's some nasty news for us. Soon, all ten of them will be like leeches, drawing power from us. No, no, I need to talk to Damon and see what he thinks. Maybe he can put a stop to it."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Don't get your hopes up. He might want an upgrade, too, especially since you're so suitable near him. He might take you as a target."
Mariella pursed her lips, trying to figure out how to stop this. She could tell Damon, but even with his current issues, this might be too much of a temptation for him.
As for me, I wasn't so scared. I was literally bursting with power, and it didn't take much to overwhelm the Salvatores. They wouldn't get much power from me. I had too much momentum; I had collected my power, and power breeds power, so I had plenty. It would be fun to see, say, five Salvatores floored by my donations, a lesson for them, for sure.
Once we finally finished the laundry, and Mariella had some folding to do, she told me, "I like to fold clothes in certain ways. I've watched videos on Facebook, and there are lots of different ways to fold, some of them handy. But then the Salvatores... arrgh! Come on, one can fold clothes differently, but no, if the dickweed is nearby, he comes and refolds the damn clothes as he wants! But if I give him a basket full of unfolded clothes, he tells me to fold them."
I smirked and said, "Let's just say it's good to be powerful in certain aspects. I've kept the Salvatores from messing with my folding. And it's very educational for them to have a basket full of crumpled-up clothes! If they come and tell me how to fold, then they fold the clothes themselves. Let me tell you, Number Two's expression the first time when I made him fold his own clothes was priceless. Sure, Wulfe loves to fold, and he doesn't give advice; he folds as he wants, and it's all fine. I don't demand they fold as I do, but trying to correct me? Not a good choice."
Mariella said wishfully before departing, "Oh, I wish sometimes I could be you. I mean, but then again, I get that it's not that easy and glorious all the time, but damn, those expressions! I'd love to see them sometimes. And girl, you've got one hell of a set of balls on you."
Then she walked to her rooms, ready to tackle the clothes and folding, probably hoping that Number One, aka the dickweed, wasn't around at that time.
I walked to our wing, already listing in my mind the tasks I needed to do. I had a long list of various tasks, not weekly or monthly ones, but small things I had noticed. Despite our usual practice of writing these tasks on magnetic strips and placing them on our board for anyone to see and complete, I decided to handle them myself, saving time.
Since so many of us were working, I didn't want to write the tasks down only to do them myself later. I was, in a sense, optimizing the workflow. It wasn't about mistrust or anything, but a bit of laziness, and perhaps a touch of selfishness, as I knew I could manage them alone.
There was no need to bother others, even though I had a capable team of husbands with me, all the time. However, it wasn't just me; I wasn't always one for sharing, even though I'd learned that sharing often means caring.
One of the tasks was once again changing a few sets of curtains. I had done some work in the hamster storage area and found nice, big boxes of curtains suitable for summer and spring. I had teleported them here, as I wanted to change the curtains in my bedrooms, living room, lounge, and craft room.
Now, it was time for more airy, lighter fabrics. I had a set of pale tones, as well as a few flowery designs, all made of very gauzy fabric—just perfect. All I needed was a set of scissors and a few rolls of my handy tape. My portable ironing rod would be perfect for finishing those curtains, in case they were too long. This tape would be heated with my sort of almost curling iron, and it would create a neat seam on the curtain—just perfect.
Others, I was sure, were also changing their curtains, and they had their own preferences. However, for now, I wanted to do this myself. The living room was tall, which meant I'd have to do some climbing. But I was pretty agile, and it wasn't a big deal—at least, not in my book.
The Salvatores, for some reason, found it unnerving to watch me climb too high on things that weren't entirely stable. But hey, I was immortal and unkillable, so what could go wrong? It didn't occur to me that they could actually levitate, which would probably make hanging the curtains easy. No, I wanted to do it myself. I loved them, I really did, but my independence sometimes roared to life in a big way.
Then, I had another minor project: the feline room. We hadn't originally planned a dedicated room, but after exploring the house, I found the perfect space. I'd been slowly upgrading it, transforming it into a feline haven—a place where we could spend time when we needed to, in both smaller and larger feline forms. Learning to optimize each of my feline forms was paramount. I also realized that once the men caught wind of it, they'd want to join in. But I needed to get it perfect first.
Oh, I could envision it: dozens of felines running through the various exercises I'd devised, with me giving feedback and orders, like a drill sergeant. So freaking perfect! Of course, I would show them how it's done first, and they would have to repeat it. I was actually looking forward to that time, but it wasn't here yet, as I didn't have all my tools and playthings ready, and I hadn't tested everything enough.
For example, what form to take when climbing on a slippery surface? Could you resist the call of catnip? What kind of jump is needed to get from point A to point B, or even point D? What is the best form for navigating a certain kind of tunnel?
Then again, the men might not be that interested, and this could be my private paradise. One thing was certain: I loved to challenge myself, and I knew what I could already do. I also knew what I couldn't do yet, and I would strive to learn how to do it. I wasn't going to go easy on myself, not at all.
I would have my secret little projects here and there, and they might get out someday, but that would be dealt with when the time came. No need to worry about the future; the focus was on the here and now.