20. Maria Madgalena.

I had meticulously prepared my nest, and the flooring that Charles had installed was a dream come true. It was incredibly soft and comfortable to walk on, providing the perfect spot to give birth. As my contractions intensified, doubts started to creep into my mind. Could I handle this on my own? I had gathered a substantial amount of supplies, but the trepidation remained.

The moment of birth arrived, and I had created a designated area on the floor where I could safely deliver the puppies. I wanted them to be close to me, so I arranged a litter box nearby. However, as the contractions became more intense, there was no one around to offer support.

Each cub that emerged weighed around a kilogram, making the process even more challenging. After thirty cubs, I realized I hadn't made any progress in shrinking, and my strength was waning. Sweat drenched my body, and the realization hit me that there were still hundreds of cubs inside me. This wasn't going according to plan.

It was pure magic how the cubs grew right before they were born, ensuring they were a good size upon arrival. With each contraction, I could feel the next one starting to develop. It was becoming clear that I desperately needed assistance. However, both Damon and Charles seemed oblivious to my distress, leaving me with no choice but to reach out to Mariella. Perhaps she could provide an explanation or send help.

Through our pack bonds, I mentally pleaded with Mariella, "What kind of crisis am I going through? I can't possibly deliver all of these cubs on my own. Is there any way you could convince Adam or Charles to lend a hand? These cubs are fully grown, weighing about a kilogram each, and there are so many of them."

Mariella's eyes widened in surprise as she replied, her voice filled with disbelief, "What, are you in labor already? Did you tell anyone?"

I couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound filling the room.

"I've been pouring out my problems and thoughts to my husband for the past two weeks, but he hasn't responded. I've been struggling with numerous issues, feeling enormous and surviving on liquid meals, while spending most of my time sleeping. Clearly, he doesn't care. So get Adam or Charles because at least they do care," I snapped. 

A heavy silence hung in the air as Mariella's gaze shifted towards Damon. Her brows furrowed with irritation as she glared at him lying in bed, his expression smug and relaxed.

Frustration laced her words as she confronted him. "What the fuck is wrong with you now? That breed? Congratulations, Mimi was starting to trust you again, and guess what? She doesn't trust you anymore. Poor girl is in a semi-panic, giving birth all by herself, knowing you don't give a damn. She's facing countless problems, desperately trying to communicate with you, but you just don't care. Well, I do care, and I'm not wasting any more time. I'm going to help the alpha female of our pack. My instincts are screaming at me, urging me to aid her, even if it means rushing her to the operating theater for a cesarean." 

Damon's voice trembled as he confessed, "I didn't go to Mimi because I killed three embryos. I ended the lives of her and Charles' offspring. I have no right."

Mariella scoffed, her disbelief evident as she retorted, "You're lying to my face. What a convenient excuse to deceive yourself and take a fucking vacation! Unbelievable, Damon. Don't bother coming then. I won't be free to be fucked, as I'll be doing everything I can for our alpha female." 

Damon let out a weary sigh, his movements filled with resignation as he cleaned himself off and dressed. The room was heavy with the aftermath of their argument. Thoughts swirled in his mind as he pondered on the past two weeks, during which he had focused solely on physical pleasure, shutting off his telepathic connection. He hadn't been mentally present, just lost in the act. It was a careless mistake.

But deep down, he believed Mimi would be fine. She was strong and seeking attention. Perhaps, he thought, her behavior was merely a result of hormonal fluctuations, like the other women in their pack.

I continued to struggle, feeling a surge of frustration and confusion washing over me. The weight of the situation hit me hard, and I couldn't help but wonder what on earth I was going to do. It was during these early days, when the puppies were still young and innocent, that I couldn't allow myself to get angry or let my rage consume me. These cubs could sense my rage and maybe tap into it and it was not meant for them. So I had to rely on sheer willpower, but what if that wasn't enough? What would be the answer then?

With a sense of desperation, I realized I needed to come up with a plan, a backup plan, and even another backup plan. But now, as I racked my brain for ideas, I was running out of options. I tried to conserve my energy, attempting to remain calm for as long as possible before the inevitable push, but it felt like this self-control was depleting my resources.

I was drenched in sweat, grunting with exertion as I pushed with all my might, hoping for a brief respite between contractions. But the intensity and frequency of the contractions made that break almost insignificant.

As I endured the excruciating pain without the solace of my rage, I felt mentally drained. The realization that the lives of these unborn cubs rested solely on my shoulders only added to the complexity of the situation.

Mariella, accompanied by Damons, hurriedly made her way towards Mimi's puppy room, sensing the tension in the air. She knew that if they pushed any further, there could be an explosion of emotions.

Her mind raced, trying to figure out how to assist Mimi and what steps to take first. Her priority was to calm Mimi down, providing support and assessing the situation. Even though this was a new and unfamiliar circumstance for Mariella, her mind was already formulating a plan. 

But as they made their way to see Mimi, they noticed a change in her demeanor. She appeared to be running out of steam, her energy waning. Damon 1, however, remained unconvinced. He remembered how fit and well-nourished Mimi had been during her pregnancy, so he believed her exhaustion was merely a cry for attention, a result of her hormonal state.

Nevertheless, he decided to calm Mariella down, who was growing concerned. He knew that once she understood the situation, she would realize that Mimi would be just fine. He hadn't activated his protector radar or telepathy yet, as he wanted to catch her in the act. 

When Mariella entered the room, she was the first to notice that Mimi had returned to her nest. The room was bathed in bright light, illuminating the new material of the floor, which consisted of soft, colorful blocks. Mimi sat on the floor, surrounded by towels and pads. An enormous pile of towels lay nearby, along with a bottle-warming device.

One thing that she noticed was that the front of Mimi's blouse was wet. She was producing milk. Damon had curbed from her and both of the wolves' milk production from early on, but as he had not cared for his alpha female, she was producing milk again for the whole pack.

There were so many sounds and scents in this room, even soft flooring absorbed the echoes. The melodious sounds of newborn cubs, kittens, and puppies fill the air. The room carried a scent of strawberries mixed with the rawness of birth. Mimi's lower body was bare, except for a t-shirt she wore. She appeared sweaty and exhausted, her immense belly contracting visibly. Despite being in the throes of labor, Mimi stiffened as Mariella approached her nest. 

Inside the box, many kittens moved about, their tiny forms adding to the commotion. Mariella watched as Mimi delicately picked up a newborn kitten. It was snow leopard, good sized, almost a kilo in weight, gently drying it before placing it in a bottle to feed. The floor held a milk bottle warmer, filled to the brim with bottles of milk, ready to nourish Mimi's growing brood.

Mariella noticed the front of Mimi's shirt was drenched with milk cascading down like a rushing river. The pungent scent of lactation filled the room, a clear indication that Mimi's condition was deteriorating. She would be very quite slim state after this birth. As her fitness was in her milk, more or less.

Mariella sighed in her mind. Her guardian radar, tuned to her instincts, and her rescuer radar, trained to sense danger, both signaled that Mimi would be weakened after giving birth to the puppies. Mariella knew what she had to do - she had to taste Mimi's blood to create a concoction that would halt the milk flow and aid her.

The cubs within Mimi's swollen belly seemed enormous, their presence evident through the audible grunts of effort as she tried to push them out. It was a struggle, as one push rarely sufficed. The room was teeming with cubs of various species - tigers, lions, and even snow leopards - each born healthy and robust.

Mimi had been producing milk for a week now, while Damon, not privy to her communication, had intentionally shut off his telepathic abilities. This obliviousness to Mimi's plight was evident in his demeanor.

Mimi's face appeared gaunt, dark circles accentuating her weary eyes, yet determination flickered within them. In just a few seconds, Mariella observed these details and readied herself to assist Mimi. However, a firm grip on her arm halted her advance. Mimi raised her head, her yellow eyes piercing through, a sign of her feline instincts surfacing.

Damon number two, cautious and perceptive, spoke. "Let number one go first, ensuring the lady isn't driven solely by instinct before you enter her den. Her striking yellow eyes are a warning, suggesting she might react unfavorably."

Mariella sighed, acknowledging Damon's astuteness, and watched as he took charge. He, too, had noticed the significance of her yellow eyes and the subtle growl-like vocalization, a clear sign of a warning. Damon had noticed that she was in a dire state and this would require him to take full control of the situation as it would provide safety for Mimi and she would have him to support her and take the lead. 

Continuing my delivery, I carefully picked up each tiny kitten, gently drying them off before placing them next to bottles. The room was filled with an array of bottles, ready to accommodate any unforeseen needs. I made sure that cubs would start to suckle and then I would also wipe the bums of those who had already fed as they did not pee and poo themselves, but needed help with that. So my hands were busy almost all the time, and I needed to keep my grips gentle. Snow leopards were the most common, but there were also tigers, lions, cheetahs, and a few spotted cats. All of them were like a part of me, my own feline family. 

The burns persisted in a steady discomfort that made it difficult for me to push the cub out. I tried to let the contractions guide the process, but I was still too full, too overwhelmed. It wasn't a simple contraction and push that brought these giants into the world, but a slow and draining effort. 

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Mariella and the Damons entered my sanctuary. My protective instincts took over, and I let out a low growl. I was on edge, defensive of my nest. Before I could regain control, I realized how foolish it was to growl at them.

They were here to help, especially Mariella. I could sense Damon's first reaction, his doubt that I was in any real trouble. He just glanced at me at first, ready to dismiss my plight. I could see from Mariella's face that she knew that this was no straightforward situation. 

Mariella locked eyes with me, taking a cautious step forward, but Damon2 intervened. He stopped her as number one approached, crouching down beside me. He had seen too that I was not lying, and I needed some kind of help. 

His gaze met mine, and he spoke softly, "Now, baby, I'm going to position myself behind you and use my energy to help push out the puppy. Just relax and let me take the lead. You don't have to push at all."

He moved now quickly, getting behind me and moving stuff out of the way. He gently guided me to lean against him, capturing my trembling hands in his. I had several cubs in bottles and a few of them needed soon wiping and now this one held on my hands. 

He held onto me tightly, his grip like a vise around my hands. The room was softly lit,keeping the atmosphere as calm as possible. His voice was low and menacing as he spoke. "Mariella and Two are on their way to take the puppies. You don't need to wipe them or do anything, just listen to my voice and do what I tell you. Two will taste your blood soon, putting an end to your milk production. You always exaggerate."

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, sending shivers down my spine. He took over the situation, and it made me feel a little insecure at first as I was not sure if could I trust him to do this with me. 

His strong body was behind me, supporting me while his hands kept their firm grip on mine, keeping me focused on giving birth. I could feel the heat of his energy as he helped guide the cub, but the burns on my body were a constant source of pain, draining my energy. Two approached and sank his teeth into my wrist, causing a momentary pause. It took just a little time. Soon, One bent down and sank his fangs into my neck. He spilled something into my veins. The surge of energy within me intensified, aiding in the birthing process. With a little effort from me, the puppy slipped out swiftly.

"It's easier when we work together," I muttered through gritted teeth.

Damon grunted in acknowledgment, still gripping my hands. We continued our joint task, but the pain was overwhelming me. The exertion and pushing drained my strength. I had no time to even touch the newborn cubs, as they were swiftly attended to once they were born. I had lost track of how far along we were in this process. 

Somewhere in the midst of it all, someone handed me a drink and a bite to eat, and I consumed them without question. My hands were secured and Damon fed me, giving me a straw to suck and drink something. Adam, Charles, and the wolves had joined in to assist, but the pups showed no signs of becoming smaller. Charles appeared irritated when he glanced at Damon, and concern etched his face when he looked at me. At least my milk had stopped leaking, providing some relief. 

I could feel the dampness of Damon's shirt from my sweat, and now and then, he would wipe my forehead with a gentle touch. My tee shirt was wet, and I was sweaty, smelly, and increasingly tired, but birthing just went on. However, his grip on my hands remained unyielding. There were no visible bruises, but I could not free myself from his hold.

Charles asked Mariella in his head when Mimi had been in labor for 48 hours straight and still went on, " Shouldn't we operate on that? Mimi's strength won't last much longer. What on earth is Salvatore about that organic birth that he has to punish Mimi with that kind of torture?"

Mariella was silent and then said, "Damon helps all the time. They do that together as a couple. That's very important. That will help their bond. Mimi gets fed and hydrated. And you don't see how Damon takes care of his bitch? Are you jealous, maybe? Damon will know if he has to operate, but we're well over halfway there, as you can see how Mimi has shrunk. Don't worry, Charles, my love, everything will be fine."

Charles grunted and hoped for the best. He could feel how exhausted Mimi was, but despite that, the labor continued. He hoped he had been in Damon's place, supporting Mimi and helping her, but they were working as a couple. 

By now, there had been over 700 puppies, and they were big puppies. If this had been a similar spawning event to the one Mimi had given birth to, where she made over a thousand, this would have been over quickly, but the pups had grown as big as possible inside Mimi, and getting them out took work. 

The birth lasted 72 hours. The result came in at 1585, and all the big ones. Mimi was exhausted after giving birth, and Charles looked forward to tending to her. He would take care of her and make sure that she would rest and recover, and there was no hurry for her to tend to her cubs. 

Thank goodness that was over. I was exhausted and totally tired. Now, I just wanted to rest. I was still sitting on Damon's lap on the floor as he energetically pushed my womb's remnants out of me.

He said, "Well done, Mimi," his voice filled with a mix of pride and exhaustion.

The room was filled with the musky scent of sweat and birthing, and milk, and all the scents that there were after this tremendous effort.

"We did this together as alphas," he continued, his words carrying a sense of accomplishment.

But I could see the weariness etched on his face. "But I think you're pretty exhausted. Don't worry. I'll transfer you to the medbay," he assured me, his touch gentle as he helped me to my feet.

The room spun as I stood, my legs trembling beneath me. He chuckled softly, his warm gaze never leaving mine.

"You are not going to stand," he said, his voice filled with concern. "You are too dizzy, so I might as well carry you."

With ease, he lifted me into his arms, his strength a comforting presence. In an instant, we were transported to the Medbay. As he settled me onto the bed, I could hear the soft hum of medical equipment and the hushed voices of the doctors. Mariella and Damon 2nd were already there, their presence a reassurance. Exhaustion washed over me, and I turned onto my side, seeking respite. 

Damon approached me, his voice soothing. "Go to sleep," he whispered, his words lulling me into a tranquil state. "I will not give you any medicine to knock you out yet. Just go to sleep. You're so exhausted you'll hardly notice what we're doing." With those words, I closed my eyes, succumbing to the embrace of sleep.

Mariella's gaze fell upon Mimi, a silent understanding passing between them as Damon decided Mimi needed rest, and she would sleep for a couple of days, guided by the watchful care of those around her. Mariella was not sure if Damon understood it, as he would not give her drugs. Or at least he said so to Mimi. Mariella watched as Damon sat beside Mimi, his touch gentle as he stroked her hair, ensuring she was deeply asleep before proceeding. With practiced precision, he placed a central line on Mimi, the cool sensation of the medical device against her skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch.

Damon then went to the medicine cabinet and took several anesthetics from there, all strong, and made a cocktail first and three bags at least. He went and inserted the syringe into the cannula and pressed the plunger to the base. 

Mariella smiled in her mind. Oh, that baby knew how to be sneaky. Mariella had gone over what Damon had said, and he had said he wouldn't give her the medicine just yet. At that moment. Damon hadn't promised that the medicine wouldn't come as soon as Mimi was asleep. He had not lied, but he had not told her about his intentions in the future. 

Mariella understood Mimi wouldn't be so eager to chop up the drugs if she didn't know she was getting it. As she said, Damon could be so damn sneaky sometimes.

Damon put a feeding tube in for Mimi and into it a visceral suspension fortified with his own blood and nutrient concentrates. Then Mariella watched as Damon took a liter bag of something white from one cupboard. He went over to Mimi and spread her legs, took his time, and inserted some tubing deep inside Mimi and made this bag of white drip down the tubing into Mimi. it flowed peacefully inside Mimi and somehow it was very arousing as she understood what it was.

Then Mariella realized that that bag was sperm and Damon had just impregnated Mimi. She wondered if the radar would come, but as soon as Mimi woke up, Damon would be ready to continue. The radar didn't come, and even if it did, Mimi would get a male and deep. Two hours later, Mimi had a radar.

Mariella said, " Honey, Mimi has radar, and she's taken care of."

She found the idea of Damon pouring a liter of his sperm into Mimi's defenseless womb full of ova super arousing. Mimi would sleep, the anesthetic would come in a steady stream into her, and it would ensure a few days of feeding and a good rest, and then Mimi would be back in the pack to care for her puppies.