After being released, I slept for what felt like an eternity, my body exhausted from the ordeal. The drugs that had been forced upon me lingered in my system, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Gradually, I regained consciousness, my senses awakening to the world around me. As a human once again, I felt a surge of heat and uterine horns inside me, knowing that the result of my captivity would soon be born - a litter of puppies, eager to explore the world.
Opening my eyes, I realized that time was slipping away; only six days remained before the arrival of my offspring. The rapid pace of my pregnancy indicated that I had been bred for almost half of its duration, a cruel act by the one who had victimized me. I did not want to think of his name. He had ensured my continued captivity, keeping me drugged and devoid of pleasure. Perhaps this was one of the reasons I never felt comfortable in that house, not even in the yard. I yearned to be free, to escape the clutches of my tormentors. Enough was enough; I craved solitude, a chance to forget them all.
With a sudden surge of power, I transformed into a sleek jaguar, my body now agile and strong. I sprinted into the dense forest, leaving the pack behind as they slowly faded from my thoughts. The tranquility of solitude embraced me, offering respite from the torment I had endured. Aware of my impending motherhood, I knew I had to find a secure nesting cave. As the alpha female, it was my duty during the breeding season to ensure the survival of my young. The male had done his part, fertilizing my eggs, and now it was up to me.
For miles on end, I walked and ran, searching for the perfect sheltered spot amidst the towering trees. Although it wasn't a cave, it offered enough protection for my imminent labor. I swiftly constructed a makeshift nest, allowing myself a moment to feast on whatever prey I could catch. Being a magical feline, I possessed heightened abilities, but my thoughts were consumed only by loneliness - a constant companion in my existence.
I knew my cubs would remain with me, perhaps even for a year, before venturing off on their own. Time would separate us, leaving me once again to face the world alone, as I was meant to be. Humans were my enemies, and other cats, especially males, were even worse. They would come, seeking to kill my precious offspring and impregnate me with their own seed. Nature's cruelty dictated that the male who impregnated me might not survive, and the next male who detected my scent would recognize that my cubs weren't his own, leading to their demise.
In nature, there was a rhyme and reason, a survival of the fittest. It was simply how things were, and I had no place to question or understand it. My purpose was clear - to survive, to breed, to live, to hunt, and ultimately to be alone.
It was time to give birth, and I had 350 kittens. Their tiny mews filled the air, creating a symphony of sound that resonated in my ears. I could feel their delicate bodies against my warm belly as I nursed them, their tiny mouths latching onto me with determination. The scent of milk enveloped us, a comforting aroma that reassured me I had enough to nourish them all.
As a mother, I knew the importance of protecting my kittens. I swiftly changed our nest, removing any trace of the birthing scent. The male would smell it. His presence could bring danger, as he would surely try to harm my precious offspring. Alone, I relied on my instincts to guide me, trusting that they would lead me in the right direction.
Despite the dangers lurking outside, our nest became our sanctuary. The soft purrs of my cubs filled the air, melting my heart with their sweetness. I rubbed my pheromones into their tiny bodies, creating a bond that would forever connect us. Amongst the sea of jaguars, my firstborn stood out. A snow leopard female, she emitted a faint fragrance of strawberries. I knew in my heart that she was my very first kitten, a precious gift that made my maternal instincts soar.
A week later, our numbers grew with the next litter of 200. The weather turned harsh, with autumn rains drenching the land and chilly nights creeping in. I scoured the surroundings, searching for a cave to provide shelter for my growing family. As the rain poured down, I ate voraciously, fueling myself to ensure the well-being of my cubs and pups. Among them were several species of canines, some hybrids, all bearing the scent of strawberries that marked them as mine. Pride swelled within me, knowing that they were a part of me, a part of my legacy.
Unbeknownst to me, this was the beginning of a new chapter in my life. A shift, a change that was yet to fully reveal itself. But for now, my focus was solely on being a mother to my cubs. They were my world, my everything. In the darkness of the night, I plucked strands of my own fur, layering it upon them to shield them from the biting cold. The rain continued to pour, forcing me to repeatedly wash and dry the puppies, ensuring their comfort and warmth.
And then, amidst the rain and the howling wind, an unfamiliar scent reached my nostrils. A scent that sent a shiver down my spine - the scent of a human.
Damon and Mariella had the perfect time. They would have their first offspring together, and everything would be perfect. The salvatores and Adam and Charles would take care of the wolf pups, and the two of them could focus on each other. Damon was happy. He was in love and nothing was missing in his life. Nothing at all.
Mariella gave birth to 1,250 pups, and Damon was at the top of his game. Everything was just perfect. But even so, something kept bothering him, and he couldn't get a grip on it. What wonder could it be? He went to check on the wolves. There was nothing wrong with either of them. He had no idea what it was, and he continued to care for their cubs. These were truly theirs. Mariella was the mother of about half of them. He could smell peach scent in cubs signaling that it was one of Mariella's. Most of their litter were jaguars and lions and clouded leopards as well.
Even so, despite his happiness and the smell of cubs, Damon found himself standing at the window, looking out into the woods, hoping or assuming he could see something. The weather was miserable enough that Damon considered either changing the location or keeping the pups inside longer. In that weather, the cubs wouldn't last long. Even though they were magical, that was too cold, windy, and rainy, they could not keep the bubble hard. It would be still chilly and not wonderful weather for them unless this storm passed.
I was looking for food when I smelled a human again. I was wary and knew that the human didn't taste that good and wasn't that nutritious, but in an emergency that would happen too. Humans rarely came this deep in the forest, but he had not smelled metals or guns, so he was not the hunter. Then the smell left me, and I came across an enormous pile of meat that had been left in the clearing. It was pieces of meat, fatty pieces, and it was a lot of it. I knew that soon enough other animals in the forest would come to feast, but I was on top of the food chain. The meat smelled fresh enough.
I sniffed it carefully and plowed through it. I ate myself as full as I could and returned to my pups. The older cubs were nearly two weeks old and could already eat the meat I threw up for them. At least now they got one good meal. Their survival was what mattered. They were eager to eat as I threw up meat for them. I returned to get the rest of the meat and ate it up too.
The meat was always left in the open, and after a couple of days, I didn't even care, although I could smell the human being closer now and ate as much as I could because I was about to give birth again. I'd found a den, but it was cold, and I'd had to make a pretty big nest in there to keep the kittens warm. And now there would be more. But I'll be fine. I am unkillable, though my kittens aren't.
Then the wolves made their litter, and the feeling didn't go away, no way, and now it was even more of a threat. Damon still said nothing and was grateful that Mariella didn't make a second litter. Damon was on his way to get meat for the pups when he came across a large yak carcass in the outdoor storage area.
Now he couldn't remember the whole yak, where it had come from. He wondered about it for a while and then took some deer and venison mince for the pups to take with him. Keeping the cubs perfectly safe, warm, and sheltered was wonderful. Damon grimaced as he looked outside where it was raining and the daytime temperature was only five degrees Celsius. The weather was truly awful.
Sark told Damien after he had again delivered meat to Mimi, " Why don't we just sedate her and get going? What is this taming now? "
Damien looked at Sark. Oh, that he enjoyed. He had his plan well on the way. Mimi was broken. She wanted to be feline, and it hadn't been hard for them to slip that spell in place. It was like the Pack welcomed it. They did not want to remember Mimi. Let them breed, but Mimi was the key. She was exactly where she was supposed to be, broken in her feline form and pregnant.
He said, " We need those puppies. They're Mimi and Damon's puppies. Strongest that there is. My future army. Mimi is pregnant, but we need every puppy, as you can see the weather is terrible. Luckily we have a witch as strong as Freya Michaelson doing this minor spell. Damon and no one in the pack remembers Mimi, and Mimi doesn't remember her pack. She thinks she's a cat. She is so broken that this is easier for her. As you have seen from those surveillance tapes, her life is not easy. Now I have no idea what that dagger play was with Adam, but as you saw, Damon is now her enemy. It is breaking her. I get to be a good guy here."
Sark grunted. He had too witnessed Pack's not-so-good life, and it was interesting to see this creature actually live. It gave him a deeper understanding of her. Treat her well after all that crap that pack hit her. You get her loyalty, at least when she is feline forms, and those cubs, studies he could do, how they would be his operatives, his adopted sons and daughters even.
Damien explained smugly, as he had a brilliant plan. "Now I'm the good guy. Who feeds and then saves Mimi and the kittens? I will get her to trust me, and those kittens too. They will be my army against damon and the pack, his own offspring attacking him. She will be ours, in feline form. You get finally target omega under your control fully and maybe Krycheck can do his magic in her mind too. She will soon be by your side purring and pushing you, her master after we save her and her kittens once she gets a little more desperate, then she is easy enough to tame and you might find some drug that keeps her in her feline form for now."
Sark was bored. Damien really loved to talk. Sark wanted targets. Those kittens would be perfect, and with that bitch still so damn pregnant, there would be plenty of targets. He wanted to study her, that pregnancy, those kittens, there were so many species of them. Of course, getting her tamed, infamous Target omega to his back and call was tempting. He was already thinking about what kind of enzymes those cubs would have. Oh, what a goldmine.
The cave was wet; I was wet, and my cubs were cold. I'd caught a moose and ripped its hair, brought back rabbits and their pelts, but the weather was getting colder and wetter. I could barely keep the smallest ones under me at all times, but the bigger ones would start moving and then get cold. They were so active, but this was not a good time to venture outside so much.
And I'd fetch them back into the warm, wash them, dry them, lay them against me. I had less and less time to look for food or a nesting place. I had almost plucked all the hairs off myself, and yes, this air was getting to me. Now a couple of times I'd seen a human when I was crouched down and watching me eat. It wasn't threatening. He was sitting on the rock or fallen tree, not moving but just looking.
Now it had brought an enormous pile of animal skins, which I dragged over to the puppies and made them a little better nest for a while at least. I now had three litters. Puppies and cubs had a week between them, so the oldest was three weeks, then two weeks, and the last was almost a week old. In a couple of days, a fourth crop would be on the way. I had lost a lot of weight, but I was a mother looking after her young. My cubs were, most importantly, future generations.