Accepting My Twin Mates by Unwise Owl

Accepting My Twin Mates Chapter 91

CHAPTER 88 – AN INSTINCT OR A GUESS?

Evgeniya

I had been so engrossed in Bastiaan’s words, I hadn’t seen my father moving at all, let alone attempt to stand.

“Dad!” I shot up, shaking out the cramp in my legs “Are you ok? How’s your heart? Does anywhere hu-oooh my goddess!”

I slapped a hand over my eyes too late as my father stood, seeing him naked far more times than I ever wanted.

I heard him grunt in exertion and a flip of fabric. When I tentatively peered through my fingers, he had wrapped a bedsheet about his waist and fisted it at the hip. The only visible black marks on his skin were his tattoos. The dark tendrils that had spread on his right side where he was shot with wolfsbane had faded and vanished, but an angry red mark remained, burning vibrantly like a hornet’s sting.

“Solnyshko, I am fine,” his tight smile, thin voice and distended vein on his neck from effort suggested he wasn’t entirely truthful.

He placed his palm on his glass prison for as long as he could and I mirrored him, the silver thread within the plate hot against the pad of my hand. A tear betrayed me, slipping down my cheek faster than I could wipe away. I prided myself on self-reliance, never needing anyone. How I felt currently, I would give anything to break this damn glass apart to have the embrace of my father.

“The name you speak?” His head turned in Bastiaan’s direction, his hand dropping to his side. “You say, Galina, yes?”

“Sir,” the vampire rose to his feet, crossing the length of his cell. “Your daughter has been most worried for you, perhaps you should-”

“I said give me name!” My father lost his patience, silencing the atmosphere with his thunder and a fist to the wall.

Diego, who had remained with his back to the glass this whole time, slowly spun his neck in the direction of my father, an equally mixed expression of impressed and intimidated crossing his face.

“Uh, yes, Galina,” Bastiaan’s throat bobbed and he unconsciously backed up a step. “And from your rather distinct tone that mirrors hers, you are a relation?”

“My older sister… she was here?”

That was it! When he told me of his pack, he spoke of an older sister, Galina… my aunt.

“Your name is Konstantin, isn’t it? She spoke of you often,” Bastiaan’s gaze switched between me and the wall that separated him and my father. “…You’re lycans.”

“Lycans?! ¡Ay diosa mío, hostia! (Oh my goddess, bloody hell!) I thought you were pulling my leg, Bastiaan!” Diego attempted to stand so quickly, he nearly tripped over his own feet. “Ok, you need to tell us your story, you’ve heard ours. Except for your poor padre (father). He was too passed out.”

“I thought I was only survivor…” my father mumbled, his gaze drifting downwards.

“That is what she thought also. Sometimes, when she was a little more lucid, she spoke of almost feeling family. But, she wasn’t sure if it was real or wishful thinking.”

“Dad, didn’t you say something similar?” I recalled what he said. As fast as he would sense her, the bond would fade. “Marceau mentioned in his little villain speech about the lycan she-wolf here being on ‘loan’. She was only here to see how she fared in a fight. Maybe she’s still alive somewhere?”

“Do you truly sense your bond with her, Konstantin?” A small bloom of hope lit up the vampire’s features, so pure it was painful.

my father struggled for the right

I filled in his

yes. She could

like through marriage sort of thing?” I connected the dots of how

be the only family I have left, I think I would like that position,”

operated was

know how the f**k, lycans are here!” Diego drew our attention with

If this man wasn’t Catalina’s mate, I would be floored. “I didn’t even know I was a lycan. Despite looking like a giant, I thought I was a wolfless Omega. Until one morning, I hear a

knew, starting from running away

danger too. They’ll never suspect their father of doing this, they love him too much. They have their differences, but to

a low curse. “No wonder you weren’t surprised by what my padre did. s**t, what your Alpha

words for him,” Bastiaan glowered, his eyes pulsating a molten gold, despite the

who’s vulgar?” Diego

I even wanna know

and I think you understand the translation,” he

clenched. I gripped my abdomen as a cramp once again crept into my womb, feeling like some strange middle ground of an ache and nausea. I steadied myself on the glass in case my legs gave into gravity. Nothing felt abnormal, the tiny bond was a whisper yet strong as ever. This wonderful

father’s strong voice laced with worry

my head a fraction too quickly, spinning my surroundings harshly in a

he would understand the signal. My words couldn’t be said aloud; the expectancy growing in my uterus needed to be kept a secret for as long as it could be concealed. His life would be another pawn used against my father

His life…?

my innocuous slip and my belly fluttered with the tiny

this an instinct

little man,’ Evva preened,

continent that separated us? There was no perceptible tell pulling me to which twin our son belonged. Would they be able to tell, or would

The same guard as before, sporting the bruise given by curtsy from Diego, stopped between mine and my father’s cells. He raised a brow at my hunched-over frame, supported upon the glass. Straightening my spine and backing away, I gritted my teeth in counter to the dull ache dissipating. The last

and stoic gaze, he moved past our cells to enter somewhere on the right of my field of vision. All I could see was a solid sleek navy wall that matched the three surrounding me. There were no cells beyond. My father watched him like a hawk where he stood opposite with a clear view. From the glints of reflection on his

two flat drooping parcels of black. The narrow grid I thought was fixed opened and in slid the folded wad of black fabric; one for me, one for

was gone, I hesitantly picked it up, unfolding it to reveal similar attire that Bastiaan and Diego wore; a black long-sleeved

sterile-smelling fabric. ‘Because we weren’t enough of

it up taking in the size that was clearly made for a man. ‘For all these guards know, our pregnancy scent is our

I felt

once in the twenty years I’ve been here,” Bastiaan answered. “Their faces change but they

guard now carried two trays. Using the metal grid of the door as a shelf, he didn’t wait

shape of a loaf and a questionable slop that could be

demanded, glowering down at

the insistence, sliding the tray through

even let go and sent its contents flying across the corridor.

rapid and snarled through anger for me to discern where one ended and another began. And he said that my inability to hold my