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

filled in

yes. She could be

you’re kinda my uncle, like through marriage sort of thing?” I connected the dots of how destiny had led me to be in an opposite

is a somewhat stretch, but since you may be the only family I have left, I think I would like that position,” he smiled at

operated

sweet family reunion, but I would like to know how the f**k, lycans

mate, I would be floored. “I didn’t even know I was a lycan. Despite

them everything we knew, starting from running away

anyone else was in on it, or if my mates are in danger too. They’ll never suspect their father of doing this, they love him too much. They have their differences, but to them, Isaac’s only ever been a loving father. Astennu and Badru would never believe he’s been selling

wonder you weren’t surprised by what my padre

glowered, his eyes pulsating a

vulgar?” Diego chuckled

I even wanna know what it

think you understand the translation,” he grinned in wicked humour,

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

worry drew up my gaze.

fraction too quickly, spinning my surroundings harshly in a split

as discreetly as possible, I hoped he would understand the signal. My words couldn’t be said aloud; the expectancy growing in my uterus needed to be kept

His life…?

a halt at my innocuous slip and my belly fluttered with the tiny bond, a

instinct

little man,’ Evva preened, wanting to nuzzle into our

and 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 they even

frame, supported upon the glass. Straightening my spine and backing away, I gritted my teeth in counter to the dull ache dissipating. The last thing I needed was these people thinking something was wrong and sending me off for tests. Tests

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.

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

to reveal similar attire that Bastiaan and Diego wore; a black long-sleeved t-shirt and thin

the sterile-smelling fabric.

the shirt’s huge, it might help hide any bumps,’ I held it up taking in the size that was clearly made for a man. ‘For all these guards know, our pregnancy scent is

desire to change, even though I felt thoroughly gross in

us, not once in the twenty years I’ve been here,” Bastiaan answered. “Their faces change but they are always silent. They communicate only

the metal grid of the door as a shelf, he didn’t wait to see if I took it and

and poached eggs? With melon on the side? I was expecting an unidentifiable meat in the shape of a loaf and a questionable slop that

demanded, glowering down at the guard he

completely ignored the insistence, sliding the tray

He yelled, shoving the tray away before the guard had 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 tongue came from my mother. I wasn’t so sure it