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.

vspyshka…” my father struggled for the right English

flicker?” I filled in his

She

thing?” I connected the dots of how destiny had led me to be

may be the only family I have left, I

operated was

but I would like to know how the f**k, lycans are here!”

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

we knew, starting from running away from my mates and finishing with being sold by said mates’

don’t know if 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.

surprised by what my

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

who’s vulgar?” Diego chuckled

even wanna know what

understand the translation,” he grinned in wicked humour,

laughter, my lower stomach rolled and 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

voice laced with worry drew up my gaze. “You

quickly, spinning my surroundings harshly

I hoped 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

His life…?

slip and my belly fluttered with the tiny bond, a pleasant tingle tightening my heart. A

instinct

he’s our little man,’ Evva preened, wanting to nuzzle into our little life’s tether that connected

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

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

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

parcels of black. The narrow grid I thought was fixed opened and in slid the folded

unfolding it to reveal similar attire that Bastiaan and Diego wore; a black long-sleeved t-shirt and thin joggers, gathered

joy,’ Evva wrinkled her nose at the sterile-smelling fabric. ‘Because

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,

though I felt thoroughly gross in the dress I still wore

once in the twenty years I’ve been here,” Bastiaan answered. “Their faces change but they are always silent. They communicate only via mind-link with each other, it

the door as a shelf, he didn’t wait to see if I

expecting an unidentifiable meat in the shape of a loaf and a questionable slop that could be grits, oatmeal or a predigested vomit, not a restaurant-quality

demanded,

man completely ignored the insistence, sliding the tray through

had even let go and

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