Accepting My Twin Mates Chapter 103

CHAPTER 100 – WON’T YOU PLAY?

~~~~~

This would be taking place roughly around the time when the twins would be setting off to ‘dysfunction around France’.

~~~~~

Evgeniya

“Are you sure you’ve never played this before, dad?” I wiped away the filled grid drawn in dry-erase ink from the glass and penned out another.

“No, your mother never taught this game,” a small yet easy smile spread under his much thicker beard. “She used to play spy in eye to help my English.”

My laugh echoed between us. “I spy,” I helped correct him. “But I think we’ll stick to tic tac toe. There’s only so much we can spy in here.”

‘Unless one of those fuckwit guards passes by,’ Evva yawned and stretched, bored out of her mind. ‘There’s at least twenty things there and all of them swears.’

As I looped a circle to make my first move, she bellowed a huge and overly dramatic groan. ‘Can you play anything else? It’s been three hours!’

‘You wanna go back to hangman?’ I asked sarcastically, knowing it would shut her up.

‘If you go near that game again, I will force a shift and gnaw my leg off.’

‘That’s what I thought, so drop the attitude.’

It wasn’t entirely her fault she was being so snippy. Two months sealed away in my mind was getting to her, creating an increasingly cantankerous wolf. Her spirit buzzed under the surface of my skin needing release and in a few more months, when my belly would begin to show, our pup would be too big to safely cope with the physical stresses of a shift. If she thought a couple of months were going to be tough, how would she cope with half a year?

“Pravyy nizhniy ugol,” my dad said slowly, enunciating his syllables and pitch, telling me in Russian where he wanted his ‘X’ placed.

Small moments, like these, over the last few months, we had taken to teaching the other. I helped my father with reading English and he taught me some Russian.

“Bottom right corner?” Diego beat me to it, stealing my thunder.

father praised. “Molodets,

a pretty

finely chiselled muscles, bruises and tattoos, tía (girl),” he flexed his bare-chested physique playfully, preening like a peacock. “There’s

at him, writing the ‘X’ in the grid and placing my ‘O’

question at

the first time in a long while, his eyes held a twinkle of genuine amusement. The dark circles looked

smile… you look

cheeks heated at the compliment. Just as my father looked a little lighter, something within me felt the same too. Perhaps it was the serene quiet that we were experiencing, coupled with our little game, that had given us a brief sensation of normality. I had been trying to distract my father since he had woken from the after-effects of whatever foul tranquilliser they used and

the day. This morning, I had felt somewhat back to normal; sweaty, aching and nauseous. And in the last few hours, the inner strain on my bond had eased somewhat, tugging away still, but not as painfully. I put it down to the bond with

two more moves of tic tac toe,

thought going first would win

his dad-tone filled with wisdom.

to sleep from being seated on the hard wooden floor. I shuffled back to my bed by the wall, the only spot in my cell that had a blind spot from the CCTV camera

father had returned. Both my dad and Diego

was overdue. As if on cue, the sound of boots approached, followed by Diego’s curses in Spanish and finishing with my father’s growls and the swish of the glass cell door opening. It was an all

by now. I was only glad that it coincided with a day I would have no

I mouthed silently to

knew he would worry regardless, but it made me feel better, like a

usual route. The only route I didn’t know yet

voice greeted me from the

illuminated only by the long candles lit on the formally set table and the fire

me as I reluctantly sat. I wished he would take the furthest seat, but I knew he

as always,” he snatched my hand, holding it fast against my pull

long as Pepé Le Pew’s lips don’t wander anywhere

my tongue until the bitter taste of iron saturated my taste buds, beating down

carved up slices of the roasted meat, sliding them onto my plate. Next, he spooned the vegetables on, making a

smile for me, ma chérie?” He tilted his glass, filling it

of cauliflower and shoved it in my mouth. These were my tiny acts of rebellion, the only things I could control. And so goddess help me, there was nothing he could do to force a smile on my face or engage me

the cameras,” a cruel smirk twisted his lips as he sat back in his chair casually, making

watched, yet ripples of agitation wound around my neck as though a band had been clamped around it, squeezing on my airways. My stomach lurched again in a motion I was all too familiar with, from either eating too

his glass, pouring

dome nearer the edge of the table, something that looked akin to a brownie. The rich chocolatey scent hit

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255