Accepting My Twin Mates by Unwise Owl

Chapter 103

Accepting My Twin Mates Chapter 103

CHAPTER 100 – WON’T YOU PLAY?

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

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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.

my father praised.

just a pretty face,

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

gilipollas?” I raised a brow at him, writing the ‘X’ in the grid and placing my ‘O’ in the opposing

in question at my father as he stared at

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

you look like your mother

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 exhaustion of his match. I needed the distraction from my any-time-of-day sickness

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 my pup, blanketing my troubles for a reprieve. My little

more moves of tic tac toe, my

first would win

he said in his dad-tone filled with wisdom. “You thought you

clean and tossed the pen to the side. Like my wolf, my eyes were beginning to bleed after several consecutive hours of gameplay. That, and my ass had long since fallen 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 outside. After all the trekking back and forth from my cell to

cells were presently empty. Inmates were either taking their recess time outside or were attending their fights. In Bastiaan’s case, it was the latter. He had been gone since my father had returned. Both my dad and Diego were

I was overdue. As if on cue, the sound of boots approached, followed by

it coincided with a day I would have no audience to have to parade

I mouthed silently to my

know why I did it each time because I knew he would worry regardless, but it made me

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

greeted me from the table nestled in front of

long candles lit on the formally set table and the fire crackling away behind. A large

I wished he would take the furthest seat,

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

Le Pew’s lips don’t wander anywhere

taste of iron saturated my taste buds, beating down every impulse I had to cram the man’s dinner

part of his sick game of control, and carved up slices of the roasted meat, sliding them onto my plate. Next, he spooned the vegetables on, making a

me, ma chérie?” He tilted his glass,

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

smirk twisted his lips as he sat back in his chair casually, making a clean slice into

me that I was watched, yet ripples of agitation wound around my neck as though a band

eat,” he drained his glass, pouring a second immediately. “Care for

a brownie. The rich chocolatey scent hit me, too rich, too overbearing, too sickly.

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