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.

pretty face,

finely chiselled muscles, bruises and tattoos, tía (girl),” he flexed his bare-chested physique playfully, preening like a

sharp mind present when you’re calling the guards gilipollas?” I raised a brow at him, writing the ‘X’ in the grid and placing my ‘O’ in

I tilted my head in question at my father as he stared at

eyes held a twinkle of genuine

look like

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

on my bond had eased somewhat, tugging away still, but not as painfully. I put it down to the bond

two more moves of tic tac toe,

thought going first would win it

win,” he said in his dad-tone filled with wisdom. “You thought you had

spot in my cell that had a blind spot from the

fights. In Bastiaan’s case, it was the latter. He had been gone since my father had returned. Both my dad and Diego were on a day of rest,

sun were vanishing at speed. I hadn’t been summoned for a dinner in two days and I 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

I was only glad that it coincided with

I mouthed

because I knew he would worry regardless, but it made me feel better, like a lie to myself that everything would be

usual route. The only route I didn’t

chérie,” Marceau’s slimy voice greeted me from the table nestled in front of the

and the fire crackling away behind. A large roasted chunk of meat from wild boar steamed from the centre, surrounded by bowls

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

exquisite, as always,” he snatched my hand, holding it fast against my pull of resistance from his

Pew’s lips don’t wander anywhere else,’ Evva

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

chuckled at my silent attack of anger, all 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

chérie?” He tilted his glass, filling it with a pale

deepening as I stabbed a piece 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

as he sat back in his chair casually, making a clean slice

be over. It in no way surprised me that I was watched, yet ripples of agitation wound around my neck as though a

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

the dome nearer the edge of the table, something that looked akin to a brownie. The rich chocolatey scent hit me, too rich, too overbearing, too sickly. My insides churned and the food I had just demolished threatened to pay

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