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. “Molodets,

a pretty face, ay

tattoos, tía (girl),” he flexed his bare-chested physique

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

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

look like your

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 exhaustion of his match. I needed the distraction from

bizarre faint wave of anger and then similar ripples throughout 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

two more moves of tic tac toe, my

going first would

in his dad-tone filled with wisdom. “You thought you had won

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

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

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

knew the routine well by now. I was only glad that it coincided with a day

fine,” I mouthed silently

don’t know why I did it each time because I knew he would worry regardless, but it made me feel better, like a lie to myself that everything would be

route. The only route I didn’t know

me from the table nestled in front of the large open

the formally set table and the fire crackling away behind.

would take the furthest seat, but I knew he wouldn’t. He would sit himself as close as possible, knowing it would bristle me and my wolf

my hand, holding it

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

taste buds, beating down every

of his sick game of control, and carved up slices of the roasted meat,

He tilted his glass, filling

rebellion, the only things I could control. And so goddess help me, there was nothing he could do to

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

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 fast,

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

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 a

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