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,

just a pretty face,

tía (girl),” he flexed his

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

question at my father

a twinkle of genuine

smile… you look like

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

a 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 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 winkle was growing

tac toe, my dad

I thought going first would win

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

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

it was the latter. He had been gone since my father had returned. Both my dad and Diego were on a day of rest, to prepare for a large match tomorrow. It had to be an important one because the two

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 the swish of the glass cell door opening. It was

I was only glad that it coincided with a day I would

be fine,” I mouthed

he would worry regardless, but it made me feel better, like a lie to myself

I didn’t know yet was the one that

me from the table nestled

the room were switched off, the darkness illuminated only by the long candles lit on the formally set table and the fire crackling

wished he would take the furthest seat, but I knew he wouldn’t.

my hand, holding it fast

Pepé Le Pew’s lips don’t wander anywhere else,’ Evva snarled

taste of iron saturated my taste buds, beating down every impulse I

at my silent attack of anger, all part of his sick game of control, and carved up slices of the roasted meat,

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

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

sat back in his chair casually, making

the sooner I finished, the sooner all of this would be over. It in no way surprised me that I was watched, yet ripples of agitation wound around my neck as

eat,” he drained his glass, pouring

brownie. The rich chocolatey scent hit me, too rich, too overbearing, too sickly. My insides churned and the food I had just

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