Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 21 – Bath Time’

Tires screech as Victor swerves into his driveway, throwing the car into park and jumping out the door almost before it stops.

“Victo-“ Amelia says, just starting to unbuckle her seatbelt. But he’s already moving around the house, heading for Evelyn’s cottage out back. Amelia slumps back in the seat, watching him go. He didn’t say a word to her the entire ride back. Instead, he made a thousand calls, shouted at Betas, ordered more security for the house. He didn’t even look at her.

f**k.

Amelia crosses her arms over her chest and stares silently out the windshield, planning her next move.

Victor bursts into my house through the back door, coming into the living room where I’m working to wrangle two sobbing boys into their pajamas. They cried the whole way home and, while I don’t blame them, my head is pounding.

“Are they okay?” Victor asks as he approaches, looking over the boys.

“They’re fine,” I say softly.

“Boys, what happened,” Victor asks, staring at the twins who lay on the carpet sobbing their little hearts out.

“Victor, I think we should –“

Ian crawls over to Victor and raises his arms, asking to be picked up, still screaming with tears. Victor complies, cradling the boy in his arms. Alvin sees this and works his way over too.

“Ian, tell me what happened, who took you?!” Victor insists, turning Ian’s head to face him while Alvin screeches, demanding without words to be picked up like his brother.

Ian doesn’t reply, just cries harder. “Boys,” Victor says, his voice deepening with command. “You must tell me what happened.”

“Victor –“ I start, but he shoots me a glare. This sends me over my tipping point. I lose my temper, raising my voice to say “Victor, they can’t right now –“

“Don’t tell me how to talk to my sons,” he growls.

the two red-faced boys from whom an endless wail sounds. “They’re so freaked out, they’re

do we do that?!” Victor snaps at me. I shove forward my hands, which are clutching two sets

to get them in pajamas, and wrapped up, and into bed. But,” I admit, lowering my arms. “I

holding Ian close to

drain, letting the tub fill slowly with water. We put the boys on the

their clothes while I run some soap into the bath to make bubbles, adding a little lavender to soothe them. I check the water temperature – a little too hot, I turn up the cold – while Victor pulls down some towels from the rack and tosses a few toys in

an song that I remember from my childhood, and haven’t heard since then. An old song, about wolves running

listen, the boys soften, their cries lessening to whimpers, their eyes drying up. Alvin brushes his tears away and stands to watch the tub fill. Ian presses his face to the porcelain basin, watching us work almost without blinking,

hands to Alvin. “Up and in,” I say softly, lifting him and sitting him gently in the water. Victor gives Ian the same

own head, but Alvin asking me quietly to use a cup to wet

liked your song, daddy,” Ian

knew he was humming. He laughs softly and says, “thank you. My grandmother used to sing it to me when I was little, and when I was scared. Do you know?” He says, beginning to rinse the suds from Ian’s hair. “When I was

says Alvin, laughing, unbelieving. Victor

with his fingers like spectacles. “You can see in the

says, nodding sagely. “But it doesn’t mean I wasn’t afraid. Sometimes we are afraid even when we

starting to leech

says, “I was scared today. But I think there was something to be scared of.”

how intensely he is focused on their answer. I can see it in him, though – fear and rage and

Frank to get cotton candy,

The two tell the story together, each picking

we turned around, and someone had hit him,

Alvin says, looking up at us. “And they smelled like her,” he

eyes narrow. “We could smell

our mouths so we couldn’t yell