Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 182 – The Trump Card

Inside the house, Ian, Emma, and Delia jump when they hear the sound of the bombs.

Mrs. Walsh just sits still. It’s a sound she’s heard before, one she was expecting.

“Wha-” Ian says, his mouth open and his head turned towards the windows, wishing, desperately, that he could see out. “What was that?”

“Bombs, darling,” Mrs. Walsh says from her spot in her armchair by the unlit fire, her head resting back against the fabric, exhausted. “That is the sound of the battle beginning.”

Ian grimaces and Emma knows that he wishes, above all, that he could be there. Ian is a boy who needs to be in on the action – he will be absolutely restless until he feels that he’s at the center of it all, helping his side.

Keeping him here, safe and sound, is torture for him.

“Mom,” Emma says softly, turning her face to her mother, trying again. “This can’t seriously be what you want for your pack, for its future.”

Mrs. Walsh turns her face away, as she did before.

They had tried, earlier, to persuade her. To convince her that a pack with Emma and Evelyn at the head, instead of John and Joyce, would be the better choice for everyone. But she had simply sat down in that chair and not responded – not at all – to anything that Emma had to say.

Delia hadn’t said anything, had merely sat quietly on the sofa. She knows that it’s not her fight. Eventually, Emma had given up and went to sit with Delia. They had sat in silence until the sound of the bombs started.

Ian surprises them all, though, by going to sit in his grandmother’s lap.

She welcomes him there, wrapping her arms around him as he curls up with his head against her chest. She rests her chin on his head.

“Grandmama,” he says softly. “Why does my grandfather hate my dad so much? Why does he want to kill him?”

Her face goes pale at that and she looks down at her grandson. He’s clever enough, she knows, to realize that the two forces going at each other outside are, indeed, his father and his grandfather. So she can’t lie to him to make it any better.

softly. “I don’t think he wants to kill

to take away the control?” Ian

if Victor is the one to come to the property, Walsh started

combined anyway. This all seems…” Ian

very soft. “If people are going to get hurt, even die. When these packs are going to unite anyway,

at

stroking his hair in the

as he sees that his plan has worked. The final dregs of the wolfsbane smarts against his skin and his eyes as he blinks, surveying the damage done to his enemies. But his scientists had been perfect in

majority of Walsh and Willard’s forward forces lay writhing on the ground, screaming, their hands going to their faces, their eyes, their backs arching

– he doesn’t enjoy it, of course – but he wipes it away, knowing that the men will be grateful,

have fallen, writhing in agony themselves – likely those who hadn’t

of the battle has turned now. With the majority of Walsh and Willard’s forces out for the count, the numbers

situation, Victor opens his mouth and shouts, commanding his

forward, picking up speed again

Victor’s army and the enemies. His Betas have been ordered to take care – to go for a wound at every opportunity, instead of a kill. To press the advantage, but to be aware that they’re fighting amongst men who

even machine guns to accurately shoot, and Walsh’s uninjured forces

eyes scan Walsh’s encampment, knowing that Walsh is no fool. That he’s not going to just let Victor dash in and

just inside the chain-link fence surrounding a watch tower. Betas

manning a watchtower when his army is rushing forward towards them in plain sight

the steps of the watchtower, Victor notes a flash of blue

s**t.

suddenly, that Walsh is going to

then the sharp piercing noise of an amplifier being attached to a microphone. Several of Victor’s Betas wince but they

booms from a gigantic speaker that swings to the front of the watch tower. Victor