Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 201 – Pancakes

A few hours later, wrapped in our coziest robes, Victor and I step out of our room.

As soon as we walk out, I can hear the noise of our boys downstairs, laughing and talking as they have their breakfast.

I clutch my robe tightly around my neck as I hear them and look up at Victor, a huge smile breaking out on my face. God, it’s good to hear them laugh.

Victor returns my look and takes my hand. Then slowly, carefully, we walk down the hall and head down the stairs.

As soon as they hear the creek of our footsteps on the stairs, we hear everyone go silent.

I’m ahead of Victor, so they see my feet first, staying silent. Then, as soon as they see Victor’s slipper appear on the step above mine, we hear a collective gasp.

Victor and I look at each other at that and can’t help but burst into laughter.

“Mama!” Alvin shouts, running to the clutch the banister at the bottom of the stairs.

“Papa!” Ian screeches, right after him, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and banging into the wall at the bottom. “You’re better!”

They start up the stairs towards us but Victor puts out a hand –

“Wait, wait,” Victor says, his voice soft. “We’re not totally better yet, okay? Go easy on us.”

“Come and take our hands,” I say to them, smiling at my boys at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take my eyes off of them. So precious to me, these two little things.

Grinning at us, Alvin and Ian obediently come gently up the stairs. Alvin takes my hand, helping me balance, my little gentleman. Ian goes up a step beyond me, helping his dad by letting Victor put a hand on his shoulder.

When we get down into the kitchen, I tear my eyes away from my boys to look at Rafe, who is sitting at the table, pale as a ghost.

Burton stands behind him, a spatula in his hand, the pan he was using to cook beginning to smoke lightly on the stove behind him.

moving to the pan.

himself, spinning and running to the pan to

stop looking at

his gaze following us as Ian and Alvin lead us to seats

Rafe as Victor and I sit down. I don’t wanting to have this conversation in front of my sons.

to help. “The newspaper,” I say, giving them a big excited grin. “Do you

“Pleasssseeee, babies?” I say, clutching my hands below my chin. “Just go

to the front door, slipping on their boots and

me curiously.

at Rafe. “But. I don’t want them to know how bad

agreeing, and then he looks at

you were on death’s doorstep. I really didn’t think that you were going to make it through the night. And

responds, looking up at Burton as he brings

laugh and running a hand over his amazed face, as if he might be seeing a mirage. “But, you know, not dead. Or anywhere near it. What the hell

it,” Victor says, smiling at me tenderly, taking my hand. I feel a tingle

what,” Rafe says, starting

And really – I’m not trying to be

of the details, of course – my memories of going to that place, somewhere in my mind but also somewhere beyond it. Of what it looked like there, of what we did, of how we…made the exchange. But…I suppose that some things I want to

So, I improvise.

him through the night, and whatever it was that

believe me and I give him a little shrug. He doesn’t

experience that defies belief. Any attempt to

let go and walk away,”

smirking at his brother and raising his glass of orange juice to his lips. I watch him drink, thrilled to see it. He hasn’t had anything except water and broth for days. God, it is such a relief to see

one, feel as if I could

my shoulder with a stack of pancakes. “Madame,” he says gently, placing them in front

looking up at him, my eyes still