Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 219 – Missing

“Come on, mama,” Alvin says, tugging at my hand and leading me towards the broken-down old house.

“Alvin,” I hiss, pulling him back. “We can’t go in there – it’s a ruin –“

He frowns at me, confused. “Mama,” he says, “the forest brought us to this house. Don’t you think it wants us to go in?”

I screw up my face at him, looking around at the forest. All my anger from yesterday is gone – drained from me. The questions…well, they’re still there. I certainly want answers. But I’m starting to suspect, really, that what tipped me over into anger in the first place yesterday was the forest.

The magic of this place might be mostly invisible to me, but it’s certainly working its will in its own mysterious ways.

“I don’t know if I trust this forest anymore, Alvin,” I say, looking down at him with concern. “I mean, it just separated us from your dad and your brother. How do we know that it’s friendly?”

“Can’t you feel it, mama?” Alvin asks, giving my hand a squeeze. Then he closes his eyes and smiles, breathing deeply from his nose as if he’s refreshed. “I just know it’s good.” He opens his eyes and his smile broadens. “If you can’t feel it, then you just have to trust me.”

“But why,” I say, frowning down at him. “I mean, I trust you, but why would the magic want to separate us from your dad and Ian?”

Alvin just shrugs at me. “Maybe we needed to be separated.”

I sigh, then, and let him pull me towards the house.

The steps at the front look about ready to crack as I put my feet on the first one, but I’m surprised, in the end, when it bears my weight steadily without even a creak. Encouraged, Alvin hops up the stairs, happy and excited.

I fight my fears, then, and insist upon opening the door first, not willing to let my child be the one on the front lines.

“Hello?” I call, looking into the room. No one – and no thing – answers me.

Instead…

the air, sniffing, my

savory, with a hint of spice and sweetness. What on earth was

air as well. “Mama, it smells so good,” he says, his hand going to his stomach. We’ve been eating regularly this whole expedition, but it’s just been

to enter the house. “We can’t walk into someone’s house,”

little bit. These boys – they were getting a little two saucy for me as they approached 7. “Mama, there’s no one here – the

exclaim. I mean, soul-level connections, sharing life forces, ghosts in the forest – all that I can accept. But a magical breakfast laid out for us in the woods? Somehow, for some reason, that pushed it too far. “That’s ridiculous, Alvin

it’s all ridiculous,” he says, throwing his hands in the air. Then,

“They say to eat some breakfast,” I murmur, noting internally that we didn’t bring our backpacks with us in our dream state. It

the whole thing as we enter – it’s just a one-room cabin, but also because I’m starting to believe

in the window as we came up the steps and could have sworn I saw cobwebs, and broken furniture, and rotted wood. But now, inside? It’s cozy. The wood that lines the room is warm and rich.

And the table…

and I admit that my mouth falls open when I see it. Everything I could want

marvel, reaching out and picking up a blueberry muffin that I swear – I swear – is identical to the ones my grandmother made me when I was a little girl, and which I haven’t seen the equal of since she died. And there are pancakes, and pastries – even a

lid off of this and smiles, giving it a warm

the muffin between my hands. “That’s what you want

grabbing a bowl and a spoon from the edge of the table. “I had a craving. The magic said

warily. “I don’t know about this, Alvin,” I say. “I read a lot of mythology as a kid that said that the one thing you’re not supposed to do when you enter

the other side, you have to keep going deeper.” He picks up a cookie and holds it out to me. “Peanut butter chocolate chip,” he says, smiling at me. “Your

the cookie out of his hand, giving him a little

to ladle stew into his bowl. “What

further in,” I say, sitting down at the table and