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 wolf’s senses taking over. My mouth instantly begins

this house smells amazing. Warm, and savory, with a hint of spice and sweetness. What

Alvin eagerly sniffing the 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 easy, light meals. Dense, easy-to-carry things like granola bars and dehydrated foods. Nothing

say, pulling him back as he moves to enter the house. “We can’t walk into someone’s house,” I say, “just

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

But a magical breakfast laid out for us in the woods? Somehow, for some reason,

says, throwing his hands in the air. Then, he pokes me in the belly. “Trust your body. What does it

put my hand over it as well. “They say to eat some breakfast,” I murmur, noting internally that we didn’t bring our backpacks

enter – it’s just a one-room cabin, but also because I’m starting to believe my son when he tells me the magic is working its

I walk into it. I had looked 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 the table…

open when I see it. Everything I could want for breakfast, everything

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

lifts the lid off of this and smiles, giving it a

I say, an eyebrow raised, tossing the muffin

spoon from the edge of the table. “I

lot of mythology as a kid that said that the one thing you’re not supposed to do when you enter another realm is to eat the food. That you’ll be stuck there forever if

says, looking at me with eyes too wise for his six years, “maybe to get to the other side, you have to keep going deeper.” He picks up a cookie and holds it out

a little bitter smile. “Fine, you win,” I say, quickly

me as he begins to ladle stew into his bowl.

I say, sitting down at