Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 221 – A Feast

“Oh my god,” I moan, letting my head fall back against the wooden chair as I slowly chew the last bite of the muffin that I’ve crammed into my mouth. “It is so delicious. I can’t stand it.”

“Yeah!” I hear Alvin agree, even though my eyes are pressed shut. “Way better than a stinking granola bar.”

I groan, putting my hands on my swollen stomach, not knowing if I’d be able take another bite. Maybe ever again. Am I so full that I’ve made future hunger impossible?

“Ohhh, mama!” Alvin calls, and I open one eye, peaking at him as he uncovers a dish of chocolate croissants. “We didn’t see these! They’re still warm.”

And then, suddenly, I find room in my stomach.

“Hand me one,” I say, putting a hand out to my kid.

“Come and get it!” he teases, holding it up in the air just out of my reach.

I laugh, pretending to snatch in the air for it. Then I groan and let my hand drop. “No, baby, I can’t. I’m too weak and fat now. You’ll have to roll me to get closer to any food.”

Alvin laughs and gives in, hopping down from his stool and bringing the croissant closer to me. “Here, mama, I will hold it,” he says, bringing it close to my face. I quickly snatch a bite before he can yank it away. My baby laughs and then takes a bite of it himself, closing his eyes to savor the delicious mix of flaky butter pastry and not-too-sweet chocolate.

I smile, watching my boy chew, wondering how I got so lucky as to have this moment with him. I do my best to savor it, this strange magical instant out in the woods, eating pastry with my son. I know that the forest has more in store for us – more trials, more depth. But in this moment, I’m grateful.

Alvin finishes chewing his piece of pastry and surprises me by coming to stand close by my side. He holds the croissant close to his chest, not caring about the crumbs he gets on his shirt, and leans his little head on my shoulder.

“What is it, baby?” I ask, my voice gentle. It’s not like my cheerful boy to seek comfort in moments like this. But, full and safe for the moment in this magical place, perhaps he is able to explore the things that have been troubling his little mind.

“Mama,” he says thoughtfully. “If me and Ian are twins, and are all the same…then why is he good at some things? And not me?”

I frown, pulling him around so that he stands between my knees and I can look in his face. “What do you mean, Alvin?” I ask. “You are both so good at everything. What is Ian good at that you are not?”

murmurs. “Ian is…braver than me. And better with people. And he is so good at talking to dad about military stuff – like how to make a war, and how to plan things. And I’m okay at that too, but I’m not…I’m

eyes. “But if we’re twins,” he continues. “Why aren’t we

you’re twins doesn’t mean you’re the same. I love that your brother and you have for so long been two peas in a pod, but you’re growing up to be different people, and

down, not encouraged

giving him an heartening little squeeze. “You can do

looks up at me, surprised.

knowing just how people are feeling, while I think Ian struggles with that a little bit more. And…” I lean in, like I’m telling him a very big

go wide with excitement and he

say, pointing a finger at the center of his chest. “Are the ultimate sneaky squirrel. Much sneakier than your brother. I

face warms my heart. I’m sorry to

still bothering you?” I

Ian wants to be a soldier when he grows up.

pulling him up

I

to be a good Alpha. Besides, you are going to run the pack with your

this idea

your daddy about it,” I say quietly, sniffing his hair and giving him a little kiss on his head. “He’ll be

at me. “And what do you want to be, mama?” he asks, curious. “When you grow

him, charmed. “Am I not already

his hands on

a therapist!” I say, continuing to laugh and

now,” Alvin explains. “But do

wondering at his question myself.