Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 235 – The Forest’s Parting Gift

We get to work, then, all of us. The boys gather firewood while I check our supplies in the tent. They went untouched by wildlife by some continued magic with which the forest blessed us. I gather some dried meats and granola bars to supplement the forest’s gifts and head back to the fire circle where Victor is coaxing a tentative flame to life.

I sit down comfortably next to him, watching him work.

“After this,” I consider aloud. “I wonder if we’ll to never camp again, or if we’ll want to go camping every weekend. We’re either going to be totally burned out or obsessed.”

Victor glances at me and then towards our sons, each stumbling towards us with their arms full of dry branches. “I think with those two, we’re going to tend towards obsessed.”

“Yes, but I am the Luna now,” I say, setting my shoulders and sitting up primly. “And I may decide that I am an indoor sort of girl –“

Victor laughs, sitting back and looking towards the newly-kindled fire. “But you’re outnumbered,” he says.

I look at my boys and narrow my eyes. “Alvin can be persuaded. I can feel it. Then it will be fifty-fifty, and swing vote goes to the Luna.”

Victor gives me a grin as the boys drop the firewood next to us. “Now you’re just making up rules.”

“Yes,” I say, raising my chin. “And you must follow them all blindly, as is my Luna right.”

“I want to make up the next rule!” Alvin shouts, setting us off on a new conversational bender that turns into a game where each of us makes up a rule in turn that everyone has to follow. We’re almost collapsed in laughter a few hours later, tied up in knots between Ian’s rule that everyone has to talk like a monster and Alvin’s that everyone has to sing their sentences to the tune of their favorite pop song.

We pass a sweet evening this way, Victor and I curled against each other while our children gambol before the fire, playing and laughing and shouting at each other and us in turn. We all eat our fill from our supplies, no longer worried about making them last, and from the little forest fruit bundle which seems to continue replenishing itself no matter what we take.

I think I eat about five tiny apricots, each sweet and tangy and full of juice. “How did the forest even make these,” I murmur to Victor, biting into my sixth. “They won’t even be in season until May.”

“Maybe the forest has a magical greenhouse,” he mumbles sleepily against my hair, not really caring if he makes sense. “And the ghosts tend it as a hobby.”

I chew I think, passively, about the last time I had an apricot. It was a while ago. At one point apricots were my favorite fruit, but somehow they’ve fallen out of

was very pregnant with alpha’s genius twins, laying on my couch, munching on apricots while I watched reruns of The Nanny on my little TV. Apricots had been pretty much the only thing

apricot, pressing my other hand low

his peeking one eye open to

grateful for this final gift the forest has given us. “I just…forgot how

Victor sighs, laying down on the forest floor and putting his head in my lap. “I’ll plant you an

my hands through his hair. “We might need

a few motes of magic make themselves visible in the canopy of leaves. I don’t wake Victor to look at them, don’t notify the boys. Instead, I just smile as I watch them, pleased to keep their little dancing display to myself. Sometimes it’s nice to have a secret,

watching them, my head on Victor’s chest, my twin boys cuddled up on either side of us. And

when I wake up

life, who each blink awake next to me. “I’ve had enough of the forest. I need to go home, where there are mattresses, and indoor plumbing, and wifi. And

contentedly.

your bones are made of rubber,” I say, tickling his belly so that he giggles and curls up like a bug. “But

mama,” Alvin agrees, rubbing his eyes and looking up at

into my lap and placing a kiss on the

his eyes landing on Ian. “It’s them against us, kid,” he says, giving a little

getting to his feet. “If we’re going to go, though, let’s try to get home in time for

RV is waiting precisely where we left it. It’s a little dirtier than I remembered, but it’s certainly a familiar piece of home that fills

and suddenly Beta Stephen is standing at the entrance, his red hair messier than

he comes down the two short steps. They wrap their arms around his legs in greeting, but Stephen doesn’t take his eyes from Victor as we

hard to keep his face serious and not break into a smile. “How did

boys let Stephen go, dashing into the RV and Stephen runs a quick hand through his hair, straightening it. “Sir, how did you hold up?” He glances quickly over us and then stares back into Victor’s face. “You look amazing

blushes, realizing that he’s perhaps said too much. He clears his throat and begins again, offering a hand to Victor. “What I mean, sir, is that I’m happy to see you looking so well.”