Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 237 – What a Mess

Before me, surrounded by what looks like a dozen empty pizza boxes and at least six drained bottles of whiskey, Rafe is dead asleep on his belly, spread across my living room rug.

“Oh my god,” Alvin whispers eagerly, his hands pressed to his mouth. “Is he dead?”

“No he’s not dead,” I scold, giving my son a reproachful look as I stalk towards my mate’s brother. Inwardly, I pray that it’s not a lie. What the hell happened to this man?

Ian is next to me as I kneel down beside Rafe, putting Archie down and looking closely at Rafe’s chest face and back to make sure that he’s breathing. I give a little sigh of relief when I see that he’s not dead, just completely passed out.

“He smells terrible,” Ian whispers, wrinkling his nose. Even Archie dashes away, eager to get away from Rafe’s terrible stale whiskey breath. I study Rafe, seeing that his face is covered in several days-worth of stubble and that he has dark circles under his eyes.

“What’s wrong with him?” Alvin asks, coming to peer at him as well, looking at his uncle like he’s a in insect that’s very interesting precisely because of how gross it is.

“Uncle Rafe got into the whiskey,” I say, standing up and crossing my arms as I glare down at him. Normally I wouldn’t care if I found someone passed out on my floor after a rough night of drinking – I’d be more inclined to cover them up with a blanket and put a pillow under their head than scold them. But Rafe hasn’t precisely been in my good graces lately, has he?

“Is whiskey bad?” Alvin asks, curious, looking up at me.

“Whiskey is gross,” I reply casually.

“But daddy drinks whiskey,” Ian points out, frowning up at me from his place crouched by Rafe’s side.

“Yeah well,” I consider, tilting my head to the side. “Daddy just drinks whiskey because he thinks it makes him look manly. Secretly, he just wants a pina colada like the rest of us.”

“Hey,” Victor says from the door, frowning at me. “Do not lie to our children – whiskey is a rich and complicated…”

But he forgets what he was saying as I step aside to give him a view of his brother passed out on the floor.

“This one is yours to clean up,” I chirp, giving my mate a bright smile as I walk into the kitchen. As I go, Alvin kneels by his uncle’s side and pokes him experimentally in the cheek, fascinated when he doesn’t move at all. Victor sighs, running his hand down his face as he walks into the living room, staring at his brother.

see a little note with our names on it folded neatly on the kitchen table. I reach for it, curious, and flip

Apologies –

much. Please understand that this is not a reflection

Affectionately,

Burton

consider that I’m not surprised that Burton has left – he shouldn’t have to put up with his boss’s brother acting like an i***t. But it does make me wonder how long this went on – Burton

the living room and look to see that Victor has turned Rafe onto his back. The boys giggle as Victor lightly slaps Rafe’s cheeks, trying to get

it’s no fault but his own. Also, if Alvin and Ian learn a little lesson about what happens when you drink

name, pressing his eyes

shouts, laughing above him. “Get up! You need a

of his nephew’s voice, and then his eyes flash open. I lean against my kitchen counter, watching discreetly from

at the three of them.

back,” Victor finishes for him. “And

then he falls on his back, his face turning a little green. “Oh my god,” he murmurs,

jump on the couch,

“What the hell Rafe?” he scolds,

side to glare at his Alpha. “There was no word from you – that Beta reported that you ran out of food

his arms swell. “You had a complete meltdown? Decided to drink yourself to death? And apparently threw a…” he looks

to see Rafe take his medicine a bit. He deserves far worse

head back on the floor, clearly a little angry to be called out and

was dead, that my sons might not be? That the next logical thing to do would be to go into the woods and try to find them, to raise them so that they could inherit the pack? Or, even if you didn’t want to do that, to – I don’t know – actually make some effort to

reply and instead turns back onto his belly, his

a not-too-gentle nudge with his foot. “Well?”

loudly to Alvin. Alvin laughs gleefully back to his brother and Rafe

hands that are pressed against his thighs. “You’re right, Victor,” he says, hanging his head. “As usual, you’re right. But I never expected to be scolded by you for this, because I