Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 248 – Spies in the Bushes

Victor wakes the next morning with Evelyn curled in his arms, her head tucked neatly under his chin. He pulls her more tightly against him, lowering his face to get a good sniff of her still-damp hair, closing his eyes as he does. His mate gives a little mew of contentment in her sleep that makes his heart swell.

God damn it, how did he ever get this lucky.

Usually, the last thing he’d want to do is get out of bed when his mate is wrapped soft and warm in his arms. But today is…special. Or at least, he intended it to be. Doing his very best not to wake her – Evelyn being asleep was actually a pretty big part of the plan – Victor slowly moves his body away from hers, his mouth pulled into a grimace as he silently prays that she doesn’t wake up.

He gets lucky. A few moments later his feet are firmly on the ground and he’s able to silently stand, tucking her in beneath the blankets so that she stays warm, a pillow tucked beneath her arm to replace his body. Victor takes a moment to watch her sleep, a small smile on his mouth, but then his excitement propels him to move.

Quietly, he bends down to open the drawer of his bedside table, reaching to the back to take out a little velvet box that’s been there for months. It was risky, he guessed, to leave it in so obvious a spot but…well, Evelyn never looked in his bedside drawer. The only other thing in there was a couple of mints.

Victor slips the box into his pocket, glancing at Evelyn’s still-sleeping face as he tiptoes to the door, eager to get started on his day. He slips out, pulling it shut quietly behind him, and moving to the boys’ bedroom door, eager to wake him.

He stops in his tracks, though, at the sight of the little boy sleeping at the threshold to his bedroom.

“What the…” Victor mumbles, frowning down at Ian, who sleeps with his mouth slightly open, a little line of drool falling from it. He’s stretched his full length out across the entrance to his bedroom with a blanket pulled over him and a pillow from the couch tucked under his head. In hands he clutches a toy bow and arrow, which rests neatly against his softly-rising chest. Baffled, Victor kneels down next to his son and gives his shoulder a little shake.

Ian gives an unhappy little moan and frowns, turning away, but Victor persists, shaking again. When Ian’s eyes flutter open, he slowly smiles at Victor.

“Hey dad,” he says, raising a hand to rub scratch his head, acting like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Ian,” Victor asks, “what are you doing out here?”

“Guarding the door,” Ian says like it’s obvious, blinking up at him. Then he raises the bow and arrow so that Victor can see it more clearly. “So nobody can get in to disturb Aunt Bridgette while she sleeps.”

Victor has to bite his lip, hard, to keep from laughing. “Well,” he says seriously after the moment he needs to pull himself together. “That is very chivalrous of you.”

sitting up. “I am

tip from his son’s hands, “that this was really going to stop your Uncle Rafe, if he

raises his eyebrow. “Who said I was

the same eyebrow, his face a mirror

chin. “But Alvin said mommy said that Uncle Rafe was

his laughter now, but Ian smiles too as his dad stands up and puts out a hand, beckoning him to follow. “It was very nice of you to do, Ian,” Victor says, looking warmly down at

slept great, though!” Ian says, beaming up at his dad as they reach

to start brewing. As he goes, he glances into the living room and can’t keep himself from laughing again when he sees Rafe curled up on the couch and Alvin sleeping on the easy chair positioned across from him,

up to explore the cereal cabinet. “We

Alphas,” Victor confirms, putting a filter in the machine and starting to load it with coffee. “Listen, kid,” he begins, “I’m going to need your

a loud yawn from the living room. Victor turns to see Alvin

Princess was a success, Ian!” Alvin calls out

down from the counter with a box of

noise, sitting up on the couch and looking around. “Why

and Rafe winces, frowning when the

been waiting to do that all

Rafe murmurs, sitting up on the couch. “You have no taste for mercy, even when

machine and setting it to brew. Then he leans against the table, crossing his arms and looking

sitting up. “I am a

“It was…” he hesitates, glancing between

moving to the couch and curling up next to Rafe, who puts a begrudging arm around the nephew who just shot him. “You can tell dad.

asks, frowning down

listened,” Ian says, carrying two bowls of cereal into the living room and handing one to his brother, who gives him a thankful

Rafe repeats, looking between the two of