Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

I go a little pale when I hear my mother’s words – not out of shock, but mostly out of guilt. Never, really, did I think of her sitting here alone in this house, missing him. The idea that I’ve kept him away from her for so long – and that she’s been pining for him –

Instantly, I nod, trying to keep my tears from my eyes. “I’ll tell Victor,” I say in a rush. “Immediately – we’ll have him released –“

“Don’t rush, darling,” my mother says gently. “Make sure it’s done right. Your father – he should not think that he’s won.” Slowly, she shakes her head. “I don’t want any risk or trouble for you, but if Victor can arrange it so that he can live out his final years here, with me…that would be my preference.”

I nod, understanding, unable to speak around the knot forming in my throat.

Emma leans forward, no such emotion stopping her. “Really, mom?” she asks. “Do you…do you miss him? After how he’s treated you over these years?”

“I know that it is hard for you to understand,” my mother replies, her eyes heavy with emotion. “But he is…my Alpha. We were born to and lived in a different world – perhaps a worse world. And when it is just the two of us…it is different. And yes…I miss him. I want my husband by my side – the man with whom I have lived my life. I do perhaps want things to be different…”

She looks down at the floor then, considering. “But I can handle that.” She glances back up at us then, a small smile on her face. “I’ve been managing him quietly for years, I can do it for a few more. And even if I can’t…” she smirks and glances pointedly around the room, “at least I’ve got lots of lamps at my disposal.”

A little laugh bursts from me then as I stare at my gentle mother, hardly able to believe what she just said.

“What?” she says, straightening her shoulders and grinning at both of us. “You think you’re the only tough women in the group? Who do you think raised you?”

I can’t help myself, then – I dash across the room and into my mother’s arms, curling up in her lap a little bit and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you, mom,” I murmur, holding her close.

“I love you too, darling. Thank you for coming back into my life. For introducing me to your boys.”

“We won’t leave again,” I promise, happy tears streaking down my cheeks. My mother holds me close, sniffing my hair and giving a little hmm of interest.

After a pleasant afternoon, Emma helps me pack my boys into the back seat of my car. When they’re safely shut away, we both wave to our mother, and then she turns to me. I meet her steady gaze, ready to hear what she has to say. It hasn’t escaped my attention that even though my mother gave me her answer, Emma has not.

tell by her steely demeanor that she’s ready now, even if she

earlier?” my sister asks, “when you said what happens to

Whatever you

Victor’s politics?” she asks, turning her

nod again. “The politics don’t matter as much as you do, Emma. We want to do what is right by you. If it’s right with you, then it’s right

the sun’s golden rays as they glint

to me,

voice low and steady. “If it’s up to me, then let him rot. Because that’s what he would have left me to do, had I been forced to stay in that

sharply to my sister, letting

begins,” she says softly, taking a

walks away from me, over to her own car. But as she goes, I see her straighten her shoulders and lift

My sister is finally getting justice. And I’m

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word, rather wrung out from all of the emotions that I’ve been feeling. I glance at them often in the

past few years. I would die – absolutely die of grief – if either of them ever spent six years not talking to me. If they had children and didn’t tell me about

father from which I couldn’t protect them, who

thought of how my family has been pulled

it’s that I didn’t want them to have

my car in park and open my door, I’m suddenly again so, so grateful that Victor isn’t the man I thought he was. And so, so guilty that I kept him away from his

quietly, perhaps waiting for us. But as soon as I turn towards him, and Victor sees my face, he’s on his feet and heading down the

the house, perhaps intuiting that we need a moment alone, and I throw myself into Victor’s arms, letting myself cry into the

holding me close. “Are

into his

“Who?” he asks, confused.

“The babies! Alvin! Ian!”