“Why not have her on call?” Victor replies, leaning down and giving me a kiss on the forehead. “You spent your last pregnancy at free clinics and eating from the day-old selections available at the gas station. We’re doing this one right.”

I laugh a little, taking his hand. “Actually, one of those gas station egg salad sandwiches sounds good right now…maybe that was less poverty and more a pregnancy craving…”

“Um,” the doctor says, laughing a little, “I’m going to suggest that you…avoid food poisoning, Evelyn, for the next eight months.” I laugh with her and she heads out of the room, assuring me that she’ll be back in a couple of weeks for my next check-up.

Then, once she’s closed the door behind her, Victor nearly leaps on me, wrapping me tight in his arms and rolling me around on the bed, laughing with his happiness. I shriek, laughing as well, enjoying the nearness of his body, the press of his weight against mine.

“Crap,” he murmurs when he realizes that his weight is almost fully pressed on me, “I’m going to squish the babies –“ Quickly, he shifts his body, eager to lighten the load, but I stop him, wanting to feel him there.

“No, stay,” I murmur, smiling up at him, sliding a hand down the length of his flank. “It feels nice. The babies are too small to smush.”

We stay like that, then, breathing softly, for a long moment. I close my eyes, resting, entwining my legs with his and thinking about all of the next steps ahead of us. But I open my eyes again when I hear him speak.

“Thank you, Evelyn,” he says quietly, looking down at me. “This is…the most amazing gift. I couldn’t imagine anything better.”

“You don’t want boys?” I ask, curious. “Two more magical little Alpha babies who look just like you?”

He thinks about it for a moment and then shakes his head. “No, I want two of you this time,” he murmurs. “But we can name them after me, so they know which parent is their favorite. Victoria and…Vikki.”

“That’s the same name!”

“Fine, Viclinda –“

not even

laughs, falling on his side, grinning at me. “Well, whatever, it’s my choice,

I spit out, appalled. “Says

door, to where Alvin and Ian are somewhere in

way!” I protest. “I refuse! I will run away again – go have the babies in private and come back once their birth certificates

me like I’m in a vice, perhaps trying to demonstrate

them back,” he muses. “That’s just paperwork. Say

you dare –“ I hiss, pushing against him, unable to stop the giggles

we are,” he whispers, wicked, “whichever one is

I shriek, but Victor silences me with a kiss, his lips warm and laughing, and I kiss him back, knowing that despite

and I know in my heart that all he

way little Viclinda Helga Kensington-Ortega is going to be happy with

we’ll just have to spend a couple of months thinking of something

_________________

downstairs about an hour later after a long shower. I’ve decided to take the doctor’s low-stress orders to heart as much as possible and indulge in these sorts of things when

ask

“Word got out that your dad is back at his house, and the media is having a little bit of a frenzy with it. My teams are holding, no one’s gotten through for an interview

that…bad?” I ask, looking up at

to see Walsh return. But, apparently, some packs are taking it as a sign that I’m…loosing a little of my hold on the situation.

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