Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 21 – Bath Time’

Tires screech as Victor swerves into his driveway, throwing the car into park and jumping out the door almost before it stops.

“Victo-“ Amelia says, just starting to unbuckle her seatbelt. But he’s already moving around the house, heading for Evelyn’s cottage out back. Amelia slumps back in the seat, watching him go. He didn’t say a word to her the entire ride back. Instead, he made a thousand calls, shouted at Betas, ordered more security for the house. He didn’t even look at her.

f**k.

Amelia crosses her arms over her chest and stares silently out the windshield, planning her next move.

Victor bursts into my house through the back door, coming into the living room where I’m working to wrangle two sobbing boys into their pajamas. They cried the whole way home and, while I don’t blame them, my head is pounding.

“Are they okay?” Victor asks as he approaches, looking over the boys.

“They’re fine,” I say softly.

“Boys, what happened,” Victor asks, staring at the twins who lay on the carpet sobbing their little hearts out.

“Victor, I think we should –“

Ian crawls over to Victor and raises his arms, asking to be picked up, still screaming with tears. Victor complies, cradling the boy in his arms. Alvin sees this and works his way over too.

“Ian, tell me what happened, who took you?!” Victor insists, turning Ian’s head to face him while Alvin screeches, demanding without words to be picked up like his brother.

Ian doesn’t reply, just cries harder. “Boys,” Victor says, his voice deepening with command. “You must tell me what happened.”

“Victor –“ I start, but he shoots me a glare. This sends me over my tipping point. I lose my temper, raising my voice to say “Victor, they can’t right now –“

“Don’t tell me how to talk to my sons,” he growls.

my feet and gesturing towards the two red-faced boys from whom an endless wail sounds. “They’re so freaked out, they’re not going to be able to tell you anything like

that?!” Victor snaps at me. I shove forward my hands, which are clutching

into bed. But,” I admit, lowering my arms. “I don’t think

“Baths,” he says, decisive. Then he turns and, holding Ian close to his chest, carries him upstairs. I pick

tap and plugs the drain, letting the tub fill slowly with water. We put the boys on the floor and let them cry it out as we silently go through the calming routines

the water temperature – a little too hot, I turn up the cold – while Victor pulls down some towels from

song that I remember from my childhood, and haven’t heard since then. An old song, about wolves running under the night

watch and listen, the boys soften, their cries lessening to whimpers, their eyes drying up. Alvin brushes his tears away and stands to watch the tub fill. Ian presses his face to

say softly, lifting him and sitting him gently in the water. Victor gives

asking me quietly to use a cup to wet his hair. I do so,

your song, daddy,” Ian

you. My grandmother used to sing it to me when I was little, and when I was scared.

says Alvin, laughing, unbelieving.

says, circling his own eyes with his fingers like spectacles. “You can see in the

true,” Victor says, nodding sagely. “But it doesn’t mean I wasn’t afraid. Sometimes we are afraid

fear finally starting to leech

something to be scared of.” Ian nods in agreement, pushing a boat

think you could…tell us what happened?” Victor says, organizing the soap and shampoo bottles so that the boys don’t see how intensely he is focused on their answer. I can see it in him, though – fear and rage and horror still showing in the

shrugs. “We went with Beta Frank to get cotton candy, Amelia said we

two tell the story together,

around, and someone had hit him,

us” Alvin says, looking up at us. “And they smelled like her,”

Ian says, his eyes narrow. “We could smell her on their

put their hands over our mouths so we couldn’t