Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

today, back under my father’s care.”

He raises an eyebrow at her silent.

“Yes,” she says, nodding and indicating her black eye. “Thank you so much for breaking your word to

Victor and secretly keeping my allegiance to my father’s pack. If you’d kept your word, I’d have been

stuck in a terribly abusive situation. In so many ways,” she says, c*****g her head charmingly to the

side and giving him a pretty smile, “you’re my savior.”

Willard blinks at her, not really knowing what to do with this information. “Of course, Evelyn,” he says,

giving her a cursory little bow. “I always had your best interests at heart and knew that your place was,

of course, in your father’s home.”

Evelyn gives him a little nod and sips from her teacup.

Willard turns his attention back to Walsh. “We need to talk,” he says, gritting his teeth. “In private.”

Walsh nods and indicates the door, through which both men pass. As soon as the door swings shut,

Ian turns to his mother.

“Mommy,” he says. “Can I go play?”

“Of course, baby,” she murmurs, turning her attention to a newspaper that had been left on the table by

the servants for the family’s perusal. “Don’t get underfoot.”

Nodding, Ian scampers towards the door. Evelyn’s mother opens her mouth to protest but Evelyn

interrupts her.

“Oh, let him play, mom,” she says, giving her a smile. “He needs to learn how to entertain himself on

his own, anyway, without us or Alvin hanging around.”

Her mother considers this, watching the door swing shut again after Ian’s little form passes through it.

“Does he seem all right without his twin? I know they’re never apart.”

“He’ll be just fine,” Evelyn murmurs, still absently reading the paper. Her mother hesitates a moment

and then picks up the Arts pages. The two read together in quiet, the picture of familial harmony.

Ian slinks down the hallway, sniffing carefully, trying to follow the freshest of his grandfather’s scents to

determine where he had gone. Adults walk too fast, he thinks, frustrated as he tries to find a balance

between looking casual and tracking his quarry.

Luckily, he discovers that they haven’t gone far. His grandfather’s office is at the end of the hall and, in

their hurry, Walsh and Willard left the door open a crack.

Stupid mistake, Ian thinks, sitting down in the hallway outside, daddy wouldn’t have forgotten to close

the door. Then, he takes a set of jacks out of his pocket and settles in to listen, bouncing the ball and

collecting the jacks as he does.

“-should never have put this much control into the hands of someone so young,” comes Willard’s angry

voice.

“Joyce will take control of this pack as my grandsons’ ward, when I am finished,” Walsh replies, his

tone harsh. “He needs the experience and he has the training to do it. Stop doubting him – I’m sure that

everything is fine.”

“Nothing is fine,” Willard hisses, and Ian hears something bang in the room – maybe someone hitting a

wall, or a desk? “Don’t you see what his happening? Your daughter disappears, replaced by her sister

– Joyce disappears as well – and at the same time…”

“At the same time?” Walsh asks, frustrated. “What?”

“This –“

There’s a pause in the conversation and Ian pauses his game, desperately wanting to know what’s

going on in the room. Carefully – very carefully – he leans forward until he can see through the crack in

the door and – beyond it – just barely set eyes on the two men together bent over a phone.

Walsh leans back and Ian does as well, taking his eye away from the door, returning to his game.

“Enlighten me,” Walsh says dryly. “What is it that that aerial footage is supposed to tell me?”

“That’s Kensington’s Beta encampment,” Willard growls. “Drone footage from this morning. Don’t you

see? He’s on the move. He’s rallying his troops, getting them in formation to march. Today.”

There is silence in the room then and Ian takes a moment to smile. Good. His dad was on the move.

He didn’t know what, precisely, Alvin and his dad were up to – but he was excited to hear that

something big was happening. Something that had Willard and Walsh worried.

“What is it that you suspect,” Walsh says quietly, some of the sneering condescension wiped form his

voice. “That he’s coming here?”

“Well, considering that his other declared enemy right now is a single Rogue woman, then yes, Walsh, I

think he’s marching on us. Now.”

“And the timing,” Walsh says, considering. “With Joyce’s disappearance, and Evelyn’s return…”

“My point precisely.” Willard says, smug.

Time to go, Ian thinks, gathering up his toys and shoving them back in his pocket before moving silently

away from the door. He scampers to the other end of the hall and dashes up the stairs, his light feet

making no noise as he goes.

Then, safely upstairs, he dashes directly into his mother’s room, pushing the door closed behind him

and leaning against it.

Evelyn is waiting for him, sitting on the bed and smiling.

“Well, sneaky squirrel,” she says, leaning forward to put her elbow down on the coverlet and smile at

her boy. “Come and tell me everything you heard.”

Ian gives her a big grin and jumps onto the bed.