Page 33 of Alpha's Twins
I watch her carefully, knowing there’s more she isn’t saying, but we’ve made progress today, and I don’t want to pushher. “It’s fine,” I say, helping her to her feet. “Let’s walk around the lake, and I’ll show you the view from the other side.”
She nods, visibly relieved that I haven’t pushed her. I’m not a complete bastard. The rest of the afternoon is a dance between enjoying each other’s company and avoiding the truth that sits awkwardly between us, the lingering tension of everything that’s not being said.
Chapter 17 - Serena
“Have you spoken to the clinic yet?” Emily asks gently over the phone, and I find myself shaking my head even though she can’t see me.
I get up, crossing the room to close the door and lowering my voice. “Not yet, I-I just need a bit more time,” I whisper, my hand drifting to the soft skin of my stomach. “I’ll know when the time is right to tell him. I will.”
I say the words with conviction, as if I can will them to be true. In reality, I have no idea when the perfect time will be to risk the tentative peace Aiden and I have started to build over the last few days. Ever since the day at the lake, we’ve gradually opened up more and more to each other, and rather than the sexy young alpha I couldn’t see taking an interest in me, I’m starting to feel a genuine connection with Aiden. Starting to believe he might actually like me, for me.
“I understand, Serena,” Emily soothes. “Remember, though, that with twins, your body may tell people before you’re ready. If there’s anything I can do, just say. Okay?”
I turn slightly to the mirror as she speaks and almost drop the phone, startled by what I see. My breasts have always been large, but now they’re positively enormous. Full and spilling out of my dress.
“Serena?” Emily’s voice is uncertain.
“Yes,” I say, my voice shaking. “Thank you, Em. I will.”
We talk for a few more minutes before I hang up, but I’m lost, staring at my reflection, the reality of my changing body hitting me like a tidal wave. I know she’s right. I know I’ll run out of time. I can’t hide this from him much longer, but the thoughtof saying the words when I don’t know how he’ll react fills me with a fear I don’t know how to deal with.
I open the closet, searching for something to hide my changing figure. I feel ridiculous as I rifle through things I can already tell won’t work, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. What if Aiden notices? What if he doesn’t? What if he thinks I’m just getting fatter, and he doesn’t even want to bother trying to sleep with me anymore? What if I ruin something good before it’s even really started? I pull out an oversized sweater, but it only makes me look rounder, and I throw it back in frustration.
I settle for a loose blouse that hangs just right, and exhale, a shaky breath that does nothing to calm my nerves. I can’t be so obvious. I can’t let him see how scared I am. I know he already suspects I’m not happy about something, but he seems pretty clueless. He even brought me flowers yesterday, which is amusing given how many are still covering the garden after my magic went haywire. The last thing this place needs is more flowers, but the thought touched me. No one has ever thought of doing something simply to cheer me up before.
Maybe I should have told him then. But as soon as the thought appeared, I quashed it. I glance back at my reflection and cringe at my side profile. Twins. I’m going to be huge. As someone who has battled with my curves all my life, constantly being reminded that I don’t fit into the stereotype of the athletic and strong female shifter, the thought of getting even bigger fills me with dread. I can barely believe he wants me as it is; it’s almost completely impossible to imagine he’d find me even remotely desirable if I get even bigger.
Knowing that Aiden will still be out with the first patrol, I head downstairs for something to eat, but even the mere thought of food turns my stomach. I’m not sure if it’s morning sicknessor my brain’s way of preventing me from gaining weight, but I haven’t been able to eat properly in days. Every time I go to eat something, I feel panicky, sick, and dizzy. I think back to what Emily said about going to the clinic. I know I should, but I just can’t bring myself to go.
Instead of making any breakfast, I pour a glass of water and make my way to the garden, the chaos of it all still mirroring the chaos inside me. The magic suppression spell Marian cast is still in effect, and I wonder if that's what's causing me to lose my appetite, but I don’t want to ask her because I know she’ll tell me to go to the clinic, too.
I sit on one of the benches that Aiden made to go with the new garden, which is now looking positively wild, looking out over the mass of towering flowers, and trying to imagine what life with twins would be like. Two little pups. I never even pictured myself as a mother. I’ve never been able to, not when I didn’t grow up with that kind of family. I don’t even remember my own parents. I grew up in a house that was anything but loving, and the thought of bringing pups into a world where they might feel as alone as I did makes my heart clench.
Can I give them a better start than I had? Can I give them a family? The questions whirl around inside me, and I feel the tears start to fall, hot and heavy. I wipe them away, but they keep coming, and I don’t know how to stop them. What if I don’t know how to love them enough? What if Aiden doesn’t want them, and I have to raise them by myself, here on the island? I picture them like him, strong and wild, running through the garden paths of flowers, and the image is so vivid and so terrifying that it takes my breath away.
I close my eyes, trying to calm the storm inside me, but instead, I see their faces, little versions of Aiden, and the fear twists into something else. A desperate kind of hope that I wishI didn’t even have. Because when you hope, that’s when you get hurt.
The image of our pups running wild in the garden is still in my mind when I hear Aiden’s footsteps approaching, crunching on the gravel path. I quickly wipe my eyes and steady my breath, trying to look composed. He appears around the corner, shirtless, his skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, and I momentarily forget to breathe. His body is all hard lines and muscle, and the way he moves is both powerful and graceful, like he owns every inch of space around him.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low and warm. “You’re up early.”
“Hey,” I reply, my voice a little too bright. “How was the patrol?”
“Quiet,” he says, coming closer, his presence filling the air. “Too quiet.” His eyes search mine, and I wonder if he can see the turmoil I’m trying so hard to hide. “I’m starving,” he adds, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Gonna make us a big breakfast. We can eat out here.”
I feel a flutter of panic at the thought, but I force a smile. “Okay,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I’ll help.”
“Nah, you stay here, I’ve got this,” he replies, and then hesitates, like he’s about to say something more, perhaps that he’s noticed I haven’t been eating, but instead, he gives me a quick kiss and takes the porch steps two at a time toward the kitchen.
I watch him through the open doors, my heart twisting as he moves around the kitchen. He opens the fridge and pulls out eggs, bacon, and a ton of other ingredients, setting them on the counter with a determined look on his face. The clang of pans and the crack of eggs fill the air, and I realize he’s serious about making a big meal. The thought both touches and terrifies me.What if he really has noticed how little I’ve been eating? What if he guesses why?
The smell of bacon starts to waft through the air, and my stomach clenches in protest. I try to breathe through the nausea, focusing on the flowers, the sky, anything but the food, but it’s no use. The dizziness hits me in a wave, and I grip the edge of the bench, willing myself not to faint. I can’t let him see me like this. Not now. Not when I’m barely managing to hold it together.
The scent grows stronger, all the flavors mingling together, and I feel my body starting to seriously revolt. I know I should be honest. However, the fear is too great, too overwhelming. I stand, my legs shaky, and force myself to walk to the small table by the porch, determined to at least set the places. The sickness is difficult, but it’s the dizziness that's crippling. Suddenly, the whole world starts to spin out of control. I try to grip the chair to steady myself, but it’s too late. I feel myself falling, the ground rushing up to meet me, and then nothing.
When I come to, I’m on the grass, and Aiden’s voice is frantic above me. “Serena!” His hands are on me, strong and urgent, and I try to focus, to find words, but everything is spinning.
“I’m okay,” I manage, but my voice is weak, barely a whisper. The world tilts again, and I hear the raw edge of panic in his tone.
