Page 42 of Alpha's Twins
“Oh god,” I sob, the tears spilling over. “The babies—are they—?”
“Marian’s here, she’s monitoring them with the doctor,” he says, as I feel others moving closer and see Marian’s face appear. Gone is her usually cocky, mischievous demeanor; instead, she simply looks filled with concern.
“No fear, Serena,” she whispers. “The babies are strong, just like you. Rest. All will be well now.”
I feel the warmth of Aiden’s hands, his breath on my face, and I know she’s telling the truth. I know we’re safe. I close my eyes, the relief washing through me, and let the darkness take me, but this time, it’s the soft, sweet darkness of sleep.
I drift in and out of consciousness, the hours blurring together. Occasionally, I hear voices and feel the gentle touch of hands pulling me back each time I slip under. The clinic is quiet and soothing, but my mind is in a haze of dreams and memories. Sometimes I think I see Aiden, his form sitting vigil at my bedside, his presence a constant, comforting weight. Other times, I feel the warmth of Marian or the nurses caring for me in this soft cocoon.
It’s dark outside the window when the fog finally lifts completely, and I wake to the familiar feeling of Aiden’s hand wrapped around mine. My body feels weak, my throat dry, andI blink against the light, trying to focus. Aiden’s face comes into view, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my heart clench.
“Hey,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah,” I croak, the word more breath than sound. “I think so.” I try to sit up. Aiden leans forward to help me, and I let his masculine scent wash over me, sending shockwaves straight to my core. As he leans me back on the pillows, I can feel my cheeks reddening at the contact.
“I’m so damn sorry, Serena,” he blurts out, taking me by surprise. “I ran out of there like a childish pup. Not a man, not an alpha. Not someone you deserve.”
I’m momentarily lost for words and realize I’m gripping his hand. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry,” I say, my voice still hoarse and weak. “I should have told you before. About the twins.”
He shakes his head. “No, I should have stayed. I should have listened instead of running. I was just…”
“Scared?” I suggest, and he flinches slightly.
“Yeah,” he admits, his voice raw. “I’ve never been so scared. I didn’t think I could do it, Serena. Be a father. I’m worried I’ll be like Ralph. He was a bastard, and I’m terrified I’ll fuck it up like he did.”
I look at the vulnerability in his eyes, and my heart aches. “Aiden,” I say, squeezing his hand. “You could never be like that. You’re not him. You’re a good man, a good alpha. You’re everything he wasn’t.”
He closes his eyes, and I see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. “I want to believe that,” he says, his voice barelyabove a whisper. “I want to believe I can do this. That I can be what you and the babies need.”
“You can,” I say with certainty, feeling the truth of it in every fiber of my being. “You already are. I was scared, too. Scared I’d never be enough, that I didn’t belong.”
Aiden moves to sit next to me on the bed and takes my hand. “You belong here, with me. I love you so much, Serena.” He places his other hand on my stomach, and I feel the warmth radiate through my body. “I look at you and I see everything I want in life.Youare the life I want.”
Tears spring to my eyes as he leans forward and kisses me tenderly. We break apart, and I let the tears fall. “I love you, Aiden.”
“Thank the goddess, because I love you too,” he laughs, kissing me again, deeper this time, and filled with promise.
The days pass in a blur of tests and reassurances. The doctors at the clinic finally clear me, and I can’t believe it’s only been two days since Malik took me. Since Aiden found me.
We drive back to the house, cutting across the town, and I feel a stirring in my chest, a tentative kind of belonging. I glance at Aiden, his profile strong and sure, and I know we’re going to be okay. I know the babies will be okay.
As we pull into the driveway, the sight that greets me is overwhelming. The garden is still a wild tangle, but now it’s filled with people. All of them. Callum, Ava, and their kids, Tristen and Emily, Marian and the witches, and Aiden’s betas, including Jace and his sister. They’re laughing, talking, and the sudden realization that they’re here for us, for me, makes my heart swell.
“We weren’t sure you’d be up for this,” Emily says, her voice warm as she crosses the drive to hug me. “But we wanted to celebrate you and these babies.”
Aiden’s arm wraps around my waist, pulling me close, and I feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my side. “I hope you don’t mind, I said it would be okay.”
Fresh tears spring to my eyes as I shake my head, catching sight of the banner hanging from the porch.Welcome Home, Serena.And that’s what this feels like—a homecoming.
The afternoon is a blur of celebration, laughter, friendly voices, hugs, and the overwhelming realization that I’m not alone. Not anymore. I feel the warmth of it, the life, the belonging, and it fills me in a way I never dreamed possible.
Aiden is by my side, his presence a constant reassurance, and we move through the crowd together, the people around us a beautiful whirl of color and noise. I catch sight of Callum with his pups, and Ava is chasing after them, her face glowing with happiness. Tristen and Emily hold each other close in a tender embrace, their baby nestled between them. I’m glad I never met Ralph, but I wonder what he’d make of all this. That despite his abuse, his sons have built happy families and united the island instead of allowing it to fracture.
Marian’s voice carries above the crowd, and she approaches, her smile wide and approving. “Quite the turnout, Serena,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “How are you feeling, dear?”
“Better,” I say, and I mean it. “I can’t believe you’re all here.”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” she asks, her voice warm, knowing. “You did something remarkable. You deserve to be celebrated.”
