Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 205

#Chapter 205 – The Future

A few hours later, Victor and Amelia finish their plans for the cultural, political, and military dominance of the pack community.

Just a casual little chat, I think, smirking at them from my spot in the kitchen. I put the children to bed just a little bit ago, but didn’t feel right going to bed myself with Victor still downstairs. So, I came back down, and poured myself a nice big glass of red wine.

Perhaps not the wisest choice, in my weakened state. But hell, life is short.

Apparently very short, if we can’t find this woman at the end of the map. So, I’m going to have a glass of wine, consequences be damned.

I can tell that Victor is exhausted as he and Annabeth finally stand, nodding to each other, reaching out to shake hands and seal their deal. Annabeth can probably tell as well, but she doesn’t let him know. She’s an Alpha’s wife, after all, I think with a little smile. She knows how important it is to let them keep their pride.

Finished, they both turn towards me in the kitchen. I can tell by Victor’s face that he needs to rest, so I come forward and give him a kiss on the cheek, determined to help him.

“Victor,” I say, “would you go upstairs and check on the kids? They were asking for you, a few minutes ago.”

All that’s just for Annabeth, though. Inwardly, mind to mind, I tell him the truth. They’re asleep, Victor – just go and get some rest. I’ll close this up for you.

Victor gives me a grateful glance and then murmurs something about seeing to the children, heading up the stairs.

I turn to Annabeth, then. “Can I tempt you?” I say, raising my glass of wine to her.

She looks towards it, biting her lip, and then down at her belly, which is now cutely swollen with her second-trimester pregnancy.

“I shouldn’t…” she murmurs, running a hand over her baby bump. But then, she looks up to me, flashing me a little reckless smile. “But what the hell. Honestly, I’m dying for a drink.”

I laugh, nodding her over to the table and heading myself to the cabinet to grab her a wine glass.

“Have you been well-behaved in that regard, then? Totally without indulgence?” Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“Yes,” Annabeth says, putting a hand on her tired back as she sinks into the kitchen chair. “Too good, I think. My little baby is going to be born stressed out. Perhaps he or she needs a little liquid relaxation as much as I do.”

I smile at her happily as I sit down, pouring her glass from the same bottle of red. Gratefully, she picks it up from the table and takes a long sip.

“God,” she murmurs. “I always forget how much I love wine until I’m pregnant.”

I laugh, putting my chin in my hands and studying her. “So,” I say, sensing her exhaustion and steering her away from the chat of politics and Alphas and packs. “A boy or a girl? You’re not finding out the s*x of the baby before the big day?”

“No,” she says, putting her glass of wine back on the table and giving me a smile. “I like to be surprised. Though,” she whispers, “I think I know.”

“Really?” I say, sitting up straighter in my interest. “How?”

She shrugs again. “I had two boys before, and this one…it’s precisely the same. I’ve read that you carry different, when you’re having a boy or a girl. Which means I think I’m in for another little boy.”

My eyes shine with excitement for her. “A little boy,” I say, the words a little breathless in excitement. “How wonderful for you. God, I loved having boys.”

Annabeth laughs at me a little at that. “How can you know, with nothing to compare them to?”

I laugh a little along with her. “You’re right. Honestly,” I say, looking down at my wine glass. “If I’d had girls, I’d probably be gushing about little girls now instead. I just like kids.”

Annabeth nods, understanding. “Yes, I can tell. And yours are very charming.” She looks up the stairs, at where Victor has gone, apparently to tuck them in. “It’s what made me trust him, after everything.”

I c**k my head to the side, curious. “My children?” I ask.

“His reaction to them,” Annabeth says, taking another sip from her wine glass. “He didn’t act the way that most Alphas would, when they discover that they have two children born…well,” she chooses her words carefully here, though I wouldn’t have been offended if she hadn’t. “Out of wedlock, as it were.”

I look up the stairs as well, smiling at the thought of him. “Yes, he surprised me too. He’s a very dedicated dad. I think…I think he’s wanted to be a father for a long time. Sometimes I feel guilty about keeping them away from him as babies, taking that experience from him. But.” I shrug, letting the past lay where it is. “Can’t change that now.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow at me, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “Can’t you, though?”

“Oh sure,” I say, a light sarcasm to my words. “I’ll just go warm up my time machine –“

Annabeth laughs with me then, but then presses the point. “No but really, have you two thought about it? Another…” She raises her eyebrows then and gives me a big smile, rubbing her hand over her stomach.

I bite my lip as I smile, not really knowing what to say. It’s not something I’ve allowed myself to think about, hope about, for weeks now.

But here, sitting at the table with this woman, with my friend…

“Honestly, Annabeth?” I say, leaning forward conspiratorially. “There’s nothing else I’d want more in this entire world. Another little baby, to be able to watch Victor watch the baby grow…”

I shake my head, staring off into the distance, marveling at just how much joy blooms inside me at the thought. I wonder, then, just how long I’ve wanted precisely this. And how long I’ve been denying that desire, putting it off for later.

“Well then,” Annabeth says, leaning in conspiratorially as well. “You should do it. Honestly, run up the stairs right now – rip off that Alpha’s clothes -”

We both laugh at that, but then I give her a little soft smile. Because, of course, she doesn’t know all of the details of our situation.

You can’t have a baby if you’re dying.

“When the time is right,” I say softly “If the time is right.”

She nods, her face going a bit more serious then. But she doesn’t press me. I’m grateful, right then, for a friend who lets me have my secrets.

We’re both a little surprised, though, when the front door opens.

“Bridgette!” I say, stunned but not unhappy when she walks in the front door. She gives me a hesitant little smile as she comes in.

“Is Rafe here?” she asks, closing the door behind her and starting to take off her powder-blue, fur-lined coat. “I’ve been trying to reach him all day – but he hasn’t been answering my calls.”

“He is here,” I say, looking around. Honestly, where did he get off to? He was in the kitchen a few minutes ago. I look at her, then, apologetic. “He’ll be back in a few minutes, I’m sure. Why don’t you sit with Annabeth and I and wait?”

Bridgette smiles at me, then, accepting and introducing herself to Annabeth as she sits down at the table. I raise the bottle of wine towards Bridgette, silently asking if she wants some, and she nods eagerly so I go to the kitchen cabinet and take down a glass for her.

When I come back to the table, she and Annabeth are discussing their pregnancies. I’m interested to see, though, that Annabeth has a little frown on her face, looking down at Bridgette’s flat stomach.

“Really, second trimester?” Annabeth asks, not precisely disbelieving but… “Well, you look incredible,” she says with a smile. “Must be one of those pregnancies that doesn’t show until you’re very far along.”

“Must be,” Bridgette says, laughing and running a hand over her stomach as she accepts the glass of wine from my hand. “Rafe’s doctor says I’m a marvel.”

I eye her figure curiously too at that moment. Second trimester, really? I hadn’t known she was so far along. She really doesn’t look it.

“Actually,” Bridgette says, leaning forward to whisper to us like girlfriends, even though we’re the only two in the room. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Sure,” I say, smiling at her. “You know you can ask me for anything, Bridgette. Whatever you need.”

“Do you have any…tampons?” she asks, her voice eager and girlish. She sounds every bit the middle school girl who asks her friend in homeroom for a loaner. She laughs a little then as Annabeth’s face drops. Mine does as well.

“These second-trimester period crams,” she says, laughing again. “They’re really killing me. How are yours, Annabeth?”

We both just stare at her in silence, having no idea what to say.