Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 207 – Alpha Tendencies

But I refuse to be cowed. He’s going to hear me out.

Rafe looks at me, then, and I can see the guilt, rage, and self-disgust mingling in his face then.

“I was right,” I hiss. “The first time I met you, when I said I didn’t want my children near you. You’re a

f*****g sociopath, Rafe. Thank god you’re not going to be a father. And thank god she’s not pregnant,

so she won’t have to be tied to you for the rest of her life.”

He grits his teeth, then, and I can see that he’s holding himself back mightily. He starts to tremble even

further with the effort, either to not flip out at me, hit me, or…even harm himself?

Honestly, I don’t know.

So I back off. My job here is done, anyway, it’s not worth inciting him to violence just to make my point

further.

I take a step away from him. “I want you gone from this house,” I say, my eyes cold.

“You can’t command me to leave, Evelyn,” Rafe growls. “I’m an Alpha of this pack –“

“I can’t banish you, Rafe, no,” I say, my eyebrows flying up. “But this is my house. Mine. And I will see

you gone from it. I won’t have you under my roof with my children. Not anymore. Go to the hotel, go to

the Beta camp – anywhere else. But get the f**k out of my house. Right now.”

He looks at me in silence for a moment and I honestly can’t parse all of the emotions crossing over his

face. But then he turns, crossing the room in a few short steps to storm out the back door, which he

slams shut behind him.

I follow him to it, lock it, and then storm to the front door, where I inform the Beta guards there that he’s

not to be let into this house again. They’re confused, I can see, but they nod, ready to accept my will.

With that, I shut and lock the front door, blow out my candle, and then stomp up the steps. I pass the

children’s room – silent, thank god – and throw open the door to my own.

I’m still steaming with rage, ready to light into Victor as well, tell him what absolute scum his brother is

–

But.

Damnit, I can’t. He’s sprawled across the blankets, on his stomach, his mouth a little agape, dressed in

his pajama pants and his white dress shirt.

God damnit, he couldn’t even manage to get undressed properly. He’s so, so tired, I know.

My rage leaves me in an instant as I look at him. My poor Alpha, asleep on the bed. I shake my head

and then run my hand down my face, frustrated.

But it can wait. It can all wait. His rest must come before all things.

And suddenly, I realize how tired I am as well. I’ve been pushing myself too.

This battle can wait, I think to myself, nodding, tugging off my shirt and my pants and crawling onto the

bed in just my underwear, pulling a throw blanket over top of both of us as I tuck myself in against

Victor’s sprawled form.

Tonight, we would rest.

Tomorrow, though?

Tomorrow I planned to feed Rafe into a wood chipper.

But we would see what Victor thought the best plan of action was. It’s his brother, after all.

When Victor opens his eyes the next morning, Evelyn is perched on the side of the bed next to him, her

robe loosely wrapped around her. He looks at her blearily and realizes that she’s mad.

Dead mad.

Pissed as hell, really.

“Oh no,” Victor murmurs. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” she says, her face softening. “We, for once, are good. It’s your brother.”

Victor groans as he rolls over and works to sit up. God, it feels almost like he can feel his bones

grinding against each other as he moves. He slept for hours – why was he so tired?

“What did he do?” Victor murmurs, rubbing one eye and watching Evelyn with the other. She looks tired

as well – drained, really, with the start of dark circles beneath her eyes. His heart sinks when he sees

them. She should be resting – not worrying about whatever his brother has done.

Evelyn opens her mouth to reply but Victor interrupts.

“Wait,” he says, holding up a hand. She snaps her mouth shut, starting to get angry again, but he

speaks quickly. “Please, Evelyn, I want to hear everything you have to say. But can we please, please

have coffee first?”

Her face doesn’t soften, but she does smirk. Then, she points one steady finger at the bedstand. Victor

turns his head to see a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him there.

“I love you,” he murmurs, reaching for it immediately. “I love you so much.”

Evelyn laughs, then. She’s still pissed, but she can’t help it. “Wait, who are you talking to? Me, or the

coffee?”

“Both,” Victor murmurs, savoring the warmth of the cup in his palms, the smell of the rich roast in his

nostrils. He takes a long sip and then sets his shoulders and looks Evelyn in the eye. “Okay,” he says.

“Proceed.”

And Evelyn does. She tells him everything. With each passing sentence, Victor’s stomach drops further

in his own disappointment and rage. At the end of the telling, he’s looking down into his cup of coffee,

shaking his head.

“God damnit, Rafe,” Victor murmurs. “You were doing so well, proving you weren’t a complete asshole.”

“Psychopath, Victor,” Evelyn says, her arms folded across her chest. But then she frowns. “Actually, the

correct term would be sociopath with narcissistic tendencies. But. I think that’s less important.”

“Yes,” Victor says, sighing and draining his cup. “While I appreciate your official diagnosis, I still have to

deal with him, whatever the correct term is.”

Evelyn nods and gets up as well, but there’s a sudden knock at the door. “Yes?” she calls.

The door squeaks open and Alvin peeks in.

“Mama, papa,” he says, a little frown on his face. “Uncle Rafe is on the front porch but the Betas won’t

let him in. He told me to come get you?”

“Well,” Victor says, looking between the two. “That saves me the effort of tracking him down.” Then, he

focuses on Alvin. “Tell the Betas to let him in, he can wait in the kitchen. Maybe you can pour him a cup

of coffee while I get dressed?”

Alvin nods and then hurries away, but Evelyn shakes her head at Victor. “I don’t want that man around

my children, Victor,” she says. She didn’t want to contradict him in front of Alvin, but Victor can tell she

feels passionately about this.

“I know, Evelyn,” Victor says, looking her in the eye as he makes his way to the closet. “I agree. He’s

not a good influence on them. But I’d rather handle it in a way that…keeps Ian and Alvin in the dark as

much as we can. They don’t need to know the details of why their Uncle isn’t around anymore.”

Evelyn thinks about it a moment and then nods. She understands, but she’s still not happy about the

idea of that man in the kitchen.

Victor pulls some casual clothes off of a closet shelf and then comes to cup her cheek in his hand. “He

already knows he’s on shaky ground, Evie,” Victor murmurs. “He’s not going to traumatize the children

in the next ten minutes before we go downstairs.”

“Well, not any more traumatized than they currently are,” she says, sighing. Then she, too, heads to the

closet to pick out some clothes.