Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 219

#Chapter 219 – Missing

“Come on, mama,” Alvin says, tugging at my hand and leading me towards the broken-down old house.

“Alvin,” I hiss, pulling him back. “We can’t go in there – it’s a ruin –“

He frowns at me, confused. “Mama,” he says, “the forest brought us to this house. Don’t you think it wants us to go in?”

I screw up my face at him, looking around at the forest. All my anger from yesterday is gone – drained from me. The questions…well, they’re still there. I certainly want answers. But I’m starting to suspect, really, that what tipped me over into anger in the first place yesterday was the forest.

The magic of this place might be mostly invisible to me, but it’s certainly working its will in its own mysterious ways.

“I don’t know if I trust this forest anymore, Alvin,” I say, looking down at him with concern. “I mean, it just separated us from your dad and your brother. How do we know that it’s friendly?”

“Can’t you feel it, mama?” Alvin asks, giving my hand a squeeze. Then he closes his eyes and smiles, breathing deeply from his nose as if he’s refreshed. “I just know it’s good.” He opens his eyes and his smile broadens. “If you can’t feel it, then you just have to trust me.”

“But why,” I say, frowning down at him. “I mean, I trust you, but why would the magic want to separate us from your dad and Ian?”

Alvin just shrugs at me. “Maybe we needed to be separated.”

I sigh, then, and let him pull me towards the house.

The steps at the front look about ready to crack as I put my feet on the first one, but I’m surprised, in the end, when it bears my weight steadily without even a creak. Encouraged, Alvin hops up the stairs, happy and excited.

I fight my fears, then, and insist upon opening the door first, not willing to let my child be the one on the front lines.

“Hello?” I call, looking into the room. No one – and no thing – answers me.

Instead…

Wow. I life my nose in the air, sniffing, my wolf’s senses taking over. My mouth instantly begins to water.

Something in this house smells amazing. Warm, and savory, with a hint of spice and sweetness. What on earth was that?

I can see Alvin eagerly sniffing the air as well. “Mama, it smells so good,” he says, his hand going to his stomach. We’ve been eating regularly this whole expedition, but it’s just been easy, light meals. Dense, easy-to-carry things like granola bars and dehydrated foods. Nothing like what we smell right now.

“Alvin,” I say, pulling him back as he moves to enter the house. “We can’t walk into someone’s house,” I say, “just because their breakfast smells good.”

Alvin has the audacity to roll his eyes at me then, and I glare at him a little bit. These boys – they were getting a little two saucy for me as they approached 7. “Mama, there’s no one here – the magic put that food out for us.”

“What?!” I exclaim. I mean, soul-level connections, sharing life forces, ghosts in the forest – all that I can accept. But a magical breakfast laid out for us in the woods? Somehow, for some reason, that

pushed it too far. “That’s ridiculous, Alvin –“

“Mama, it’s all ridiculous,” he says, throwing his hands in the air. Then, he pokes me in the belly. “Trust your body. What does it say?”

At that, my stomach conveniently growls. I put my hand over it as well. “They say to eat some breakfast,” I murmur, noting internally that we didn’t bring our backpacks with us in our dream state. It was eat whatever this cabin provided or go hungry. “Fine,” I say, sighing. “Lead the way.”

Alvin dashes forward, then, and I stop worrying that there’s anyone in the house. Primarily because I can see the whole thing as we enter – it’s just a one-room cabin, but also because I’m starting to believe my son when he tells me the magic is working its own will, for its own reasons.

The room is nicer than I expected it to be, the moment I walk into it. I had looked in the window as we came up the steps and could have sworn I saw cobwebs, and broken furniture, and rotted wood. But now, inside? It’s cozy. The wood that lines the room is warm and rich. The furniture is patched but clean. There’s even a little fire roaring in the hearth.

And the table…

Alvin’s already at it, slavering over what he sees there, and I admit that my mouth falls open when I see it. Everything I could want for breakfast, everything meal I’ve ever enjoyed, is here.

I marvel, reaching out and picking up a blueberry muffin that I swear – I swear – is identical to the ones my grandmother made me when I was a little girl, and which I haven’t seen the equal of since she died. And there are pancakes, and pastries – even a warm tureen full of stew, for some reason. This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Alvin lifts the lid off of this and smiles, giving it a warm sniff.

“Stew?” I say, an eyebrow raised, tossing the muffin between my hands. “That’s what you want for breakfast?”

He shrugs, grabbing a bowl and a spoon from the edge of the table. “I had a craving. The magic said yes.”

I eye all of the food warily. “I don’t know about this, Alvin,” I say. “I read a lot of mythology as a kid that said that the one thing you’re not supposed to do when you enter another realm is to eat the food. That you’ll be stuck there forever if you do.”

“Or,” he says, looking at me with eyes too wise for his six years, “maybe to get to the other side, you have to keep going deeper.” He picks up a cookie and holds it out to me. “Peanut butter chocolate chip,” he says, smiling at me. “Your favorite.”

Damn it. He’s right. I snatch the cookie out of his hand, giving him a little bitter smile. “Fine, you win,” I say, quickly snatching a bite from it. “Excelsior, baby.”

Alvin frowns at me as he begins to ladle stew into his bowl. “What does that mean?” he asks.

“Further up, and further in,” I say, sitting down at the table and beginning to load my plate with pastries.

Across the forest, Victor stirs awake in the tent. He looks blearily around, rubbing at his eyes. Next to him, Ian is still curled up, his head on his arm, a little stream of drool leaking out of his mouth.

Victor smirks at his son, doing his best to stay still so he doesn’t wake him. But as he looks around, he realizes that Evelyn and Alvin aren’t in the tent.

Damn, he must have been sleeping heavily if he missed them getting up, dressed, and out of the tent. But, considering the ache in his body – especially his neck, his back – perhaps he had needed the rest more than ever.

Sighing, Victor sits up, rubbing his head, which is pounding a little. His mouth is dry as well, suggesting that he’s dehydrated, even though he drank tons of water before bed. He sighs, realizing that his body is weak, and growing weaker.

They had to find this woman soon.

Ian stirs next to him and is awake very suddenly.

“Alvin?” Ian calls, looking around for his brother. His voice is worried, frantic.

“It’s all right,” Victor says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “They’re probably just outside the tent, getting breakfast,” he says, smiling at his son.

But Ian turns to him, his eyes wide with shock. “No, papa,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t – I can’t feel him – I can’t talk to him, in my mind –“ he throws himself to his feet then, dashing to the door of the tent and throwing it open, running out into the cold morning air.

“Alvin!” Ian shouts, frantic.

But as Victor follows him out of the tent as well, he knows that it’s fruitless. Because he checked too, and his connection with Evelyn – well, it’s not gone. But it’s dim. So dim as if she’s…

“They’re gone,” Victor says, staring down at his son.

“I know,” Ian says, looking around into the woods. “The forest took them. And it wants us to find them.”