Page 20 of Alpha’s Twins (Alpha Kings Island #3)

“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 thought of 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 sickness or 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 wish I 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.

“Like hell you are.” His arms slide under me, and he lifts me effortlessly, cradling me against his chest. “We’re going to the clinic.”

“No,” I protest, trying to push against him, but my strength is gone, my limbs heavy and useless. “It’s just…I just need a minute.”

He doesn’t listen, doesn’t even pause, his grip on me firm and unyielding. I feel the steady beat of his heart against my cheek, and I know there’s no arguing with him. “Aiden, please,” I try again, but my voice is fading, and so is everything else.

He carries me to the truck like I weigh nothing, and I feel the cool air hit my skin as he lays me gently in the seat. “I know you’re scared, but I’ve got you.”

The engine roars to life, and I see the tension in his jaw, the determination in every line of his body, and the fear. I can’t even speak, so I close my eyes, and the world slips away again.

When I wake, the truck is still, and Aiden’s voice is a low, urgent rumble as he talks to someone outside. I blink, the bright sunlight making me squint, and then he’s there, his eyes fierce with a mix of anger and worry.

“Serena,” he says, his voice tight. “We’re here. Can you walk?”

“I think so,” I mumble, not even sure I believe it. He helps me out, his arm around my waist, supporting me as we head toward the clinic doors.

My legs feel like jelly, and I lean into him, feeling the strength in his body, the heat of his skin. The nurse at the front desk looks up, surprise turning to concern as she sees us.

“We need a doctor,” Aiden says, his voice commanding, leaving no room for argument.

A flurry of movement, and suddenly we’re being led down a hallway, toward a small private room. The more I regain consciousness, the more my panic grows. Any doctor or nurse is going to discover I’m pregnant pretty quickly.

As the nurse runs to get something, Aiden helps me onto the bed and brushes the hair from my face. “How are you doing now?” he asks gently. “Gave me quite the scare.”

His voice is so surprisingly tender, I’m lost for words. “I’ll be okay,” I lie, and he narrows his eyes as if he can see right through me.

The nurse returns before I can say anything else, and suddenly the room feels impossibly small. She begins by checking my blood pressure, asking all the questions I’ve been dreading. “When did the dizziness start? Have you been eating? Could you be pregnant?”

I freeze, and I feel Aiden’s gaze snap to me, his whole body going still. The air is heavy, charged with the silence that goes on far too long.

“Well?” His voice is low, dangerous, and I know I can’t avoid it any longer.

“Aiden,” I say, my voice trembling, “I was going to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” His eyes are fierce, searching my face.

The words stick in my throat, but I force them out. “I’m pregnant.”

The silence stretches, unbearable, and I see the flicker of disbelief, then anger, then something else—something unrecognizable—flash across his face.

“How long have you known?” His voice is tight, controlled.

“A while,” I admit, feeling the shame burn in my cheeks. “Marian did a spell, and…”

“And you didn’t tell me?” The hurt in his voice cuts deeper than I expected, and it’s my turn to go silent.

“It was just a lot to take in,” I try to explain as the nurse excuses herself. “Marian said it’s twins, and…”

He cuts me off, his voice raw. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

I reach for him, a desperation I didn’t even expect suddenly clawing at my chest. “Please, Aiden, I was going to—”

His eyes are dark, a storm of emotions. “Don’t,” he says, pulling away. “I need to think.”

He turns and leaves, the door slamming behind him, and the sound is like a physical blow. I sit there, frozen, my heart pounding in my ears. He’s gone. He’s really gone.

The nurse rushes back in, her face a mix of concern and sympathy. “Are you okay?”

Her kindness is too much, and the tears come in a torrent I can’t control. “He left,” I sob, the words choked and broken. “He just left.”

She’s at my side, her arms around me, holding me together as I fall apart. “It’s going to be okay,” she says, her voice soothing. “Just breathe. Let it out.”

But I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything but cry, the weight of everything crashing down on me. I’ve ruined it. I’ve ruined everything.