Page 22 of Alpha’s Twins (Alpha Kings Island #3)

He’s really gone.

The tears start as a trickle, hot and unwelcome, but they quickly turn into a torrent, a flood of everything I’ve been holding back.

I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but cry.

It feels like all my worst fears have been confirmed, and witnessing the reality of it cuts deeper than I ever thought possible.

He didn’t even give me a chance to explain, to tell him why I was so scared to say anything. I’ve made a mess of everything.

The door swings open, and the nurse rushes back in, her face a mix of concern and sympathy. “Oh, honey,” she says, coming to my side. “It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.”

I try to stop the tears, but they keep coming, and I feel like I’m going to drown in them. “He left,” I manage to choke out. “He just left.”

She wraps an arm around me, her presence warm and comforting. “It’s going to be okay,” she says, her voice soothing. “He’ll come around. I’ve known him for a long time. He just needs to clear his head.”

I look at her through my tears, surprised by her certainty. “How can you be sure?”

She smiles and strokes my back. “I’m Charlotte, Jace’s sister,” she says. “I’ve known Aiden nearly all my life. He’s hot-headed, a real alpha. But he’s also a great guy and the best leader. He’s not going to walk away from anything.”

“He just did,” I point out, fresh tears falling.

She shakes her head. “Sadly, he’s not the first man I’ve seen do the wrong thing. You don’t have to put up with that, but please wait until he gets back before getting upset anymore, okay? We still need to run some tests to find out why you’re feeling dizzy.”

I nod, knowing she’s trying to be kind, but I still don’t believe her.

My mind is spinning, and all I can think of is the way Aiden looked at me before he left.

The raw emotion in his eyes, the way he pulled back like I’d burned him.

The tears start again, and I feel the dizziness return, a heavy fog settling over me.

Charlotte glances at the door, like she’s unsure whether to stay or go. “I need to go arrange those tests,” she says gently, her voice full of understanding. “But I’ll be just outside if you need anything. I won’t be long.”

She slips out, and I’m alone with the chaos in my head. I reach for my phone, my hands trembling, and text Emily.

He found out. I think I’ve ruined everything.

The message hangs there, it stays unread, and I’m not sure what else to do.

The silence in the room stretches, oppressive and thick.

I think about calling Hannah, but the thought of saying the words out loud is just too much.

I feel so alone, so unbearably alone, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

The walls close in, the small room suffocating, and I hear voices from the hallway.

“Poor girl,” Charlotte says, her tone soft and kind. “I’ve never seen him like that. He’ll come to his senses, but she’s a mess. You have to do something.”

I don’t hear a voice answer her, so I assume she must be on the phone. Her words are kind, but I feel so ashamed that everyone is going to know about this. His rejection is so public, I can barely breathe.

I need to get out.

The thought hits me hard, and I know I have to leave before I break down completely.

Before I hear any more whispers, before I see the pitying looks that feel like daggers.

I can’t stay here. I can’t do this. Not with everyone watching.

I stand, my legs shaky, and glance at the door.

The urge to run is overwhelming, and I don’t even hesitate.

The hallway is empty, and I move quickly, the urgency in my chest pushing me forward.

I catch a glimpse of Charlotte at the front desk, her back turned as she talks on the phone, and I seize the moment, darting out the side entrance.

The cool air hits me, cool and bracing, and I have to force myself to keep moving.

The clinic sits on the edge of the town center, and I weave through the streets, my pulse a frantic rhythm in my ears.

I don’t know where I’m going, don’t care, as long as it’s away.

The buildings blur past, and I find myself at one of the parks, where the trees are tall and inviting.

I take the path that leads toward the forest. The world spins, and I feel the dizzying rush of tears and panic.

My vision blurs, and I grip the rough bark of a tree, the dizziness threatening to pull me under.

The nausea comes in rolling waves, but I push through it, my feet pounding the trail.

The trees blur around me, and I wonder if I’m going to collapse again.

The dizziness sharpens, a sudden piercing clarity, and then it’s gone.

My breath catches, and I feel the pulse of magic, wild and untamed.

It fills the air, electric, and I know the suppression spell has broken.

The sensation is overwhelming because my magic never felt like this before, and I watch as the forest responds dramatically.

Vines twist and curl, and flowers bloom vibrant and lush, as though they’re trying to cheer me up.

It should be comforting, but instead, it feels like a reminder of everything I can’t control.

I run faster, the path winding through the trees.

The thrum of magic becomes ever more relentless, the colors and scents a riot around me, and I can’t escape it.

I don’t know how long I run or how far, but suddenly it’s too much, the weight of it all crashing down.

I stop, doubling over, my breath ragged.

The tears come again, and I sink to the ground, letting them fall, letting the forest swallow my sobs.

The flowers bloom wildly, an explosion of color and life, but all I can think about is Aiden and his rejection, not just of me, but of the twins growing inside me.

Twins.

The word echoes in my mind, a mix of terror and longing. I look down at my body, the slight curve of my stomach, the fullness in my breasts, and the reality of it hits me in a way it hasn’t before. They’re real. They’re inside me. They’re already part of me.

The fear is immediate, a sharp, familiar sting.

What if I get huge? What if I’m so big and different from the other shifters’ pregnancies that no one will want me around?

What if they laugh at me? I know the changes are happening fast, and I can already see them.

I try to breathe, to push the panic down, but it’s there, insistent.

But beneath the fear, a new feeling blooms, unexpected and fierce.

I touch my stomach, imagining the tiny lives growing inside, and a surge of protectiveness fills me.

A determination that no matter what happens with Aiden, I won’t let them feel unwanted.

I won’t let them feel loss and hurt the way I have.

The tears slow, and I wipe them away, my resolve hardening. I’ll be enough for them. I have to be. I picture their faces again, little versions of Aiden, and this time the image doesn’t terrify me. It fills me with something dangerously close to joy. I want these babies.

I stand and look around at the forest, the magic calms slightly as I take a breath. The flowers litter the forest floor like a beautiful carpet of blue and white, and a new feeling stirs. For the first time, I look at this wild magic, and I see it for what it is: beautiful.

The vines, the blooms, the life surrounding me.

This is mine. It’s not a burden, not something to hide or fear.

It’s a gift, beautiful and unique, and I can learn to embrace it.

To control it. I think of Aiden, of how I’ve been so afraid that I wasn’t enough for him, but maybe it’s time to stop letting that fear rule me.

The world is full of wolves, like Marian said, but maybe it’s time I stop caring. I’m stronger than this.

I think of the babies again and the way my body is changing, but this time I feel the fear start to loosen its grip, the panic ebbing away.

So what if I get big? So what if I look different from the other shifters?

I’m not like them, and that’s okay. I’m not going to let anyone make me feel less than I am. Not anymore.

The forest sways gently, as though it’s agreeing with me, and I feel a calm settle over my heart, a quiet certainty. I touch my stomach, feeling the warmth, the life inside, and I know that whatever happens, we’ll have each other. If Aiden doesn’t want us…that will be his loss.

Suddenly, a sharp cry cuts through the air, piercing through my revelation. I freeze, listening, and it comes again, a small, desperate wail. My heart lurches, the most primal of instincts flaring to life, and I move toward the sound, my feet quick on the path.

It’s a child. Alone in the forest?

The cry continues, urgent and insistent, and I push through the trees, the foliage thick around me. I picture a lost pup, alone and scared, and the thought makes my pulse race.

“I’m coming. Are you alright?” I call out, hoping for a reply, but only the sound of crying returns.

The path narrows, winding through a dense tangle of vines and blooms, and I follow the sound, my breath quick and shallow.

I reach a small clearing, and the sight makes me pause.

A narrow and fast-moving river cuts through the forest, and the water looks dark and cold in contrast to the beautiful, soft light of the forest. On the other side, a small figure stands, its outline blurred by the mist.

The child?

I take a step closer, and the figure shifts, its form rippling and changing. A sharp laugh echoes across the water, and I feel the blood drain from my face. It’s not a child.

I turn to run, but it’s too late.

The figure moves quickly and fluidly, and I watch, frozen in fear, as it shifts again, stretching into a blurred shape.

It’s across the water before I can blink, before I can even scream.

A man stands in front of me now, laughing, his voice sharp and cruel.

My heart stops, then races with a fear so deep I can taste it.

Malik. It has to be Malik.

He stands there, his eyes burning with a cruel, mocking light.

His face is unnaturally old and haggard, deep lines carved into his skin, and his body is thin and disfigured, the left side hunched and twisted.

I can see the toll the battle took on him, the way it’s ravaged him, leaving him a shadow of what he once was.

But he’s still terrifying, still dangerous, and the look in his eyes tells me he’s enjoying this far too much.

“Not what you expected?” he sneers, his voice a rasping taunt.

I try to back away, but my legs won’t move. The fear is paralytic, cold, and consuming.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “But I didn’t think you’d come running to me so easily.”

“What do you want?” I manage to choke out, my voice trembling.

“What do I want?” he laughs again, a harsh, grating sound. “I want you. I need some magic to…recover. And yours is perfect.”

“W-why?” I stammer, feeling stupid for even asking.

Malik tips his head to the side, assessing me. “Look at the forest,” he says, and then glances at my stomach, making my nausea lurch. “You carry life everywhere you go. It’s perfect for my needs.”

The panic tightens, sharper than ever, and I instinctively wrap my arms around my stomach. “You’re not taking anything from me,” I say, my voice trying to sound brave, but coming out as a whisper.

Malik laughs, the sound utterly humorless as his gaze flickers to mine. “Oh, I’m going to take everything.”

His words are a knife, cutting through the last of my bravery, and I know I have to get out of here.

I see him move, a blur of speed and malice, and I break into a run, the path a wild blur beneath my feet, my breathing coming in panicked gasps.

I hear him behind me, closer, and the fear is so overwhelming it feels like I’m drowning in it.

“Aiden,” I scream, the name tearing from my throat as Malik lunges for me.