Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 184



Chapter 184

#Chapter 184 – Brothers

Evelyn watches as Victor takes those three steps out onto the field, her breath coming fast as she stands precariously – so precariously – on the edge of the watch tower’s platform.

Her eyes go to him instantly, as everyone else’s does. He’s standing alone in the field, ahead of his entire army, looking up at the watch tower.

She’d know it was him, though, even if he hadn’t been standing alone. Even in the messy scramble of the Betas just a few moments before, she had watched him the entire time, kept her eyes on him, savoring each move of his powerful form as he greeted the runner and then worked to reorganize his team.

She had recognized the voice that had commanded the scramble as well –

Thank god for her son, who had caused the distraction that had bought Victor just moments of time –

But here they were again, in the exact same spot –

Where was Alvin now? What else could they do?

“Is that him,” her father asks, standing next to her, squinting down at the man on the field. He glances at her and then at one of his Beta Captains, standing next to him.

“What, dad,” Evelyn says, narrowing her own eyes. “Your vision failing you in your old age?”

He frowns at her and then looks to the captain at his right, who nods, confirming. That is Victor, at the head of the field.

At that confirmation, Walsh lifts the sniper rifle to his shoulder.

“No,” Evelyn breathes, her eyes going wide. God damnit, he was going to take the shot himself –

She surges forward, attempting to tackle him, take the gun, anything –

But she’s held from behind by that cruel Beta, who wraps his arms around her and holds her tight against him, whispering in her ear. “Say goodbye to your Alpha,” he murmurs as her father holds his weapon steady, taking careful aim.

And then, precisely, evenly, pulls the trigger.

Evelyn feels as if her life leaves her in that moment, as well as her breath, as she sags against the Beta behind her, who pulls her away from the ledge. The bargain is complete – his life, in exchange for her safety – where would they take her now?

On the field, Victor has only milliseconds to think between the sound of the trigger clicking and the bullet reaching him, its final destination –

He opens his eyes wide, focusing on Evelyn, seeing her be pulled away by that Beta –

But suddenly, he’s wrenched aside –

A figure in black next to him, in front of him –

There’s a yell of effort, and then a thud, a groan, a spray of blood –

And then someone is falling back against Victor, knocking him to the ground.

Victor gasps at the pain of the impact as he hits the ground and surprise at the body suddenly on top of him –

“Charge,” the person gasps, and Victor’s eyes focus on Rafe on top of him, turning his head back towards him, his eyes glazed with pain. “Order the charge, Victor!”

Victor stares at his brother, trying to comprehend, but Rafe throws back a hand, smacking Victor, trying to get him to act.

“The charge, god damnit!” Rafe growls and then winces, gasping again in pain.

Victor snaps back to attention and opening his mouth to deliver the order.

“CHARGE!” He yells, hoping his brother is right – that this is the move that will save them, that Evelyn won’t pay the price for it –

Around him, his army responds, dashing down the slight incline towards Walsh’s army, waiting for them there.

A sound comes from the watch tower’s amplifier, then, and Victor recognizes Walsh’s voice as it commands his own armies to charge. They respond eagerly, dashing forward on the field to meet the Kensington forces.

As the armies rush on, Victor turns his attention to his brother, who grits his teeth in pain.

“Rafe,” Victor says, moving his body out from beneath his brother, laying Rafe flat on the grass and then looking him over, “where are you hit –“

Rafe indicates his shoulder and Victor looks, filled with relief when he sees that it’s a fairly clean shot, apparently missing major arteries. Bad luck, though, that it had missed his body armor, which would have stopped it.

“You’re lucky,” Rafe says through his gritted teeth, “that I’m taller than you. Or this would have gone straight through your head.”

“You’re not taller than me,” Victor murmurs, pulling a flat bandage out of a pocket on his left leg. “We’re both lucky it was a poor shot by an old man, or it would have gone over your head and into mine.”

Rafe laughs tightly, waving the bandage away and looking towards the troops. “Help me up,” he says, “I want to see this.”

Victor hesitates but then grasps his brother by the hand, lifting him to his feet. He, too, is desperate to see what happens with the armies meet. This is the moment in which their fates will be told, after all.

The two brothers stand next to each other, watching the charge. The armies fly forward, each eagerly pounding through the grass, the turf disappearing beneath them as they grow closer and closer together.

Victor takes a step forward then, wanting to be with his army, needing to be along side them as they meet the enemy –

But his brother, here, wounded – he hesitates, looking back towards Rafe’s shoulder. He can’t leave his brother wounded and alone on the field.

Rafe just smirks at Victor, putting out a hand and resting it against his brother’s chest as if to hold him in place. “Wait, brother,” he says. “Just wait.”

So, Victor does. Trusting his brother, Victor stands with him as the armies come closer together. Fifty yards now, then forty.

Thirty.

The Kensington troops lift their voice in a war cry then, ready to meet their maker, to risk their lives for the honor of their pack, raising their guns –

Then, suddenly, Walsh’s forces go silent.

Just twenty feet away, Walsh’s forces stop their own cry, shutting their mouths, dropping their weapons and falling to their knees. They put their hands up behind their heads in gestures of surrender, wincing in fear at their newly vulnerable states.

Victor’s forces hesitate as well, slowing slightly, but not yet stopping –

They had never before encountered this – an enemy force, surrendering in mass, before the battle even begins –

The speaker on Victor’s shoulder starts to go mad with questions, demands from his Beta captains about what to do next – should they slaughter the troops? Stop? All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Reacting on instinct, Victor grabs the radio on his shoulder and quickly commands a ceasefire. He can see the instant results on the field as his troops stop in place, their guns leveled at the enemy troops, but progress no further.

“What the hell?” Victor says, confused, looking to Rafe, who smirks at him.

“I’ve missed a couple of Christmases by this point,” Rafe says, with a shrug. “So, instead, let me now present you with Walsh’s army.” Rafe winces as he gives a little mocking bow. “After all, his army is made up of your own Betas, who never wanted to be traded in the first place. They’re ready to again swear their allegiance to you, if you’ll take them back.


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