Pregnant With Alpha's Genius Twins

“Joyce!” I say, wrapping my arms around my new husband as he walks into the room. Joyce unwraps my arms and moves me away from him. “Come on, Evelyn,” he says, disgust in his voice. “Don’t be so desperate.”

I step back from him, shocked “Joyce? Is everything…okay?”

This was the moment when my life fell apart. I was an Alpha’s daughter, sheltered and petted, and had just yesterday married my childhood friend. Joyce had always been sweet to me, so I thought he would be a good husband. Little did I know, he had a cruel streak that was going to destroy my whole world.

Joyce rolls his eyes at me and crosses the room to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Can you just let it go, Evelyn? Let’s just get this stupid party over with.”

I am stunned. What just happened? “Joyce, are you –“

“God you are so annoying,” he growls, turning on me with a ferocity I haven’t seen before. I know Joyce is an Alpha, of course – a nobleman’s daughter like me wouldn’t marry any less – but I haven’t seen the animal in him like this.

“Look, I was going to let it pass,” he says, narrowing his eyes and sipping his drink, “and just let us have a nice, quiet life. But you keep pushing me,” he bites out.

“Joyce, I –“

“You know, Evelyn,” he says, interrupting me and taking a step closer so that he’s glaring down at me. “I really thought a girl like you – you know, a pretty girl, a noble girl, would be trained to please her husband. I am so…disappointed. To find that you’re not.”

My eyes instantly fill with tears. “Joyce,” I whisper “What did I –“

He comes close to me so that I can smell the whiskey on his breath. “Fucking you,” he whispers, “is like fucking a dead fish. You just lay there” he grits his teeth, “like a piece of meat. I wanted a wife to meet my needs, and now I’m tied to you, you pathetic, whiny little pup, forever.”

Joyce turns away from me and walks to the window, shaking his head. “What a waste.” I am shocked and mortified. I stand in the middle of the room, wearing only my lacy thong and my stilettoes, trembling as tears stream down my face.

“We’ve only had one night,” I whisper. Should I have known what to do? I was so scared – I’ve lived such a sheltered life and, of course, came to my wedding bed a virgin to honor my husband.

Joyce laughs and won’t look at me. “Once was enough.”

“I can,” I murmur, “I can…get better…”

Joyce turns to me, snarling. Suddenly he’s in front of me, wrapping his hand against my throat, pushing me backwards until my back hits the wall. “You can’t get better,” he spits out, “because you don’t have it in you.”

“You’re a fucking wolf, Evelyn” his teeth are fully bared now. “A wolf, and you fuck like a rabbit. I thought I would wake it up in you when I took you to bed, but you were…pathetic.” He snaps out the last word. I can feel his spittle drip down my cheek.

“You’re no Alpha’s wife,” he says, releasing me to walk away. I drop to my knees, sobbing and gasping. I always knew Joyce was powerful and proud, but I have never seen him cruel.

“Joyce,” I cry out, desperate. “Joyce, I’m sorry – I didn’t know! I’ll do anything you want – I’ll learn, I can change!”

“Change?!” Joyce furiously grabs me by my hair and hauls me to my feet. “You can’t change what you are, you omega fucking bitch.” He drags me across the room and hurls me into the closet where I fall into a heap.

He slams the doors shut and I’m suddenly in darkness, my only light coming from a crack between the two French doors. I hear the closet’s lock click.

“You want to learn, Evelyn?” I hear Joyce’s words faintly – he’s across the room by the door to our suite now. “Then watch how a real woman pleases an Alpha. And if you make a fucking noise,” I hear the suite’s door creek as he begins to pull it open, “I’ll gut you like the prey you are.”

I scramble for the door and press my eye to the crack. I hear a laugh – a woman’s laugh! - and the sound of footsteps. Two figures come into my line of sight – Joyce, and someone else in silky pink chiffon.

Joyce growls and pulls the woman’s head back by her hair, exposing her throat. He runs his sharp teeth down the length of her neck and she laughs, running her hands down my husband’s chest, stomach, lower – until she –

I gasp and slap my hands across my mouth. Her hand slips into Joyce’s pants and she groans. He growls and kisses her suddenly on the mouth, hard and slow.

She pulls away and runs her hands through his hair, worshipping him. “I only exist to please you, Master,” she says, dropping to her knees and reaching up to unbuckle his belt. Joyce takes a step back so that he leans against the footboard of our bed and I finally see the face of my betrayer.

Emma, my own sister, who stood next to me yesterday at my wedding. I fall back into the closet, unable to watch any further, and cry until my eyes are dry.

Minutes or hours later – I’m really not sure - I wipe the tears off my face with the palms of my hands, trying to put my world back together. Was it a nightmare? It must have been, except…it was so far beyond anything my mind could have created, even in the darkest dream.

My heart is completely shattered. My sister on her knees…my husband…the day after my wedding…

Slowly, something awakens in me and I feel warmth spreading through my chest and my veins. Rage, anger, power. I have been embarrassed and betrayed - but damnit, I am my father’s daughter. I will not be humiliated like this.

My lips pull back from my teeth in a snarl as I discover that what I want is not my husband's back, but revenge.

My Alpha husband wanted to teach me how to please him, but what he really awoke in me was something more powerful: my own Alpha nature. It has been sleeping inside me, but now it’s awake and hungry for vengeance.

I rise to my feet and feel around the dark closet, stopping when my hands feel silk. I pull the dress off the hanger and slip it on. Dress is a generous term, I think, as lace cups my breasts and silk pools around my hips.

This is more like lingerie, which I had intended to wear tonight when Joyce and I returned from the Alpha party. This morning I’d have been mortified to be seen in public wearing this. But now, everything has changed.

I hunt around on the floor until I find a bobby pin and bend it into the right shape, working it into the lock and quickly turning the tumblers to release myself. I smirk as I walk steadily into the empty room. See, Joyce? I have some skills you wouldn’t expect from a nobleman’s daughter.

I stride out of the room and walk boldly down the hallway, drawing eyes wherever I go, but I don’t give them any notice. I’m only looking for one thing.

I enter the ballroom. Servants are just putting out their finishing touches on the annual Alpha party, which is a triumph of marble and gold. But that’s not what I came for.

I scan the ranks of arriving guests, looking…there. At the top of the balcony stairs, Victor leans against the railing, swirling a Manhattan in his glass. Victor, heir to the Alpha throne, who outranks Joyce in every way and is two inches taller than him to boot. Perfect.

I move towards him, keeping my eyes locked on his face, moving in a graceful prowl I didn’t know I had in me before tonight. As I move up the stairs he glances up once, and then twice, his lips falling open as I hold eye contact.

“So, how have I never met you before?” He leans against the balcony. I close the gap between us and softly tug the half-full glass of whiskey from his hand.

“I’ve been around, I say, my voice low and husky.

“I thought I knew everyone in my kingdom,” he says, subtly scenting the air between us, trying to catch a whiff of my scent.

“Not your kingdom yet,” I say, smirking, “and apparently, not everyone.” I take a cheeky sip from his glass. I lean in closer, turning my face up to him, bearing my neck. He can smell me now, I know, smell my unique scent as well as my desire.

A growl rumbles in his chest. “Who are you,” he says, standing up to tower over me, closing the distance between us so that there is just a sliver of space. “Who is your sire.”

“I’m single, and Alpha born,” I say, holding the space between us though every instinct in me tells me to quail. “Don’t worry. I’m no cheap piece of meat.”

This time, he lets the growl slip between his teeth.