Accepting My Twin Mates
Chapter 84

Evgeniya

Finley Jacobs?

“The hell are you doing here?!" I wanted desperately to snatch his smug face through the narrow gap, silver burns be damned.

“You think you're so smart, you tell me," he leaned in tantalisingly close to poke out an eye.

“I dunno. Maybe you wanted to lose some more fingers? Even out that other hand."

His smirk broadened, sickenly so. “Something tells me that confidence of yours is gonna take a hit in a few minutes.”

He tried to press his Beta aura, an aura not as potent as an Alpha's but would still command attention. If he thought it would have an effect on me, he was dreaming. Not even an Alpha’s aura bent my neck in submission

Finley's focus shifted to a point over my shoulder, his face tightening and eyes narrowing.

“Someone's doing a little bit of d**k measuring and coming up short; Evva sniggered, finding a small semblance of satisfaction.

“50, Lucy got some sliced-up old man for a second chance mate?” He tried to stand that bit taller and expand his chest. Here we went with the show of testosterone.

To my surprise, my father remained silent, not a single growl escaped him and he didn't even posture in return. Had I been in his shoes, I would've probably hurled every curse under the sun. Perhaps my sharp tongue and quick temper came from my mother rather than him.

The door slowly unlocked, revealing who stood with him, a pair of guards, dressed in dark attire and armed. A small pistol hung holstered, a pair of shiny silver-coloured handcuffs peeped from a pouch, a long black rod hung from each of their sides like a thin baton and a strap crossed both their bodies that held some sort of larger firearm that I couldn't see properly. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Without a word uttered, one of the guards indicated to step out. I had the urge to tell them to go fornicate with each other, but I had a feeling if I did, an unpleasant force would be used.

“Cool your hot beans; Evva warned. “We have no idea what the layout is, so running is pointless. For now, anyway. Reluctantly, I stepped forward between the two guards’ imposing frames. For once, I was thankful for my characteristic height. They may have been far broader in muscle than I would ever be, but at least I could look them in the eye. I recognised neither of them nor did they have any recognisable scents from my pack on them.

I made a quick survey of the hallway while I could. There was a single door, heavier and more reinforced than the cell gate. The corridor itself was basic; I expected it to be bigger, longer. It was made of simple concrete and was wide to accommodate the gates opening. While it was wide, there couldn't have been more than six prison cells. This couldn't be it, could it? There wasn't a sound from any of them. Were we the only ones here?

“There isn't much point in looking for a way out,” Finley continued to prod what he hoped was an exposed nerve, pressing his small height advantage over me. His confidence faltered slightly when I felt my father's presence at my back.

“You don't have a home to go back to. Everyone thinks you ran away with him, “his chin jutted to my father, staring him down. “Even your mates. I'll make sure Lucy never gives you a second thought. And I'm sure those i***t twins won't have trouble finding someone else-"

He hadn't just prodded my exposed nerve, he shoved a live wire cable into it. My fist moved before I could think and my palm flexed to collide with his nose. He leaned back, causing my palm to brush it in a glancing blow he would barely have felt. He was quick to aim in retaliation, rearing his fist back. Before he could drive forward and before I could move my body in response, a large arm caught me from behind and another snatched his wrist.

“You think you can attack my pup?” My father drew up his arm, holding Finley aloft and clear off of his feet. “I have heard of you and my mate had no pleasants to say."

A deep growl lined his words, belying his calm tone.

Finley tried to swipe his extended claws, but my father caught that, too, squeezing his fist in a painful vice.

The version of my dad I had seen thus far had been a gentle giant, except for the one slip where he had lost his s**t, for good reason, with Isaac. I was wishing Badru hadn't held him back. What also felt disconcerting was the guards hadn't once lifted a finger to stop anything.

~The thought occurred too soon.

A buzzing swish was all I heard, followed by a resonating electric crackle. What I thought was a baton was far worse. It connected with my father's ribs with force and his muscles contorted in pain and paralysis from the electric shock. As Finley dropped back to the floor, he seized his moment to land a punch directly across my father's jaw, dropping him to his knees. “Dad!” I shrieked, tugging at his heavy shoulder to keep him from dropping fully to the ground.

“You're just a f*****g coward!” I was about to aim my fury at the skid-stain of a former Beta, when my father held his arm out to stop me.

“No. I am not hurt” he gasped, pushing himself up. I helped him as best as I could, but he was absurdly heavy. “You give him what he wants, so don't’

“Could have stepped in a little f****g sooner?!” Finley swore at the guards, rolling his right shoulder and popping the dislocated knuckle of his left and whole hand back into position.

The guards that hadn't spoken a word remained silent and stoic, not a flicker of emotion crossed their faces. All they did was politely indicate the door they had entered through. Aggression and violence I could cope with. It was what I expected. This was unsettling.

“Unsettling?’ Evva repeated. “This feels like the set-up to a supervillain, with their weirdo henchmen!

Wrapping his right arm around the left side of his ribs, my father moved forwards, making sure to keep me pressed next to him.

“Do not leave my side and stay behind me!

“Ok; I kept hold of his arm to make sure he stayed upright.

What lay beyond the heavy metal door wasn't exactly what I expected either. I thought it wouldn't have been too dissimilar to the basic concrete of the cells. Instead, it was as though we had stepped into someone's quaint country home. The walls were half stone and half cream-coloured paint, with diamond lead windows and a polished dark wood floor. It was too dark out to see much of the landscape, except for the odd highlight from the moon. My father appeared to be right. Outside seemed a snow-covered mountainous region and not the one from home. We may not even be in the states anymore.

One guard led the way in front, ignoring the corridor that veered off to the left, and the other marched at our backs with Finley subtly licking his wounds. The man in front held open the matching dark wood door, releasing a burst of pleasant warmth. The room was like some opulent bachelor's sitting room, furnished with dark woods, leather upholstery and a black grand piano. A table was set with three metal serving domes next to a large crackling fire built of carved black marble. “Bonsoir, bienvenue!” A deep and smooth voice spoke.

Aman with a bright shock of wavy blond hair, manicured beard and broad build in a tailored dark blue three-piece suit clapped his hands together, standing from a deep and curved armchair. I would admit, for an older wolf possibly in his 50s, he was quite good-looking. His bright green eyes sparkled with a strange elation as he drew closer. It was as though he was merely welcoming dear guests to his home, instead of a forced audience with his captives.

“That is a good evening and welcome, if you were uncertain,” his accent was distinctly French, but that wasn't the only thing I recognised. I knew this man; though not his name, I knew his features.

“And here I thought I was joking about the supervillain thing; Evva bared her mental teeth to our new threat.

I vaguely remembered seeing the French man around the pack house on a handful of occasions. I had seen him at the twins’ welcome home party... he had looked me over like a man inspecting a piece of jewellery. And now I realised, he was. Another nauseating wave of dread flowed through me. Had Isaac begun whatever this plan of his was, then? Or had it started further in the past?

“I see you recognise me, mon chérie (my dear)?” The man stood at his full height, only a few inches from that of my father. He was a wolf, made clear from the musky edge to his scent, and he held himself with authority. He was no Alpha, Beta or Gamma, with no aura whatsoever, but his height and build suggested he was fast and just as lethal.

“My men tell me you held him..." he addressed my father and nodded pointedly to Finley, who had moved to stand off to the side, “..with ease? Good. You'll do nicely.”

“You saying your guys almost let him rip my arm off as a test?”

“Yes, and you'll heal. Consider yourself lucky you lost no more limbs."

Finley growled at the poke to his last altercation, flexing his aura.

The blond man chuckled, amused by his lack lustre display. “Boy, your aura isn't matured enough to have me wince, let alone submit. Now leave, you have been nuisance enough.”

With a grumble under his breath, Finley stormed from the room, exiting a door on the other side of the fireplace.

“What a shame Isaac had no better wolf to utilise,” the man shook his head in exasperation. “Now come, eat. It has gotten rather late!”

He casually slipped into one of the set places at the table, removing the serving domes and allowing a billow of temptingly inviting scents to fill the air, reminding me of my hunger.

The guard at our back shoved us forward, towards the table. My father turned to snarl as the guard placed his hand on me, eliciting a teeter of amused laughter from whatever perverted host we found ourselves in the company of.

“Not the wisest of moves, lycan. Those weapons they carry are filled with wolfsbane;" he gave my father a telling look. “I know exactly what that toxin does to you. And if you insist on misbehaving, I'll be forced to break out the silverware."

The other guard reached into his pouch and threw a pair of handcuffs.

“The silver in them is none to pure, enough to keep a normal wolf in line with minimal scarring. Care to test how you'll fare, lycan? Another scar to add to your prominent collection, perhaps?”

The scar that ran down the left side of my father's face and neck was obvious and, at first, I thought that was the target of the taunt. But the man’s eyes lingered on the scar that was covered and hidden, the bite mark on my dad's right arm that he received as a I6 year old boy. The day his pack was lost.

“Eat” he said with more menace. “I need my fighters strong and it's not every day I invite my purchases to dine with me. So, bon appétit”

He began to carve into his food as my father and I slowly slipped into the other two seats. He purposely put himself between me and our host, his gaze flickering between him and the two guards. I peered down at the plate in front of me, wanting to eat it desperately, my stomach ravished in hunger. But I also wanted to launch it at the man’s head.

“We can't afford that. We have another life to look after; Evva reminded me.

“Do it, for little sunshine, malen’koye solnyshko; my father reiterated my wolf's words, glaring across the table.

“You imagining the ol’ fork in the eye?’

“Umph, I do not need fork.

I cut into the dark meat and, as much as I hated to admit it after a single mouthful, it was delicious; pheasant and roast vegetables.

I eyed the room as covertly as possible, seeing what I could use and any way to escape. There were two doors; one we had come through and the other was a mystery, other than it being the way Finley had left. So I took it as a sign that it was the most likely escape route. The guards that escorted us now stood by both doors, remaining silent and the rifles that had been slung on their backs were now held in front and each looked to hold rather large syringes.

“Where are my manners? In the excitement, I haven't introduced myself. You may call me Marceau. And I know your names, of course, Konstantin, and Evie. A votre santé,” he raised his wine glass, keeping his gaze set on me.

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