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. Just after our wedding day. “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. “making love to you,” he whispers, “is like 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. “Come on,” I say, pulling Victor away to a dark corner alcove. “Let’s dance.” Inside, I stand close to Victor and begin to sway my hips to the music that the DJ just stared playing. I looking up into Victor’s face, breathing him in, relishing his smell, like winter air and pine. Starting to feel the music, I shake my head so that my hair cascades across my bare shoulders, but Victor takes my chin in his palm and makes me look up at him. “What’s your name,” he asks. “Evelyn Walsh,” I smile and then turn, pressing my back to his body, letting him feel me. Victor breathes out, a sharp breath, and then I feel him start to move with me. He runs a hand down my side, the other wrapping around my stomach, pressing me closer. As we dance, I feel that new thing rising within me, the wolf that’s never before had a reason to raise its head. But now I feel it racing, a wild thing finally freed. I laugh and reach my arms up, wrapping them around Victor’s neck. Victor turns my face and claims my mouth, as I wanted him to, unable to resist. He kisses me hard, his breath coming heavy against my lips. “Fuck,” he says, breaking away. “I can’t do this.” “No, it’s okay,” I say, closing the distance between us. “I want this. It can just be one night.” “One night,” he growls, clenching his teeth as I run my hand down his stomach, lower, as I saw my sister do earlier tonight. He grabs me by that hand and gives me a warning look as I smirk, knowing I’ve won. “Let’s go,” he says, tugging me towards the entrance, “and be discreet.” Victor takes me back to his room, checking around every corner to make sure we aren’t be seen. As soon as the door shuts, he is on me, running his hands across my body, down my back, grabbing my ass. I give into the impulses that claim my mind, telling me to get closer, to touch more. I hastily pull my dress up over my head, tossing it to the ground and stepping forward. But Victor steps back, away from me, and for a moment I hesitate. Then I see his eyes, hungry, devouring me as I stand before him naked except, again, for my thong and high heels. “God, Evelyn,” he says, his voice a low growl. “Evie,” I whisper, a little breathless. “Call me Evie.” Then, there’s no stopping us. We come together, Victor lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him, kissing him, running my hands through his hair. He carries me over to the floor-to-ceiling window and presses me against it – I gasp as the cold glass touches my skin. I slip down against the window until I’m lower and I can Victor against me, his hard cock pulsing. I pull his shirt over his head. “How do you like it?” “Um,” I say, biting my lip, suddenly shy. “I don’t…I don’t know.” “Then I’ll show you,” he says, lowering me to the floor. I run my hands down his rippling abs and then slide his shorts off his body. “Fine,” I say taking in the sight of his full, magnificent body – his dick hard and thick. I can feel myself growing slick, ready. Victor turns me around, pressing himself hard against my ass. Then he puts a hand between my shoulder blades and presses gently. “Hands against the window,” he says. I comply. Victor slides my panties off and moves his foot between my heels, tapping against the inside of my shoes to demand, wordlessly, that I spread my legs. I do. I feel him slowly run his hand up the inside of my thigh, higher, higher, until – I inhale sharply, feeling him slowly trail a finger across my wetness, toying with me. I moan as he adds another finger, slipping inside me, and then dipping lower to touch me at my crest. I moan louder now, my knees going weak. Victor pulls his hand away. “More,” I moan, and the next thing I feel is something harder, thicker, pushing against my sex. “Fuck, Evie,” he says, pressing into me, “fuck it, I can’t wait.” Suddenly, he’s inside of me, sheathed to the hilt, and I press my hands against the glass, crying out as I feel every inch of him inside of me. Victor moves, hard, fast, holding my hips against him. I can feel him lean over me, his stomach touching my back, as he fucks me from behind. Suddenly, he pulls away from me, and turns me around, picking me up again and carrying me to the bed. “Please,” gasp as he puts me down on top of the clean, soft sheets. “Please,” I beg, pressing my mouth against him, climbing on top, needing more.
Victor holds me by the back of the neck, biting my shoulder as he reaches down and grabs his cock, and then, gloriously, he’s inside me again. I sit up and arch my back, writhing my hips against him. I look down into Victor’s eyes, my mouth open in awe. I never knew it could feel this good. I press my hands against his chest and close my eyes, moving my hips faster, faster, until – I hear Victor curse beneath me and open my eyes to see him gasp, and then clench his teeth as he comes. The sight of him – so powerful, so strong – sends me over the edge and I yell out, seeing stars and falling forward on top of his chest where I lay, panting and smiling. “God,” I say, after a few minutes have passed. “If I knew it felt like that…I’d have been doing this a long time ago.” Victor cups my ass and laughs softly. “Well get ready,” he says. “You’re about to do it again.” I smile and kiss him. “Yes, Alpha. Whatever pleases you.” In the morning, I wake tangled in the sheets. I blink the sleep away and sit up, looking around. “Victor?” There’s no answer. I move to get out of the bed and hear the crumple of a paper. Turning over, I pick it up. STAY HERE, EVELYN. I’LL STRAIGHTEN THIS OUT. DON’T LEAVE THE ROOM. My stomach drops and, on instinct, I reach for my phone before realizing – duh, of course – it’s not there. Frantically, I grab the remote and turn on the TV to the local news. Has there been some kind of disaster? Then I drop the remote, horrified, suddenly, to be confronted with pictures myself – my face – splashed across the screen. “These photos were taken just last night,” says the journalist voiceover, “of soon-to-be Alpha Victor Kensington cavorting with an unknown floozie. Citizens are outraged, as this goes directly against Kensington’s well-known stance on family values.” I gasp as more pictures scroll across the screen. Pictures of me, pictures of me and Victor, pictures of me and Victor dancing in what I thought was our secret alcove – walking down the hall…disappearing into this room. And – oh my God – pictures of us in this room, taken from outside the window – oh my god the window – My hands pressed up against the glass, with Victor behind me – I throw the remote across the room and pull the blankets over my head, sick at what I’ve seen. The fucking paparazzi – I should have known. Of course, I’ve never had a reason to even think about them before –my father has kept me safe at home, no one cares about what I do. The sound changes on tv and I peek out from beneath my blanket. There’s a podium set up on a stage now with reporters gathered before it. A blue box at the top of the screen reads “LIVE.” As I watch, a figure walks onto stage – a too familiar figure: green-eyed, well-muscled, a gaze that could stop a freight train. Victor. I cover my mouth with my hand and lean forward, rapt. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press,” he starts, flashing everyone his trademark smile. “Thank you for attending this early-morning press conference which I have called to stave off the rumors.” Lightbulbs start to flash in the crowd. “As I know many of you are aware,” he begins to smirk, “some rather…racy photographs were released last night, without my permission. “I want to begin by putting to rest the rumors that this was an illicit affair. As your future Alpha leader, I take my actions very seriously. While I wished to keep our new relationship personal for awhile, the press has forced my hand.” He glares at them. “The woman in the photos is not just a one-night-stand, but instead my new girlfriend – Alpha-born Evelyn Walsh, daughter of John Walsh, our nation’s Director of the Interior.” The reporters go mad, shouting out questions. Victor begins to respond, but suddenly a snarl rips out from the back of the room. The primary television camera pivots and turns its own attention to the wolf at the back of the hall, standing with his feet apart, his teeth bared, ready to kill. A shriek claws its way from my throat. Joyce. “Bullshit,” he growls, his chest heaving, his claws beginning to emerge from his fingertips. “Evelyn Walsh is my WIFE!” Joyce charges into the crowd, heading straight for Victor. The reporters scream and scatter and then – the feed cuts out to commercial. I pant and stare at the screen, unbelieving. I wanted revenge, yes, but this has spun out of control. Everything fell apart after that. I can’t say I regret ruining Joyce’s life, but Victor’s…I never meant for that to happen. His reputation was ruined after the press discovered that he lied at a live press conference and slept with another Alpha’s wife. Joyce sued me for infidelity and had me marked as rogue. I was expelled from the pack. After two months of scraping by on my own, I got an even bigger surprise in the form of a positive pregnancy test taken in the bathroom of a gas station. That’s where the world turned for me. I decided my child wasn’t going to suffer for my mistakes. I applied to a smaller, more progressive pack and enrolled in graduate school. It wasn’t easy at the start, trying to raise twin boys and study on the side, but I was determined. Six years later, I see the events of that night as a blessing. I am now a counselor who helps people every day make their relationships stronger. And best of all, I have Ian and Alvin – my twin boys, my stars, my lights in the darkness. Little did I know, my past was just about to return and put it all in jeopardy.
“I need to taste you right now, Evelyn.” Mark’s voice is thick with desire. “Get your ass up here.” I smirk at him, enjoying the view from my position kneeling down by his hips. Mark is all stretched out on my bed, six-foot-five inches of tanned, brawny lycanthrope handcuffed to my headboard. He’s all mine, for now. “I don’t know, baby,” I purr, hiking my silky blue nightgown up over my thighs and straddling him, writhing my hips against him in a way that makes him gasp. “I think I like you just like this.” Mark growls at me and bares his teeth to reveal his sharp incisors. “Come here,” he commands. I laugh softly and crawl up his body, running my hands over every inch of him as I go. “So impatient,” I whisper as I brush his lips with mine. “Uncuff me,” he pants. “I have to fuck you. Now.” I kiss him slowly and move my hand to the bowl on the bedside table where I keep the key, but my fingers slip against empty porcelain. I pull away from Mark in confusion. “Did you move the key, Mark?” I ask, sitting back and so I can look all around. Did it fall under the bed? “Baby,” he says, “please…don’t tease me like this.” “No, really,” I say, tucking a strand of my long brown hair behind my ear. “It’s gone.” The muffled sound of giggles erupts from the hallway. We have our answer. “Boys,” I call, glaring at the door. “You owe Mark an apology.” The door cracks open and two pairs of impish eyes peek around the corner. Ian, slightly braver than his twin Alvin, laughs and pushes the door open. “If he can’t get out on his own,” he says, bounding into the room, “he deserves to stay locked up!” His eyes are bright as he leaps onto the bed. “We know this is mommy’s favorite game – we added a twist!” He smiles wickedly as he begins to bounce around. “It’s no fun if there’s no challenge.” Alvin tiptoes softly into the room, characteristically cautious and shy. “We won’t do it again,” he says, making his way to the top of the bed and artfully unlocking the cuffs with a bent paper clip. “We hid the key!” Ian says, bouncing higher. “We don’t remember where we put it! But we don’t need it anyway.” I narrow my eyes at my boys – I didn’t raise them to be rude. I reach out a hand to snatch Ian by the waist and pull him down to me in a hug. “Enough jumping,” I say, placing a kiss precisely on his nose. “Too early for that, and I haven’t had my coffee. Plus, Mark is waiting for his apology.” “Sorry, Mark!” The boys chorus, Ian’s voice bright and insincere, Alvin’s soft and earnest. “Um…” I hear Mark say from beneath me, his voice unusually timid. I look down and am surprised to see that he’s bright red. “Can I…” he murmurs, “have my pants, please?” I laugh gently at him and reach forward to caress his face, enjoying the feeling of his rough stubble against my palm. “No need to be a prude, Mark, it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. We’re not shy about bodies in this house.” “Yeah!” Says Ian, smiling down at him. “It’s natural! Hey, are you our dad?” Alvin perks up at the question and turns wide, hopeful eyes towards Mark. I laugh at both of them and give Ian a nudge. “Okay, now you really are making him uncomfortable. You know he’s not your dad – the man who sired you is far, far away, and he’s not coming around anytime soon. Uncle Mark is just mommy’s friend,” I say, smiling. “Sometimes he sleeps over.” They’re so curious about their father’s identity, and I don’t mind. They’re just kids. But no way in hell will I ever tell them that secret. “Go on, babies, get ready for school and I’ll come make you breakfast,” I say, ruffling their hair and pushing them towards the door. Mark rubs his wrists and watches them go. “You have a…unique way of handling things, in this house,” he says. I don’t take it as criticism. “It’s true,” I shrug. “But there’s no reason they should grow up with outdated, old fashioned ideas about sex and relationships. I am an independent woman,” I say, leaning my body forward and stretching out against the length of him. “And I’m not going be ashamed of that, especially not in front of my boys.” I run my hand down the length of Mark’s obliques, and then lower, feeling him harden against me. “Now,” I murmur, wrapping my hand around his thick cock. “I still have time before the boys go to school. Where were we?” Our kitchen is a cheerful one, with bright sunshine flooding in through the windows and the smell of coffee in the air. Alvin reads the back of his cereal box while Ian tips toy army men into his mostly-empty bowl, watching them drown in the dregs of milk. I sip slowly from my mug, relishing the warmth that floods my body. I close my eyes for a moment and smile, remembering Mark’s performance this morning. A man of many talents, not least of which are in the bedroom. Now that he’s gone, though, I turn my focus to more important things. “Homework done?” I say, moving to the table to collect my boys’ empty bowls. “Yes!” They chorus. “We have good news, mama,” Alvin says, beaming up at me. I raise my eyebrows at him, inviting him to say more. “We’re going to be in a quiz competition!” Ian takes up the conversation seamlessly, something he’s been doing since the twins learned to talk. Alvin and Ian are so different, I think, looking them over as I put their bowls in the sink. But sometimes they seem like they’re two halves of one person, able to speak each other’s mind. “Oh really?” I ask, “a quiz competition? How did you enter that?” “They invited us,” Alvin says, stepping away from the table and neatly pushing in his chair. “After we played so much on the quiz website and did so well.” He shrugs slightly. “We always know all the answers.” I frown and lean against the counter. “Quiz website? When did you do that?” “At school,” Ian says, collecting his army men and putting them – still wet – in his pocket. “We get bored in kindergarten, and the teacher lets us use the computer. We found the quiz website all on our own, and we got all the answers right, and they want us to come compete!” I nod and smile at the boys, making a mental note to have a conversation with their teacher about how they spend their class time. “Okay,” I say, “Let me look at the details and we’ll see. In the meantime!” I clap my hands twice. “Get your backpacks! Time to go!” The walk to school is quick and I enjoy the crisp air as we walk. Ian scampers ahead, looking for frogs in the damp grass, but Alvin stays close to me, holding my hand. “Mama,” he says softly. “Do you think Daddy will see us in the quiz competition?” I am surprised by the question and look down into his big brown eyes. I run my hand over his hair and cup his cheek in my palm. “Why do you ask, Alvin? Why all these questions about your dad today?” He shrugs and looks away; I can tell he is a little disappointed. Ian is suddenly next to both of us, though I didn’t notice him listening or looking back. “We just want to make him proud,” Ian says, smiling wide and revealing the gap left by the loss of his front tooth just last week. “Don’t worry about that, boys,” I say. “I’m proud enough of you for two parents, all on my own. A thousand parents!” I wrinkle my nose at them, and we hear the school bell ring softly in the distance. “Oh no!” Alvin says, genuinely concerned. “We’re going to be late!” The walk home after I drop the boys off at school is some of the only me-time I get during the day. After this, it’s all work, work, work. As I walk, I pull my phone from my back pocket and open my favorite guilty pleasure app, CelebGoss. Unfortunately, the first thing pops up on the page is not an anonymous, vapid celebrity arrested for a DUI. Instead, it’s Victor. Victora and Amelia, Back Together, Hotter than Ever, the headline reads, followed by dozens of photos of our future Alpha King and his supermodel mate lounging on the beach, her sipping cocktails, him groping her ass. I feel my cheeks turn red and return my phone to my pocket. “Not interested,” I mutter. The last thing I need to see are pictures of Victor and his mate in the next chapter of their toxic relationship. What are the chances that today, of all days, my sons ask twice about their father and then his picture is the first thing I see when I open my phone? Is the universe trying to tell me something? I shake away the anxious thought and hurry home. I promised myself a long time ago that Victor would never know about our children. It’s a secret I plan to take to the grave.
I wave goodbye to Melissa, my client, as she wipes her eyes and walks to her car. She’s going to be all right – but wow, what an exhausting session. As she drives away I click my phone open and check my email, pleased to see that the confirmation I was looking for is there. “Boys!” I call, “get your shoes!” My children clatter around in the living room before spilling into the hallway, Ian hopping on one foot as he pulls on his sneaker. Alvin carries his shoes carefully and sits down to tie his laces. “What’s happening, mama?” I feign surprise, teasing them. “What, didn’t you want to go to the quiz show?” “Really, mama?!” Ian’s face lights up and he throws himself against me in a hug. “We can really go?!” I laugh and hug him back as Alvin joins us. “Well, you earned it, and I could use a break from my work. I contacted the show and it’s all real – you earned your place. Since you qualified together, though, you have to play as one. Are you okay with that?” “Yes!” they say together, two pairs of bright brown eyes smiling up at me. “Okay, into the car!” I say, smacking their bums as they pass. Off we go. “Alvin and Ian Ortega,” the receptionist says, her eyes wide. “This…this is them?” I nod, a hand on the shoulder of each boy. “Yes,” I say. “Is there a problem?” “No,” she says, shaking her head, surprise clear on her face. “They’re just so…young. You know,” she tears her eyes away from them and looks at me, “most of the contestants on this show are…adults. Doctors. Lawyers. Educated people.” “It’s not a mistake!” Alvin chimes in. “We qualified!” He slips his printed-out paper onto the desk. Ian gives the receptionist a gap-toothed grin. “Well,” the receptionist said, taking up the paper. “I guess…everything’s in order!” She laughs, “you’re the youngest contestants we’ve ever had! This will make for quite a show.” The receptionist waves a hand at the backstage door and the boys scamper off towards it. As I begin to follow, she stops me with a light hand on my arm. “You know, you really are lucky,” she breathes, “to have two such children, so handsome, so smart…” I smile warmly at her and gently pull my arm away. “Thanks,” I say. “I know. I count my blessings every day.” I catch up with my boys at the door and wrap each up in a hug, placing a kiss on the top of their heads. “Be good,” I said. “Try hard, of course, but overall you must remember to have fun, and be polite.” I narrow my eyes at Ian in particular. “No funny business.” “Okay, mama,” Alvin says, smiling his sweetest smile. “I wish dad were here,” Ian says, looking at me a little wistfully. “I want him to be proud.” My stomach turns with guilt, but I put on a smile anyway. “We’ve talked about this, boys. Your father is a great man, but he’s very busy – he’s out there doing big, big work, and helping people. He loves you,” I say, hoping, deep down, that it’s not a lie. “He just needs to be somewhere else. But he’s out there, thinking about you, and he’s proud.” The boys nod at the familiar story and a stagehand calls “Ortega?” from the backstage area. I gently push the boys forward and watch them run away to be prepared in hair in makeup, or whatever they do. I shrug and move to the craft services table, pouring myself a cup of coffee. The competition is very intense. I sit in the audience with my hands wrapped together in my lap, my legs bouncing with anticipation. I try to keep my face smooth so that if the boys look out into the audience they will find their mother placid and serene. Ha, what a lie. “Is the answer….magnesium?” Alvin ventures, his voice tremulous. The boys stand on stage behind a podium. Their answer appears in text on the front of the podium. A big pause, and then… “Yessssssssss!” The announcer shouts enthusiastically, and the crowd goes wild, me included. I am on my feet clapping for my boys, shouting their names. “You’ve done it!” The announcer says, “On to the final round! Congratulations, Ian and Alvin Ortega – you have the chance to be champions of Quizzzzz Nation! We’ll be back, after this commercial break!” A red light above the stage goes off and assistants rush around, blotting the host’s face with makeup, moving Alvin and Ian to a new set of podiums where they will face the previous champion, a scientist from LA. He generously shakes hands with the boys, who, I am pleased to see, greet him politely despite their excitement. “Thirty seconds,” an announcer says. Stagehands scatter and I take my seat. “Now before we get into the final level, let’s take a moment to get to know our newest contestants. Alvin and Ian,” the announcer says, leaning casually against their podium. “You are our youngest contestants ever and have, amazingly, made it to the final round on your first try. To what do you owe your amazing accomplishment?” “Our mom is real smart,” says Ian, and the crowd laughs. I blush and smile. The announcer smiles back at them, charmed. “And what will you do, if you win Quiz Nation? Spend your money on big prizes?” “We’re gonna find our dad!” Ian says, and the crowd hushes awkwardly. I huff out a breath of air and paste a smile on my face. What is with the dad stuff lately? “Yeah,” says Alvin. “Our dad is real busy, but we want him to know he can be proud.” “I am sure…he is very proud of you already,” the announcer says, a little stiffly, and then moves on the show. “Let’s play Quizzzzzzz Nation!” The competition continues, heating up as the twins fend off question after question. Behind the stage, an intern walks up to the title sponsor, carrying the trophy in her hand. “Um, sir?” she says, not daring to tug on his sleeve to get his attention. “What,” the man snarls, spinning to turn his angry attention to her instead of to the woman with whom he’s arguing. “Um, it’s almost time to present the trophy?” The intern whispers. The man grabs the trophy from her and she skitters away. He could care less about Quiz Nation, it’s just another media appearance to demonstrate to his people that he’s invested in arts and culture. Whatever. “It’s just not in the cards right now,” Amelia says to him, her arms elegantly folded across her chest. She leans back slightly, unphased by his rage. “I’m not having a baby.” “Deciding you’d rather defer having children for another time is different” he growls, “than getting pregnant and taking abortion pills to kill my child. Did you do it?!” His face grows red with rage. “Look, leave those stupid rumors aside, Victor,” she says, cool under pressure. “The fact is, I’m not into having a family right now. My career is on the rise – I’m scheduled to walk at Paris fashion week in the spring. I’m not giving that up to pop out a kid.” She narrows her eyes at him. “You never respected my career, my dreams. I don’t just exist to fulfill your demands and bear your pups. I have a life too, Victor,” she says, turning away in disgust. “I’m not playing your game.” Victor stands, clenching his teeth and rubbing his brow. His Beta comes forward to stand next to him, silent in black, but there if Victor needs him. “Maybe you’re right,” Victor says, rubbing his brows. “Maybe we do need to go to counseling.” “It can’t hurt, sir,” the Beta says, stoic. “In the meantime,” he gestures towards the trophy still gripped in Victor’s hand. “Right,” Victor says, “this stupid thing. What’s this show called, again?”
There’s a pop and confetti fills the air. “Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer shouts, “for the first time ever, we have a tie for the win of Quiz Nation!” The twins jump in the air, shouting amongst the noise, while the two contestant podiums display the same final answer written across their fronts. The announcer presses his finger to his ear, listening to his tiny earphone. “I am told,” he says, “that according to the Quiz Nation handbook, that we are obliged,” he pauses, letting the crowd cool down to listen, “to award the Quiz Nation title to the returning champion!” Half of the crowd cheers while the other half boos, clearly rooting for Alvin and Ian. I boo along with them, disappointed for my boys. “The rules state that in the rare case of a tie, the team with the smaller number of players wins! As Alvin and Ian are a pair, and Jim played individually, he is our winner! All of this knowledge coming from one brain instead of two is just a more impressive feat.” The boys’ faces fall in disappointment. “But we worked so hard!” Ian shouts. “And we’re so young -” “But that’s not all!” he announcer says, interrupting him. “In recognition of their great accomplishment, today Alvin and Ian Ortega are being awarded the rare People’s Choice award, to honor them for winning our hearts! Congratulations, boys!” I laugh as the boys begin to jump and cheer again, their sadness easily wiped away. I guess any trophy is just as good to them. As the boys rush forward to wave to the audience, I slip out of the room, hoping to get a bathroom break before I meet the boys backstage. All that coffee was a mistake. On stage, Alvin and Ian shake hands with the winner and come forward to receive their prize. A tall man comes forward from the left stage wing, carrying two trophies. He hands one to the victor, shaking his hand, and moves forward to chat with the host. “Do you see him?” says Ian. “He’s so tall. He looks like me!” “He looks like us,” Alvin corrects, staring at the man with the trophy with wide eyes. “Wow. I wish he was our dad, that’s what I always imagined he looked like…” The man finishes his conversation and turns towards the boys, ready to present them with their prize. When he sees them, though, he stops dead, the blood draining from his face. He hunches his shoulders instinctually, a predator, and comes towards the boys, scenting the air between them. The boys stand stock still, not afraid, but cautious. When the man gets a whiff of them, he gasps and the trophy slips from his fingers to the ground, breaking into three pieces. The man stumbles back, staring at them, and then turns, storming towards the wing. The boys watch him go, not even caring about their lost prize. In their hearts, they know what they have found. Victor paces back stage, mind-linking to his Beta, demanding that he come heel immediately. The boys were his children – there was no denying it. But how – where – He runs his hands through his hair and grits his teeth. Where did they come from?! How did he not know?! His Beta arrives with a quick salute. “The boys, who won the competition,” Victor spits out, the Beta nodding, “find whoever brought them here. Bring her to me, immediately.” “Yes, sir.” The Beta is gone in a flash. There is a blur of motion from the stage area and suddenly Victor feels two small somethings crash into him. Looking down, he sees a little boy attached to each of his legs, their arms wrapped around him like tiny koala bears. One boy even slips to the ground, wrapping his legs around Victor’s ankle, determined never to let go. “It’s so nice to meet you!” That one says, beaming up at him. “We’ve waited our whole lives!” “We know you’ve been busy, we understand,” says the other, smiling up at him and revealing a missing front tooth. “We got our wish!” Says the other, his eyes shining with joy. “Because we worked so hard, and won the competition! We wished for our dad, and we got him!” “It’s our prize!” Says the other, burying his face in the side of Victor’s suit jacket and sniffing deeply, learning his scent. For a moment, Victor freezes, not knowing – for the first time in his life – precisely what to do next. But then, he feels a warmth in his stomach, an instinctual urge, and he places a hand on each child’s head, caressing them. “If you won a dad, then I won the better prize,” he says softly, “I’ve been waiting a lifetime to meet you.” Victor stares down at the boys, feeling both delighted and overwhelmed at once. They were such an utter surprise – so handsome, energetic, smart and – well, so much like him. He could smell it on them, and see it on their faces – they were of his body, he had no doubt. Exhaling a big breath he didn’t know he was holding, Victor shakes his head at the boys, marveling that a life’s dream could come true in such an unlikely fashion. He had been longing for a child – hoping to have one with Amelia, his beloved mate and the future Luna. But she had put him off year after year, wanting to accomplish other things first. His family, too, had begun giving him sidelong glances at holidays and making hints about grandchildren and heirs. The newspapers as well had to begun to make sneaky jibes about infertility and look elsewhere amongst the pack’s Alpha population for the heirs to the line. All of it had filled Victor with anxiety, with rage. But here, suddenly, were the solutions that put all of that to rest. And made his hopes a reality. Two boys, even – what a blessing. But where…who… The sound of frantically clicking stilettos fills the room as a woman turns the corner, anxiety in her voice as she calls “Boys!? Boys!” The Beta strides around the corner just after her, working to keep up. Evelyn stops mid-step, frozen, staring at the image of her boys wrapped around the legs of…of… “You,” rasps Victor. “Oh my god,” says Evelyn, at the same moment. “It’s you.”
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