Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown

Chapter 37 Perfume Compet*ition

Tanya’s POV:

The pipette between my fingers quivers uncontrollably as my arm freezes in the midst of adding oil drops. My thoughts draw back to before the start of the first round, I remember that one of the staff members came up to me, saying that I had two hours to complete my perfume. Hence, I chose to craft a fragrance that required more time to blend and combine, and that fit nicely within the two-hour mark.

Course I now realize that either she was mistaken, or the person had deliberately lied, for in fact I only had one hour. Some inner sense within me considers it was the latter a*s*sumption, which was highly strange, for I hadn’t even known the staff member, so why would she deliberately sabotage my chances?

Title of the document

None of that matters now however, the bell sounds like a ma*s*sive gong in my mind as I realize I only have fifteen minutes left to finish my perfume fragrance. And I can’t proceed with the original one because I certainly won’t be able to finish it in time. My thoughts begin to spiral with considerable doubt.

My weeks upon weeks of preparation, the hours spent crafting and identifying best methods and specific fragrances in my laboratory all gone to waste as I’m left cheated. A sense of disaster overwhelms me at the thought of losing in the first round, when I have put my entire heart and soul into this compet*ition.

It’s with this in mind that I suddenly reestablish the reason I’m here. Not for the fame, or the glory, but to save the Blue Moon Tree. It’s so important to me and Marco, a place that somehow connects us, and forever remains a prominent reminder of my future child. But most of all, it’s the essence of the Blue Moon Pack, and I know I have an obligation to them to save it.

of new ideas and alternatives. I skim over my notes and establish quickly what I have to work with and where I can go from there. My half-completed perfume can still be of use, and I alter it into a different perfume that takes less time to set. I take

create something summery with hints of

sandalwood to embody my idea. With lOmins to spare, I add the ethanol and swirl my flask of restored fragrance before placing it over the bunsen burner, whilst praying

a final swirl and sniff. I smile, highly pleased with the

who faulted me. Because

the rounds. In no time I’ve successfully entered the final round. There are only two finalists, Lily, and me. There are no restrictions on the ingredients or utensils permitted in this final round. And we are required to create a

everything goes splendidly. I have no trouble coming up with a perfume concept surrounding the Blue

written down in the black journal

pace. But I still take my time ensuring the perfection of each additional oil that I add to the mixture, annotating each step as I go to have a well-written notation of every decision

believe that I can win. I recognize that Lily is a very famous perfume designer who has won many perfume compet*itions, while I am a nobody. With

does make sense, her reputation far proceeds mine, and I understand that no one

reaction to everyone betting on Lily, portraying nothing but an eyebrow raise as he watches them chose Lily over me. But to my surprise, in front of everyone, he suddenly

the final round is about to start. In this round, we are allowed to bring our own utensils for our creations, and I excitedly unveil the leather tool kit

out of a special type of glass that makes it truly one of a