Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan Chapter 60

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown

Chapter 60 Masquerade

Marco’s POV:

I generally detested banquets of this nature. It obviously didn’t help that I was a part of the royal family that used every God damn excuse to host events like this. My experience with royal banquets made me a*s*sume they were just all so fake.

None of the noblemen liked each other anyways, whether due to politics, or rivalry for power. Their greasy hair slicked back against their balding scalps. Whilst their royal wives rotted with jealousy over this girl and the next, as they were caked to the heavens with an unnecessary amount of powder that was somehow overshadowed by their ma*s*sive air balloon shaped dresses.

Title of the document

However, I soon realize that my negative a*s*sumption of the Blue Moon Pack’s banquet is oddly wrong.

As Tanya, Claire and I step into the main ballroom, the atmosphere feels light, and weightless. Despite the evening darkness that shimmers through the grand windows, the room emanates brightness. With sheer sky -blue curtains tied back stylishly, while walls are decorated with pearly design patterns.

Due to the Blue Moon Pack’s economic issues, they understandably didn’t have the same luxuries as other wealthier packs, and the ballroom here is dwarfed by even the palace’s smallest rooms. But, they seemed to know how to well manage what money they did have, and the residents seemed eager to volunteer to help for special events like this one.

The days leading up the banquet, I agreed to watch Claire on multiple occasions, since Tanya often went over to Mrs. Monroe’s bakery shop to help the older woman bake treats for the evening. I eye the table where rows of gorgeous deserts lay at the ready to be engorged. And Claire had told me that her school cla*s*s was among those chosen to help hang up the decorations the day before. And now I see the sparkly silver ornaments that slung from lamp to lamp.

I wonder how Eric could be so arrogant. Despite their economic drawbacks, the pack lives in harmony, and has a beloved fondness for the tree that is central to the pack’s faith and beliefs.

that could last for hours. With that in mind, my head tilts back to inhale the deep aromatic scent that tickles my wolfish senses in

encased by a bright blue masquerade mask. Clearly aware I

blue dress. While the top is covered in intricate lace, it is cinched at the waist to maximize the puffiness of the bottom. The skirt is layered in white tools that lie on top of one another to make

myself staring and shoot my gaze back up to watch her mirror my initial smile. She then must turn to Claire who adorably protests about her hunger. I chuckle softly. “Go ahead, I’ll

the ballroom. Even though the atmosphere is quite nice, it is still a lot of people, and I find much comfort in sitting on a chair in the corner, able to people watch from a comfortable

that’s when my attention is pulled by two familiar male

it done?” Caspian utters in a

the card drawing session. You’ll both have the number nine,” I hear Caspian’s

she had with one of her cla*s*smates whose parent was helping organize the event. Apparently, the adults are to draw number cards, and the men and women with matching numbers are to dance together for the first song of

men confirm my suspicions, with Dylan speaking first. “The

you’ve loved Tanya since the perfume contest five years ago. But you could not peruse her because of him,” says the Beta with conviction, but I don’t hear Caspian respond and a*s*sume he’s still unsure of himself. And so, Dylan continues. “You’ve

better time!” “You’re right Dylan,” the Alpha’s newly found certainty sparks a dangerous chill in my bones. “This is my chance. I will dance with Tanya tonight. And then, I’ll confess my love to her. It shall be done. Thank you, Dylan, for all your

for once, both Manuel-my

Tanya’s POV:

desserts, leaving me chuckling despite the fact she shouldn’t be having sweets so late at night. But

basically confirms my disdain. It is a dance, where the guests are required to pick

before collapsing on my puffy dress that softens my fall. In my confused haze, I have lost sight of the card. I finally can stand, and find it gently resting on the ground,

get partnered with. Course I

young women as the genders split on either side of the ballroom, with a veil drawn between us. Us girls organize ourselves in sequential

the curtain ascends to the ceiling to reveal our designated partners. I

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