Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

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.

of her Blue Moon Tree perfume. One that could last for hours. With that in mind, my head tilts back to inhale the deep aromatic scent that tickles

open to the sound of Tanya’s soft-spoken voice. She peers up at me innocently with her delicate viridescent hues that are encased by a bright blue masquerade mask. Clearly aware I like what I smelled, I nod silently with the relaxed smile yet to fade from my lips as my eyes trail down to

puffiness of the bottom. The skirt is layered in white tools that lie on top of one another to make the skirt appear

back up to watch her mirror my initial smile. She then must

ballroom. Even though the atmosphere is quite nice, it is still a lot of people, and I find much comfort in sitting on

my attention is pulled by

it done?” Caspian utters in a low

card drawing session. You’ll both have

of her cla*s*smates whose parent was

as the men confirm my suspicions, with

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

newly found certainty sparks a dangerous chill in my bones. “This is my chance. I will dance with Tanya tonight. And then,

hear their glasses clink, and it only exacerbates my icy demeanor. And for once, both

Tanya’s POV:

of desserts, leaving me chuckling despite the fact she shouldn’t be having sweets so late at night. But I’m unable to say much as the host announces the start of the main

that I have been dreading the most. The host basically confirms my disdain. It is a

withdraw a card and step away. But before I can look, I’m suddenly tripped from behind. I stumble 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, and pick

in the dance anyways. My head has already come up with a couple of possible excuses I could use to whichever guy I get partnered with. Course I do feel a little bad for being a spoil sport. But

as the genders split on either side of the ballroom, with a veil drawn between us. Us girls organize ourselves in sequential order, and I expect that

ceiling to reveal our designated partners. I inhale a deep breath, bracing myself to explain my circumstances to