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.

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

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

the puffiness of

watch her mirror my initial smile. She then must turn to Claire who adorably

off after her daughter, whilst I trickle over to the corner of 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

is pulled by two familiar

Caspian utters in a

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

Claire who excitedly told me the conversations 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

this means, my gaze narrows steely as the men confirm my

mumbles hesitantly. “Trust your gut Caspian, 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

sir. There’s never been a 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

it only exacerbates my icy demeanor. And for once, both Manuel-my wolf-and I, agree on

Tanya’s POV:

bunch of desserts, leaving me chuckling despite the fact she shouldn’t be having sweets so late

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

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 it up to reveal

not planning on participating 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

way, I fall inline beside many of the excited young women as the genders split on either side of the ballroom, with a veil drawn between

eventually grow louder and louder, and when the time comes, the curtain ascends to the ceiling to reveal our designated partners. I inhale a deep breath, bracing myself to explain my circumstances to the partner I