Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan Chapter 88

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown

Chapter 88 Dorian’s Dream

Marco’s POV:

As my eyes attentively glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, I notice Tanya hasn’t returned home yet. I’ve been waiting for her, even brewed her a cup of tea that sits cold now on the table next to mine. Up to this point, I have been rather excited, warm, and bubbling with apprehension that she’d come home remembering what she planned to tell me.

But instead, now I’m slightly displaced. This is very unlike her. Tanya would message me if she is running late for whatever reason. My chair screeches back in protest as I rise to a stand, as my thoughts try to create a logical argument for her lateness.

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But the logical conclusions can only last till around midnight. Now my heart races with uncertainty, she’s still not answering her phone and I know I need to kick into gear. I immediately call Oliver, tell him of my worries and that I want soldiers to be sent out in search of her.

Throughout the night Oliver and I go looking, going door to door asking if anyone’s seen her. We check all the places she might’ve gone. Vivian’s house, the perfume shop, the stores she likes. We ask everyone and anyone, and I continue to fear the worse as time continues to pass.

My chest tightens as each person we come across sadly says they haven’t seen her. Despite their promises to keep an eye out, I’m barely comforted. My head just spins with millions of a*s*sumptions of what might’ve happened to her, until finally a soldier runs up to me. “Someone said she was seen near Carol’s flower shop yesterday!”

We don’t hesitate to question the tip. Oliver and I rush to the area, and just as we near the mentioned shop, a wave of smells suddenly hits my nose. Not ignoring the instinct, I inhale deeply, and my wolf stirs in dire longing. I recognize her scent immediately, and hurry after it, Oliver follows me without question.

Eventually we find ourselves in a dark and narrow alley. And while no traces of a struggle can initially be seen, I notice a piece of metal glinting against the moon’s light. But as I kneel down, I realize it isn’t metal, but Tanya’s silver ring. I press the piece of jewellery against my lips, closing my eyes, drowning in the thought of where she might be now.

my eyes again, they narrow with focus and sharpness. I am going

Dorian’s POV:

Because my mother died years ago, yet now

pain feels so real. Her favourite belt stings my skin even as I lay asleep dreaming, and I cry out in heartbreak. My dream has taken me to some of my darkest childhood memories. And I once again become that small little boy, useless, pathetic, and helpless, crying out for his mother’s forgiveness, as she mercilessly whips me again, and again

then, mother had drunkenly

left her, seeing her as an abomination. Even when

I was born, half witch,

rejection, she took out on me, spending most of her days of life drunk and alone, beating and whipping me when she grew restless,

make me stronger and more resilient. Sometimes she’d whisper into my ear, telling me I had to be strong

her acts of abuse as a reason to one day inflict pain on my father. He was the true cause of all this. My thoughts grew more disturbed with time, as I’d think of all the ways I would t*ortur*e my father as well as his family and make them feel all the pain that

amount of affection, whispering sweet nothings and gracing me with hugs. But moments like those were far and few in between, for the most part, my mother was an angry drunk who couldn’t

hire a maid to look after

showed me true kindness and made

was eight when

must’ve mistakenly used her witchcraft, causing the ceiling chandelier to fall from its hook and smash itself

around at the time, and rushed in, terrified at the scene. She wanted to call the emergency services, wanted to help my mother. And while

as she was about to pick up the phone. Despite her confused protests, I stopped

My mother.

faces and swirls of colour undoing my surroundings. When it clears again, I’m dressed

in fact treat me like a son and liked me very much because of my intelligence. And despite his strict rules,

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