Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan
Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan Chapter 96
Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown
Chapter 96 Dorian Falls Into An Illusion
Marco’s POV:
‘Marco? Marco, are you there?’
I’m sitting with my war council when Eric’s voice suddenly infiltrates my mind. My brows wrinkle, and my forehead creases as I can’t decide how to respond.
Title of the document
“I need time alone,” I say to my soldiers, and they all leave the tent we’ve been using to conduct tactics for the fight against the pack rogues. Eric is still calling out to me when I sit down.
‘You right. You were right. I should have listened.’
This doesn’t sound like Eric, not at all. We considered each other rivals since children, we never played together, never trained together. We chose to be as far away from each other as possible. I saw Eric as the son of the Queen who replaced my mother, and Eric saw me as the person who threatened his right to the throne. I don’t even remember the last time we’ve spoken over the mind link. Or, we might have never spoken over the mind link.
‘What’s happened Eric?’ despite how much his actions have angered me, how we’re in the S*hi*t because of him. Something is terribly wrong for Eric to be this desperate and contact me. I’d give him a chance and hear him out. ‘Dorian has taken Cathy, and he’s using sacrificial black magic on her!’ my breath hitches as I fathom what pain my sister must be in, and I have to forcibly grip the table to stop myself from breaking or throwing something.
‘Where is she?’
‘But there’s something you need to know first-’ ‘What could be more important than finding Cathy!’ ‘Listen to me! Dorian is Joseph’s son!’
‘Impossible…’
stepbrother. He’s
he wants
Marco, Dorian wants to destroy the throne. He wants to k*il*l
bottle has a flaw. The user will fall into a state of extreme weakness for 30 seconds after using the perfume for 30 minutes. Use that against him. Find a way
Tanya’s POV:
Eric had surprisingly contacted him through the mind link asking for his help. Marco explains to me the defect of the perfume that Dorian has been using. And with the information from him, and then recalling what Barlow told me
my hallucinogenic perfume can be of use. But it needs to be improved, since when I used it on Dorian the last time, he was able to combat the effects. And
what’s different from five years ago, is that I now have a notebook that can combat black magic. I immediately grab hold of Margret’s notebook and begin reading through it again.
Marco for when he’d finally face Dorian, and I hurry to finish it. I add the necessary ingredients and stir the mixture so it combines fully, finally the smell wafts towards me, and I know it’s ready. The new hallucinogenic perfume can not only make the illusion become more realistic, but also has a certain resistance to counteract the black magic. I believe it can resist black
Marco’s POV:
he and Cathy are imprisoned. And through the cover of night, my soldiers follow me through the misty forest. Nature too is on edge; Dorian’s curse is
alone in pursuing Dorian. And whilst I didn’t want my wife in the midst of all this, I knew her wolf is capable of holding her own in a fight. Beside me, I hear her body mutating
approach the cave, my lover emits a dangerous growl at what we come across. Within the clearing, blocking the entrance of the cave stands a vast number of rogues. Dorian steps out from the crowd and the
end, Marco?” says Dorian with a sly
my men instead. “We fight to k*il*l. But
as he sprays himself with the special perfume that I am all too aware of. “Same goes for the Lycan. No one touches him.
years ago, that Dorian tried to k*il*l her. But what my mate remembers the most was the spine-chilling image of Dorian’s wolf. And as he shifts, I can see why. His height
So, I do.
that of my Lycan appearance. My claws glint beneath the moonlight as
attackers. My gaze snaps back to Dorian. Bring it. Like a phantom, Dorian crosses the distance between us in purposeful gallop, and the two of us collide, lost in the sea of fighting soldiers and
my time, maintain my strength and wait out the thirty minutes. So, my moves are calculated, sharp but defensive. Tactics I had learned as a child. Defensive moves and counterattacks meant for a tougher opponent, giving them the false sense of security, before later increasing their frustration as I continue to avoid their advances. ‘Dance boy! Dance! Fighting is like a dance’ my fighting instructor’s words replay in my mind like a lost memory. I never understood what he meant at the time. I was only ten. But now, they
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