Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

Chapter 72

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown

Chapter 72 Tanya’s Wolf

Unknown POV:

I have always existed in the dark. Hidden from view. Invisible. Nestled in the darkest corner of my master’s mind. Despite my yearning to be known, to be seen, it remains impossible. An impenetrable mental barrier blocks me from stepping into the light. And I lack the strength or power to overcome this barrier. So for years and years, I remained in the dark, as I worked tirelessly to accumulate small bits of power day by day.

But all of that changed momentarily when I felt my master fall from the cliff. I wanted to save her; I was desperate to save her. And so, I fought against the barrier with all my might, pushing against the walls that caged me in. And finally, I did it. The wall cracked, and my powers slipped through to give my master the strength to survive the fall.

Title of the document

From then on, the small slit in the barrier allowed me to venture out for little bits at a time. When my master was unconscious and asleep, the defenses of the mind were weaker, and I was able to slide through to take over the wheel and control the body during the night. Course I was never fully conscious, as it mostly felt like a lucid dream. My vision was also skewed, and I could never see clearly. Nevertheless, I was excited. Thrilled that I could venture beyond my hole, it was a step forward.

Of course, because of my actions that day when trying to save my master from her fall, I had used up a lot of my power. So, despite the crack in the wall, my powers slowly grew weaker with each use. Then came the day my master’s baby was to be born. But the birth proved of great difficulty for my master,

as complications meant she and the baby were at risk. Despite my weakened state, I still wanted to help.

And so, with the last bits of my weakening power, I helped my master successfully give birth to the child. I was at ease, despite the pain. I knew I had done the right thing. I felt myself drift away that morning, my power now gone. I slipped into a deep slumber that I didn’t think I would awaken from.

It was years later that something wolfish stirred me awake. The sweet scent of something familiar roused me from my coma. I was alert again. Alive. Something drew me to a man who was a reoccurring figure in my master’s life. He had been the one to rouse me from sleep, and day by day, my strength was growing as his presence remained. I once again came out to play during the night, wanting to find the man. I followed the source of the delectable smell since my vision remained blurry. Despite the limitations, I remained confident as my power started to grow again once more. And that man even ripped off the mental barrier that day! From that day on, every day I started to believe more and more in the possibility of meeting my master!

It’s tonight that I find the power and the strength to take control of the body again. I’m also particularly hungry. I’ve been growing in strength, and in turn my hunger and need for sustenance have grown too. But of course, I remain visually impaired. So, I stumble about the room, groping the walls for the door handle as I sway clumsily.

Eventually, I do find the handle, and step into what I perceived to be the hallway. With growing confidence, I march onward, insistent on finding the fridge. But before I can start waving my hands about to locate it, the body I’m in bumps into a stiff wall.

Trying to identify the thing blocking me, my hands and fingers go to feel the object, rummaging up and down its form. The wall is a strange one indeed, the texture completely different from what I would a*s*sume it to be. It’s almost like I could feel human abdominal muscles, running my hands over them with intense curiosity, noticing how they’ve constricted and stiffened as I touch them.

And once again, the scent I so desperately desired and savored wafts past my senses. I’m further intrigued, sniffing eagerly at whatever is before me, like a child enticed by their favorite candy. Eventually, my lips brush against something soft, which surprises me. I repeat the motion, growing ever more curious.

Silly as the thought is, I wonder if the object is jelly. It is so squishy, spongy, smooth and soft, like a person’s lips. Unable to control my desire I begin to lick at it hungrily, again and again and again. The exquisite and flavorful taste only urges me to lick more, whilst my hands run up and down the object that continues to tense beneath my touch. <2

Eventually, I find myself satisfied. With a content smack of my lips, I smile. Renewed with energy I saunter back into my master’s room.

Tanya’s POV:

My fingers swipe through the pages of Margaret’s notebook with haste and desperation. It feels like I have

caused a permanent wrinkle to form on my forehead with my brows narrowed in concertation. I could barely focus on eating breakfast, the piece of egg on the end of my fork somehow making its way into my mouth while my eyes remain trained on the scribbled notes.

I have already read through Margaret’s journal multiple times now, soon learning that not only did she create perfumes that could cure illnesses caused by black magic, but she also had recipes for perfumes that could cure other natural diseases. It is indeed a riveting read, and I consider Margaret a pioneer of her time.

But despite how much I enjoy looking through her notes, the trouble I’m finding is that none of the listed perfumes combat Peyton’s disease. More problematic is the fact that Peyton’s illness doesn’t match

any diseases I recognize, since she doesn’t have any particular symptoms. There’d be no guarantee that any of the perfumes would cure her if the symptoms don’t match. It’d be like shooting in the dark.

Course, during my futile search, I suddenly feel like I’m being watched. My gaze lifts, looking across from me where Marco is sat also having his breakfast. Although, instead of eating, he’s glaring at me, a heavy frown on his face as he stares.

“Is there something wrong?” I ask hesitantly.

He scoffs. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” he says as if I should’ve already known about what is on his mind. Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

I shake my head, clearly confused. I watch Marco’s mouth twitch in aggravation. He considers saying something, but after a pause, his gaze only hardens, and he purses his lips, withholding whatever he has originally wanted to say.

Unable to understand what’s going on, and believing that Peyton’s illness is more important, I return my attention back to the book. Again, flicking through pages as I try to find a perfume that solves the puzzle to my madness. Another couple of minutes pass before finally I hear the harsh clatter of Marco’s fork that he deliberately drops onto the table.

My gaze shoots up to him as he blurts out. “You have nothing to say to me about last night? No explanation at all?” his accusatory tone confuses me, and my brain racks itself trying to decipher if anything has happened the night before to upset him this much.

I couldn’t think of anything. “But nothing happened last night,” I say, still puzzled. Although, what I do remember is the wonderful dream I had. “But I do recall dreaming about jelly…,” I chuckle to myself, realizing how silly that sounds, hoping my laughter would lighten the mood.

But it doesn’t. “Nothing happened last night…jelly…” Marco only grunts at me, before continuing to eat in silence, leaving me still bewildered over what I have done to anger him so much.

Trying to ignore Marco’s strange att*itude, I head off to visit princess Peyton again in the hopes of gathering more clues. Since my decision was sudden, I didn’t have the time to preface the princess that I’d be arriving, but I hoped she would understand. I really want to get to the bottom of this as soon as I could.

Despite my knock on her door, I think the princess fails to hear me. Her back faces me, and I watch curiously as she applies makeup powder to the space at the back of her neck with a powder puff. The powder is yet to set, and so I can still see the skin beneath, revealing the pattern of a flower that looks vaguely familiar to me.

But before I can get close enough to confirm my suspicions, the princess senses my presence. Almost in a startle, she whirls around to face me in panic. I raise my hands quickly in apology. “So sorry princess, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She presses a hand against her chest, chuckling at her shock. “No no, it’s okay. Sorry, I’m very easily startled.”

I smile. “I don’t think you heard me knock. But I just wanted to come to see how you were doing.”

She mirrors my expression. “That’s very kind of you Tanya. I’m okay. Is there something I can help you with?” The image of the flower is nagging me immensely. And despite initially wanting to conversate with the princess about her health, I feel like I really need to take a look at Margret’s notebook. “Um, I’m okay for the time being. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Despite her obvious confusion, I have little time to explain. I rush off, looking round the castle, I finally come across the maid that specializes looking after the princess from the day she fell ill. “Hi, do you

mind if I ask you a question?” I ask with a sense of urgency.

She smiles. “Course dear. What is it?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could tell me about the day that princess Peyton fell ill?”

“Of course,” she says. “It was the same day the king passed away. A few hours after his death, everyone had gone to bed. Princess Isabella went to check on her sister but found she couldn’t wake Princess Peyton from slumber. So, they rushed her to hospital.”

My eyes sparkle with realization. I thank you profusely before rushing home. Upon entering, I head over to the book and look through the pages before coming across exactly what I was looking for.

“Found it!” Marco walks in just as I cheer in triumph, and so I turn to him to share my revelation. “Princess Peyton isn’t just sick. She’s been poisoned!”