Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan Chapter 59
Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown
Chapter 59 Sleep Walking
Tanya’s POV:
Caspian is quick in his greetings to Marco, with something clearly on his mind that he’s eager to spill.
“So, Tanya, have you ever been to a banquet?” he probes with a toothy smile.
“Um,” I have to stop myself from ncing in Marco’s direction upon recalling our night at the auction.
With Marco’s memory loss, did the Autumn Equinox even count?
Title of the document
“No,” my tone does not meet the energy of his anticipation, but Caspian doesn’t seem to notice it.
“Well, my dear, you’re invited to the banquet at the Blue Moon Pack!” I feel bad for not appearing more
excited, I do try to usher on a pleased smile, but today’s events have really worn me out.
“The theme will be masquerade, and it will be taking ceter this week! Almost everyone from the
pack will be there,” he adds.
Upon hearing this however, a difort settles in my stomach. I never did good with such busy
events. The environments of such balls are much too intense for me, I’m not much of a dancer, and I’m
always too shy to strike up conversations with other people. Even in the Blue Moon Pack where I feel
comfortable. I’d still prefer to stay within theforts of my own home working on my perfumes.
I nervously scratch the back of my neck as I try to turn him down. “Um, I don’t know… it’s really not my
scene,” and I look at him with an apologetic smile. “I do really appreciate the invitation Caspian, but
maybe next time
Despite my attempts however, the Alpha is undeterred. “No way,” says Caspian with an entric re
to his tone. “You’ll love it! I know you’ll love it! It’ll be everyone you know from the pack, and there’ll be
loads of delicious food.”
That’s when I hear ire who stands beside me squeal with excitement. I have to internally sigh as
she tugs at my shirt. “Mommy please can we go. Pretty pretty please.” If it weren’t for my daughter, I
would’ve stuck to my guns. But she had a long day, which ended on a sour note. This seemed to have
lifted her spirits within an instant, and I didn’t feel like shattering it again tonight. “Alright, wille,”
Caspian almost adopts my daughter’s childish mannerisms as they both cheer in utter excitement. I
don’t understand why he’s so persistent in meing. Caspian knew I got along with the rest of the
pack; it has already been five years. It’s not like I need to mingle and get to know them. And yet he
seems well and truly enthralled now that he knows I’ming, saying his goodbyes before heading off
with a merry pep in his step.
Despite me trying to hide my difort and slight confusion, I turn to Marco, realizing that for once he
is hiding none of his feelings towards the situation. As a heavy frown takes a deep seat upon his lips
whilst watching Caspian disappear into the distance.
I’m half-awake, my vision blurry and only able to make out mere objects through the darkness. It is the
cold that has stirred my senses slightly, making my body shiver at its mercy. But when I reach out to
pull the covers over myself, my hand collides with something solid.
Crash.
My eyes flutter open in rm as I’m startled awake. But I’m not in my room. I’m standing outside my
door, the cold wind brushing fiercely against my exposed skin that is left bare by my short nightgown.
My breath hitches in uncertainty and confusion till I nce down to see one of my potted nts
knocked over. The ceramic is cracked, andys dismantled on the ground, while the soil muddily litters
the steps up to my house.
I sigh, crouching down to clean up the mess, while I think about the fact that I am sleep walking again.
When I had to jump off that cliff to escape from Dorian, I found my ne damaged during the fall.
The ruby pendant had a crack, and its once glossy reflection it gave is now dulled. Ever since then, I
was periodically sleep walking during the night, with no conscious awareness until bumping into
something that woke me.
But the sleep walking tendencies did eventually stop after I had ire. So it is incredibly strange to me
that I am sleep walking again, coincidently when Marco has reappeared in my life.
Speaking of Marco…
The door to his house opens and shuts, and I hear the man walk across the small patch of gra*s*s that
separated our buildings. “Everything alright?” he asks,ing to stand beside me.
“Um, yeah I’m fine. I was justing out for some fresh air, and I knocked over the pot by ident,” I
say quickly.
“It’s really dark. And since the streemps are broken, I can’t really see,” I add, knowing that Marco is
well aware of myck of wolf which means my senses are deplorable inparison to the rest of the
pack wolves. I choose to withhold the truth of the matter, not telling Marco about my sleep walking, and
I of course can’t tell if Marco truly believes me or not. He simply nods silently before bending down
beside me to help pick up the broken pieces. We do so quietly, and somehow, I feel a little uncertain
with how quiet he’s being, wanting to desperately know what he’s thinking.
Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g
Finally, he speaks. “May Ie with you to the banquet?” I try and blink away the surprise on my face.
I find it a little unusual that he’s asking for my permission, as well as the fact I know he isn’t the greatest
fan of banquets in general. But something about the look in his eyes tells me that something has
changed, I just can’t pinpoint ‘what’.
I realize my silence, and I quickly respond. “Of course, you cane. Definitely. ire would love it if
you came along.”
He again nods, although I do notice some relieved tension in his expression, I don’t question it and we
continue cleaning up the mess. Afterwards I say goodnight and I head inside and back to bed.
The next day is a typical workday for me, and by the afternoon, I’m walking home from work. The
natural light is dimmed as the evening rolls around and the sun is slowly setting. Hence, I notice the
contrast of artificial light at the corner of my vision.
I turn my head to see tiny light bulbs flickering with an orange glow that’s warm and enchanting.
They’re each attached by a wire that strings them along the white picket fence that leads up towards
my house.
I’m eager to follow them, like an entranced moth drawn to the light, I pick up the pace towards home.
That’s when I see my house gorgeously decked out in the tiny light bulbs hung on the infrastructure
surrounding it. Almost like little fireflies that sparkle calmly against the growing darkness.
But what draws my gaze away is the individual on my left. Marco is standing on a metaldder, course I
never thought his exponential height needed one. Nevertheless, I examine him quietly as he’s
positioned by one of the streetmps, the main bulb has been removed whilst he tampers away at the
electrical wiring inside its structure.
His brows are narrowed in focus, the sweat on his shirt and the ruffled look to his hair suggest he has
been at it for a while. Course, eventually he notices me staring, gaze flickering up to me when he
realizes my presence. “You didn’t have to,” I say quietly, clearly aware he’s mending the broken light
fixtures after my ident the other night.
“It’s good to have proper streetlight, especially during the darker months of the year,” says Marco in a
logical manner, still focusing on the light fixture he was mending. “But it’s going to take a little longer to
fix, so those little string lights will do for the time being,” finally, his gaze flickers back up to me, and
although barely there, I swear I could see a small yful smile sneaking its way onto his face. “Plus, I
think ire would appreciate that no more of her favorite nts will get knocked over during the night.”
And just like that, his smile vanishes, and as if he’s never said a word to begin with, Marco returns to
working on the wiring. He leaves me smiling and encapsted in admiration, watching the silhouette of
him working as the sky grows darker.
The soft glow of the lights jogs my memory to the day I stood outside the Moon Goddess Temple five
years ago. When I first realized the lights had been fixed, the day when everything between us had
fallen into ce. The memory felt so simr and yet so foreign whenpared to now, and my eyes
can’t help but gloss over with moist sheen at the thought.