Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan Chapter 89
Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown
Chapter 89 Marco Comes
Tanya’s POV:
Dorian’s sinister smile prickles my skin with a sense of unease and difort. To once again face the
man who was first sent to k*il*l me unearths a primal fear within me. He’s like a predator, and I’m the
prey, a wide-eyed doe, helpless and alone, away from my herd.
This belongs ? N?velDra/ma.Org.
“Don’t be afraid darling. I’m not here to hurt you,” his remark is sly, and he knows that his statement
barely lessens the panic he’s induced, but he continues speaking anyways. “I only asked Eric to invite
you here.” I scoff breathlessly. “Invite isn’t the word I’d use.”
Title of the document
His lips upturn into a smirk. “But I’ve been so desperate to meet you. I need a favour,” I remain silent as
he exins his request. “I would like you to make a bottle of perfume for me. It’s all I ask for, nothing
more and nothing less. And you won’t be harmed.”
It’s his final sentence that sticks out the most. Either way, something in my gut tells me that this simple
perfume -knowing Dorian- must be something destructive. I can’t imagine him asking for anything else
other than something that can inflict pain or harm another. And I will not be involved in that.
“And if I refuse?”
The hybrid quirks a brow, almost as if expecting my refusal to grant him his wishes. He slowly steps
towards me with a patient smile. I flinch as his hand moves, but he only reaches up to stroke strands of
my hair away from my face, before lightly caressing my chin. My skin shivers at his predatory touch,
and he tilts my head back to look up at his towering figure as he changes the topic entirely.
“You are as beautiful as I remember. And I can imagine that gorgeous face of yours has charmed many
onlookers. I’m sure even Marco is drawn to your grace and beauty,” my body stills into frigidness as he
stares into my eyes. “What would happen if I took that away? Hmm? What if I carved a scar across this
untouched beauty?” he ces a finger at the right corner of my forehead and draws a single long line
down to the bottom of my chin. “Would Marco still love you? Would he still want an ugly wife with a face
covered in scars? Scars that would forever remind him that he failed to protect you?”
I stare up at him with frightened eyes, and I watch this arouse confidence and smugness in his
expression. “I will count down from three to one. And at the end, if you still refuse to make me the
perfume, I will carve my ws down your face,” but he doesn’t stop there. “And even after that, if you
still don’t agree, I will continue to count, and after every three counts I will make another sh across
your face.”
He chuckles darkly. “So much skin, so much beautiful, gorgeous skin for me to mutte. Show me if
you really cherish it.”
And just like that, Dorian starts counting down. His intentionally long pauses give me seconds to
decide. But I knew already, from the moment he threatened me, I had already decided. Marco would
love me no matter what, and I couldn’t aid evil. I would sacrifice everything if it meant I was stifling
Dorian’s ns. Whatever they may be.
And so, when Dorian reaches one, his eyes unnaturally widen when only my body trembles in
apprehension, while my lips still remain tightly sealed. And I can’t help but sense some form of anger
and frustration as heughs at me. “Fine. Then we will see how willing you’ll be once your face is
littered in scars.”
I shrink back and close my eyes as Dorian raises his hand, I feel the slight draft as his arm swings
forward. But instead of pain, all I hear is a loud ‘ding’. Instinctively I open my eyes to find something
glowing on my chest through the fabric of my jacket. Whatever it is has blocked Dorian’s magic and
protected me from harm. That’s when I remember the badge Mr. Barlow gave to me before he died!
If the hybrid was angry before, his nostrils re with rage now, ring at the glowing object. “Take off
the jacket!” he snaps but doesn’t give me time to react. Harshly he pulls off my jacket, before roughly
snatching the badge, snapping it off my sweater. “Barlow gave this to you?!”
He looks at me with disbelief and snorts. “That old man even cast a protection against ck magic on
this badge for you?” is it jealousy I’m hearing? I can’t really tell. All I know is that Dorian isn’t happy that
I have Barlow’s badge.
Of course, his disced appearance is quickly masked. He breathes in deeply and returns to having a
guarded expression, and asks me way too casually. “What sort of wretched corner of the world is the
old guy hiding in anyway?”
I can’t help the incredulous look on my face as tears spring from my eyes. “You were responsible for
poisoning the water, weren’t you? Shouldn’t you already know that Barlow died protecting us?” is he
just trying to hurt me by bringing Barlow up?
But something shifts in his expressionpletely. No longer does he have on a rxed fagade. Dorian
appears shocked, as if Barlow’s passing is news to him. He mutters coldly beneath his breath. “That
old guy is so powerful, how could he have died so easily?”
His gaze snaps to me. “You must be lying to me. Yes! You must be lying!” I’mpletely stunned, but
Dorian doesn’t give me a chance to speak. Obviously wanting to verify the truth, he fiercely throws my
badge to the ground and storms towards the door.
But just before he leaves, he turns back towards me, saying coldly. “Even if you’re unwilling to make
the perfume for me, I still have ways of getting what I want. I always get what I want in the end,” the
hybrid then ms the door shut, leaving me locked up and alone once more.
I’m left feeling terrified, wondering what hisst words mean. And my fears are only confirmed over the
next couple of days. Not only am I locked up, but I’m barely given any food to eat or any water to drink.
But that isn’t even the worst of it.
The day after my confrontation with Dorian, and every day after that, a person woulde into my
room, silent, ignoring my pleas, not conversing with me, barely baring me a nce. And I’m either
ordered or f*orc*ed to provide them my arm, using a syringe, they extract a tube of blood from my
veins.
Days past and I grow weaker and weaker. My throat dries, leaving my voice croaky and scratchy as I’m
parched for water. My body gets to the point where it no longer growls for food as its cries have been
continuously ignored, choosing instead to eat away at my muscle and fat as ast resort. And even
Freya, who usually converses with me with her lively joyous att*itude, fails to surface. And it makes me
wonder if I am close to dying.
As more blood is taken every day, I feel my will to live grow less and less. And now I barely even lift my
head as the door to my room opens. Although my werewolf senses have been nearly erased,
something awakens my sense of smell.
Something familiar.
I weakly lift my head, my eyes widening as Marco quietly enters the room, shutting the door before
rushing to my side. His eyes look drained and tired, but nevertheless grateful to see me.
“Oh Tanya, my beloved Tanya…”
He cradles me in his arms, and like you would with a baby, he rocks me back and forth to soothe me.
“What have they done to you?” he kisses my dry and cracked lips in desperate longing, whilst my
glossy eyes peer up at him. I smile.
“You found me,” I whisper.
“I looked everywhere. I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”
I shake my head, patting his arm tofort him. “You’ve found me now. And that’s all that matters.”
We sit huddled together for what feels like decades. Marco caresses me softly, whilst I hold his hand in
mine, cherishing his touch. If only we were not in this retched ce. If only we were far away, back
home, with my sweet little ire.
If only.
But reality eventually hits us like a ton of bricks. I can barely stand on my own two feet, and Marco is
trying to pick me up so he can carry me and help me escape. But those few short minutes of joy are
inevitably shattered as the door to the room opens once more. And Dorian, Eric and Lily stand on the
other side.