Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

Chapter 27

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown

Chapter 27 Celebrate Marco’s Birthday RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Tanya’s POV:

“I just don’t know what to do,” I mutter in defeat. “I don’t know how he would want to celebrate exactly, but I want to make it perfect for him.”

There’s a hesitant silence on the other side of the sheer curtain, and I stare at my hands, fiddling anxiously with my wedding ring as I proceed. Perhaps I’ve missed something?

Title of the document

“My husband… He’s very special, and everyone knows it. But I see more to him than high society and status. He’s the child of a surrogate, and his biological mother died when he was very young, just like me. My relationship with my stepmother was always strained, and my father never allowed me to celebrate my birthday.”

My father resented that I was born on a blessed harvest moon but didn’t manifest a wolf, so he considered my birthday a waste. Unlike me, Marco is very strong and powerful. I don’t think the king hurt Marco like my father hurt me. But there are many to damage a child. “I believe my husband has a complicated relationship with his own stepmother as well, and I don’t think his father cared enough about him,” I explain. “They don’t appreciate him enough. My husband deserves to be loved not just for what he is but for who he is. That’s why this celebration is so important. I want to show my husband that I truly see him for who he really is, and I want to prove to him that he is cared for. After all, everyone deserves to feel loved. And everyone deserves to be celebrated on their birthday, right?”

A brief silence again as the Mage reflects on my words. “You have very sweet intentions, young lady. Your gift should reflect such earnest affection, but I’m afraid I don’t know what to suggest. It is not my place to know what men desire. The best advice I can give you is to think of your husband’s needs. You probably know him better than most. What do you think is something missing in his life that you could give him?”

I pause for a moment, reflecting. What does the most powerful Lycan in the kingdom need?

A good night’s rest.

“Oh, I know! My husband suffers from nightmares and discomfort during the night. Actually, he even kissed me a few nights ago in his sleep.”

“What?!” the Mage asks, the voice suddenly deeper than it was a second ago.

On the other side of the curtain, I hear the sound of shuffling and thumping, as if there were some kind of battle happening beneath the Mage’s dark veil.

“Is everything okay?” I ask with concern. “Is there someone else over there?”

“Sorry? No! I mean, everything is fine,” the voice replies, the figure straightening up. “It’s just that it takes complicated magic with our wolf spirits for a Messenger Mage to… um… commune with the Moon Goddess. Yes. That’s it. It can seem a bit odd when we’re, uh, giving council.”

“Oh,” I say softly, not sure of what else I should say. “You were saying that your husband doesn’t sleep well?”

“Right, yes,” I say with a short sigh. “My husband has strange nightmares, and I think he’s not fully in control when he sleeps. He doesn’t even remember that he kissed me the other night. Of course, I

didn’t mind it, but I don’t want to bring it up and make him feel uncomfortable. So, I think the best thing I could give him is a gift to help him sleep better.”

It was perfect. Marco did so much for so many people, so for his birthday, I would give him the gift of rest.

I stay up late that night, working into the early hours of the morning in my little laboratory in the attic of the townhouse. I work quickly and carefully, brewing up the little potion that would help my husband sleep.

My conversation with the Mage at the Temple of the Moon Goddess was a bit odd, but it left me feeling determined and uplifted. The concoction bubbles as I add the fresh chamomile and sandalwood extracts to the lavender mixture in the beaker.

Before transferring the concoction to the bottle, I cast my mind back to my last attempt at a healing potion. For some incomprehensible reason, the ingredient that managed to magically stabilize the mixture was my blood. I’m determined to ensure this extraordinary perfume helps Marco, so I take a long needle and prick my finger. As I let my finger hover over the solution, a few droplets of blood trickle down and fizz as they come in contact with the potion.

Just like the first time, the perfume stabilizes, becoming clear and silky. The bubbles sizzle, and the steam clears away, replaced by a warm and soothing fragrance that’s just what I was hoping for. The scent is light and calming, and I actually yawn after inhaling it.

I hurry up and transfer the liquid into the special bottle

I’ve selected for Marco’s gift. The vial is made of blown glass, and the color is a lovely, deep shade of midnight blue that reminds me of a peaceful night sky. I attach the silvery little stopper and tie a single, shimmery black ribbon around the neck of the bottle. It looks lovely, and my heart swells with hope at the thought of how it might help Marco.

On the day of Marco’s birthday, I take extra time decorating the townhouse. I dim the lights on the overhead chandelier, opting for elegant candlelight around the main hall. The flames flicker and illuminate the golden balloons I’ve hung up everywhere. Gold like the crest of the royal family. Gold like the wedding ring on my finger. Gold like the sun that chases away the full moon that brings him so much trouble.

I’ve even managed to bake an elegant little cake with dark chocolate and orange zest. The rich, citrusy- sweet aroma of fresh baked goods fills the house, making it feel more like a home. The bottle of extraordinary perfume I made for him is in a little blue box decorated with black and gold ribbons. I smile as I imagine the look on his face when he arrives and sees it all, but I’m pulled away from my thoughts by a knock on the door.

I open it with curious cation. It’s a bit early for Marco to be back from work already, and he wouldn’t need to knock to enter his own home; he has the keys.

Lily and Eric stand on the doorstep, dressed in casual but elegant attire and holding a champagne bottle out to me as an offering.

“Tanya, hello. I hope we aren’t too early. Is he home yet?” Lily says, handing me the champagne bottle before I even have the chance to ask her what it’s for.

“Home yet? You mean Marco?” I ask, still shocked to see them.

“Yes, we received your invitation to his birthday party. The card you sent us said we’d be celebrating in his townhouse tonight.”

What card?

I’d actually hoped to celebrate privately with Marco tonight, and I certainly hadn’t sent out any invitations. Was I supposed to?

It’s too late to figure that out now. Eric and Lily are already here, and I can hardly send them away, so I stand aside and let them come in. Lily dons her usual polite smile, but there’s something else lurking in her eyes that I don’t understand. Even Eric looks somewhat uncomfortable as I lead them into the dining hall and set the bottle down on the counter next to the cake and the gift box.

It’s not too long before there’s another knock at the door, and I blink in surprise as Oliver and Ayana arrive. Like Lily and Eric, they both insist that they received an invitation to tonight’s birthday party addressed from me. Oliver hovers in the corridor, looking particularly strange and uncomfortable. I barely have enough time to figure out what any of this means before there’s a third knock on the door.

Marco’s sister arrives, and all I can do is usher her in with stunned silence. What is everyone doing here?

“Well, this is bloody awkward,” Cathy says, and by the looks on everyone’s faces, I can tell she’s not the only one who feels that way. “Why the hell are we having a party?”

Frankly, I’m not sure what any of them are doing here, but I smile at her politely, trying to be a gracious host.

“It’s Marco’s birthday, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But my brother doesn’t celebrate it. He never celebrates it. His birthday is on the anniversary of his mother’s death. Who wants to have a party on the day their mom died?”

My heart drops at the same time as a satisfied smirk appears on Ayana’s face.

No! She set me up. That’s why she told me about Marco’s birthday in the first place. She must have sent out all the invitations in my name!

I’m sick to my stomach at the thought of Ayana using the anniversary of someone’s death as a twisted prank. How could she do this? Not only to me but to Marco?

At that precise moment, I hear my husband’s voice outside, and the sound of a key jingling in the lock at the front door makes me panic.

“Hello? Tanya? I’m home.”