Chapter 47

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown Chapter 47 I Leave You For Money Tanya’s POV:

The car Lily has arranged to take me away feels like a portal. It is like I have been living in my own made-up fantasy land. Where I have been someone important, a princess, married to a prince. I have lost myself in this dream, that felt so real. And now…. I am being f*orc*ed to return to the real world, to a place where I am nothing and no one.

The car hasn’t made it far till my eyes are f*orc*ed to flicker up to look into the rear-view mirror. I see the familiar figure of Marco, and he’s running, chasing after me with all his heart. I think that he’d eventually give up and let me go, but he doesn’t. He just keeps running, and I can’t bear it anymore.

Title of the document “Stop. Stop the car.” The car screeches to a halt.

“Just give me a minute to sort this. I’ll be back.” The driver simply nods his head before I exit the vehicle. As I walk towards Marco, I mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to say. It has to be believable.

“Tanya, where are you going?” despite the calmness of his voice, I can sense the slight concern hidden beneath as he steps towards me. “Has something happened, is there something urgent you need to attend to?” all are valid questions, as if I have just forgotten to tell him, as if I would be back later this evening and all would be right in the world. But that is far from the reality…

My expression sharpens like never before, I huff, trying to sound irritated. “Marco. Go back to the palace.” I clench my fists. “You shouldn’t be out here. You can barely run without risking the curse overtaking you. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But where are you going?”

It pains me to see the concern in his features, and his surprise as I remain cold and detached in my responses. If I let the pause last any longer, I fear I’ll break, so I continue berating every ounce of his existence, even though it tremendously hurts every fiber of my being.

“Listen very clearly Marco. You’re dying. You can barely look after yourself, let alone protect me. You’ve lost all your strength,” I say, trying to sound as if I only wanted him for his strength and power. My lips dip harshly as I portray my fabricated disappointment in him. “There’s no benefit for me to stay. I don’t want to be stuck here looking after you. So I’m taking the money the King offered me. And I’m leaving.”

I watch the realization shine into his eyes as I say my peace, in response he shakes his head incredulously. “No. You wouldn’t. You’d never do such a thing. That’s not who you are Tanya.”

Marco is right of course. I haven’t even taken the money from the King when I chose to leave, it doesn’t feel right. And my husband knows that. But I can’t let him know the truth.

“Do you think it’s easy looking after you? Your curse is a crippling disease. I’d waste years of my life looking after you, before you’d eventually die. What then have I lived for?” God it hurts everything within me to see his anguish as I express his weakness, but it is the only way I a*s*sume Marco would believe my actions, that I’m not interested in staying with him through his suffering.

“But- but what about our child? Please, even if you don’t love me. Stay for our future child, don’t let them grow up without a father. I’ll do whatever it takes to overcome this curse.”

I’ve never seen Marco so desperate, never seem so willing to drop his guard and lay out his heart to anyone. The pleading in his voice is a knife to my heart as he holds my hand, trying to create some form of connection between us that I made him believe is lost. And I must continue making him believe it’s lost, i It takes all my willpower to snatch my hand away from his hold in a ruthless display. “Our marriage is a contract, Marco. It is nothing but a piece of paper, it can never replace true love… I need to live my life, I can’t forever live in your shadow. I’m going to abort the baby.” His eyes widen, true despair wrenching its way through his expression, but I f*orc*e myself to continue. “And if you aren’t selfish, you’ll let me go. Now I need to leave, the driver is waiting.”

I’m filled with torment as my words spit like venom and stink of repulsion. I want to take it all back, every damn word. But I can’t. Not when it might just save his life. I watch the pain infiltrate his gaze, I’ve hurt him so much that I see the sadness swelling into his features, and I have to run to the car to stop my fabricated lie from shattering then and there. But even then, he tries to stop me.

“No, Tanya wait! Please! We can work through this together. This isn’t like you! Please Tanya, let’s just talk.” I throw myself into the car, slamming the door shut and telling the driver to get on with the rest of the journey. I watch Marco’s actions turn into one of desperation, he pulls at the locked door handle, trying to talk to me through the car window, and picks up pace as the car does too trying to run alongside me and yell through the window.

And I am f*orc*ed to watch in horror as Marco is left behind, still chasing after me with every fiber of his being, never giving up, calling out my name before the nightly fog blurs him out of view.

By now I can’t contain my sorrow. I don’t care about the driver’s presence. The tight chain on my feelings unleashes, and I let out soft sobs of utter despair. Tears stream down my cheeks and I pray that this is all worth it. I pray through my painful sorrow, that Marco gets to live.

Lily’s POV:

Tanya’s a terrible actor…

But at least Marco has to believe it. And that’s all I truly care about.

What I am surprised to hear whilst watching the excruciatingly dramatic soap opera, is that Tanya is pregnant with Marco’s child. I watch her car disappear out of my view, and I come to the conclusion that I can no longer let her go as I originally planned.

Even though she told Marco that she’d abort the child, I know she’d not. No way. And if she gives birth to Marco’s baby, then there would always be a connection between Marco and Tanya. And I couldn’t allow that to happen.

My eyes gloss with realization of what has to be done to ensure my control over Marco and the throne.

Furthermore, with Tanya still alive, Marco would never let her go mentally, she’d somehow slip back into his life, and I couldn’t allow that.

I watch him now in an irritation as he chases Tanya’s car. So much determination in his blazing blue eyes. The sky suddenly erupts with thunder, opening the heavens to release a downpour of rain that whizzes down like bullets. But Marco keeps running….

Thankfully, he doesn’t get far, eventually the curse crawls up upon him like a dark disheveled shadow.

And I watch him stumble from the pain, he slams down onto his knees, gazing endlessly with empty optics at the road head.

His once golden hair is now darkened by the rain, laying lifelessly flat against his head, no longer showing any of its former sheen. While his clothes soak through and drip sadly with w*etness. Gone is his pride that I’m used to seeing in Marco, the man that always holds his head high no matter the situation, always portraying strength in all matters that concern him.

Now however, he looks disheveled and displaced. Completely at a lost, not caring that he’s being drenched by the torturous clouds above.

Again, the curse strikes at the silver line that’s reached his shoulder, making him flinch and cry out, before he eventually collapses in the middle of the street, passing out beneath the troubled sky.

Tanya’s POV:

The car windows that are blurred by the rain, mirror my vision as tears silently run down my cheeks. I wrap my arms round myself, unable to bare the cold. All I can do is try to numb myself to the events of today. I settle down in the back car seat, eventually succumbing to my own exhaustion.

I eventually stir when I realize we’ve stopped, thinking we’ve arrived at my destination. But when my eyes flicker open and I’m met by something far worse.

My eyes widen in panic as the driver leans over to me from the front seat. A wicked smile is on full display as his arm outstretches, showcasing a werewolf claw that inches towards my neck with clear intent to k*il*l.