Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

Chapter 22

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown

Chapter 22 His Memories With Lily

Tanya’s POV: This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I wish I could spend forever like this dancing with Marco. But all too soon, the song ends, and the crowd turns to the ballroom’s main door as the Lycan King and Queen arrive. Everyone except for the royal family bows at their arrival. My gown swirls around me as I curtsy alongside the others, but I catch a glimpse of the Queen. She stands tall beside her dignified husband, but I’m surprised to see her eyes fixed on Marco. Her gaze is so filled with hatred and envy that it sends a chill down my spine as the King motions for everyone to rise.

He stands at the edge of the balcony, officially welcoming his guest to the palace to celebrate the Autumn Equinox. Then, he gives a short but eloquent speech about the changing of the seasons throughout the kingdom and the fall harvest.

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Once the King is finished speaking, everyone disperses, and Marco is called by the Lycan King to have a talk. The ballroom feels far too large and crowded without Marco by my side, so I quietly slip out one of the small corridors. The palace is enormous, each corridor grander and more ornate than the last, and I wander around and take in the sights. I don’t head in any particular direction, simply enjoying a bit of peace and quiet away from everyone in the main hall.

I find a pleasant little window nook and sit by the edge, admiring the night sky outside through the glass panes.

The curtains hanging by the window make the space feel cozy and intimate, and I think I’ll sit here for a while before exploring some more. However, my absentminded little tour of the palace is interrupted by the sound of voices approaching.

“I cannot approve of your marriage to that girl,” the voice says.

My heart races as I realize it’s the King talking. He and Marco walk casually down the corridor, oblivious of my presence on the little ledge behind the curtains.

“She is a surrogate’s daughter with no legitimate bloodline. I had one of my men dig into her past, and not only is she an omega, she never manifested a wolf!” the King goes on.

Marco’s answering laughter is hollow and sarcastic. “It’s a bit late for you to disapprove, seeing as I’m already married to Tanya. Besides, what exactly are you dissatisfied with? The fact that she’s an omega and an outcast? Or that she’s a surrogate’s child just like me? Because from where I’m standing, it seems to me like we’re a perfect match.”

The King’s furious growl chills me to the bone.

“Watch your mouth, boy! You know full well that you are not just a surrogate’s child. You are the son of my fated mate. Even if everyone thinks Eric must be the next Lycan King, you should know that the day your curse is cured, I will declare you as my heir. I will definitely find a cure for your curse, let that weak girl leave you in a hurry!”

“You mean I’m the son of your rejected fated mate,” Marco spits back at his father. “My mother loved you. She may have only been the humble princess of a small kingdom, but she left everything behind to be with you.

You took her innocence and had a child with her, but you refused to marry her.”

The pain and rage in Marco’s voice make my heart ache, even as my mind reels with the information he’s revealed. Everyone believed Marco’s mother was just a random surrogate. The King must have kept the truth secret!

“Even when her kingdom was destroyed, and her family was k*il*led, my mother stayed by your side, and you did nothing to help.”

“I was just a prince at the time. I had to think of my own kingdom. Marrying an alpha’s noble daughter as my queen was the best way to protect Mador.”

“You chose strength and power over the love of a fair and gentle woman who adored you. You declared that I was a mere surrogate’s son instead of admitting I was the illegitimate child of your fated mate because you valued your throne more than your family. My mother was beautiful, inside and out. She was loving and kind, and you let her die alone, thinking she didn’t deserve you when the truth is you’re the one who wasn’t worthy of her.”

I have to raise my hands to my lips to stifle a shocked gasp. The two of them walk right past the window nook without noticing me, too caught up in their argument to realize I was there. The last thing I hear as their footsteps fade is Marco’s voice, distant but determined. “You are my King and my father, but I am nothing like you. Even if I weren’t cursed and you gave me the throne, I would never be like you. I can get that place by myself, and I will never sacrifice my wife.”

“Tanya, there you are.”

Lily’s voice startles me so much I nearly jump out of my skin. After Marco and the King left, I started to make my way back towards the ballroom.

“Sorry, I was just exploring the palace. Is everything okay?” I ask, still shaken by everything I just heard.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. This is your first time in the palace, right? I thought I’d give you a little tour,” she says with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, that’s very kind. But I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Not at all, I insist,” she says, taking my hand before I can protest. “Besides, I can show you Marco’s room here in the palace. Surely you must be curious about your husband’s old living quarters.”

Now that she mentions it, I am curious to see the place where Marco lived before he moved to the townhouse. But going there without him feels invasive.

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to go? I shouldn’t intrude,” I mumble.

“Nonsense. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t have the key to his room if I wasn’t allowed to use it.”

Lily leads me through the palace until we reach a large set of double doors. We pause at the entrance, and she presses a heavy iron key into my hand before nodding towards the door.

“Go on, make yourself at home. I’m going to rejoin the party and attend to some guests, so feel free to have a look around. Take as much time as you want,” she says with an encouraging nod before walking away.

Hesitantly, I slide the key into the lock and push open the heavy doors.

The bedroom is larger than the entire apartment I used to live in, in my small town outside the capital. It’s not as cozy as the townhouse, with its elegant architecture and antique furniture, but it’s undeniably beautiful. I walk into the room, slowly taking in the sights. Next to the expensive-looking double bed, there’s a wooden nightstand with several picture frames. Each photo shows Lily and Marco together, smiling happily at each other.

On the other side of the bed, there’s a matching nightstand with more pictures, and I realize there are two of everything. Two matching cups are on the table by the window and two sets of towels in the bathroom with Lily and Marco’s initials embroidered. Across the room, there’s a counter with a ceramic vase containing a bouquet of lilies that have since died and dried out, but between the crisp old petals, there’s a note from Marco addressed to Lily.

I find a pink scarf lazily tossed on the lounge chair that Lily must have left behind from her last visit and an earmarked fashion magazine on the counter. I can tell that this is a place where she felt comfortable and at home, and Marco clearly made the space for her. Lily’s presence is all over the room. I feel impossibly small compared to this monument to their relationship.

The space is filled with memories they must have shared, evidence of years they spent together. The more I look around, the more apparent it becomes that this room is a testament to Lily and Marco’s relationship. There’s a small layer of dust covering multiple surfaces as if no one- not even Marco- had dared to disturb the treasured memories that littered every corner of the room.

I walk towards a grand piano on the other side of the

room. On the music stand, there’s some unfinished sheet music and scribbled notes in Marco’s handwriting. At the top of the paper is the handwritten title Lily’s Lullaby in D Minor. He’d composed entire sonatas for her, and I didn’t even know he played the piano.

There is so much history here I could never compete with. Every intimate detail of the room feels like a knife in my heart. The iron key Lily gave me is heavy in my hand. I feel like I could shrink into myself until I disappeared completely, leaving no trace behind.

I walk out of the room, gently closing the doors behind me as I’m crushed by the sensation of loss and defeat. I can’t go back to the ballroom and face the crowd of cold faces that would be waiting for me, so I head outside, desperate for fresh air and a change of scenery.

But even as I walk away, my mind is filled with echoes of what I heard and flashes of what I saw. The memory of that room plays over and over in my head, even when I close my eyes. I’m flooded with the image of the dead flowers, those lilies looking painfully beautiful even when dried out and forgotten. I can’t shake away the thought of Marco’s words on the tender little note;

‘For my fated love, Lily

Forever yours, Marco.’

She’s his fated mate, I’m not.