Lycan's Affection

Conaan stirred to his right, as he let out a small breath. "What is it?"

"I came to check on you," Brandon said, his voice light. "It is way past your normal time. I wanted to make sure everything was fine."

Conaan's eyes slowly opened, and he let himself sit up, his chest heaving a little. He turned to his side, but it was empty, and not even slightly ruffled. It made him wonder if it had been his imagination.

"I saw her leaving, your highness," Brandon said with a chuckle.

Conaan sighed, then peeled himself off the bed. "Any developments?"

"I have deployed Shadow to Polaris. He will report to me once he gets there. Also, the elders will be arriving in three days for the annual council meeting with you." His voice got a little darker at the last sentence, and Conaan who had been pushing his hair back into a bun turned to him, his eyes slightly squinting.

"What is wrong?"

"Well, your highness. You know how all the past meetings have been. About your mate. I do not think they will accept Eleanor either."

Conaan gave a dark chuckle. "You talk as if they have a choice."

"Well...even after everything about Esmeralda came to light, they still preferred her over Eleanor who, to them had lost her chastity to a werewolf. You do know what they say."

Silence reigned over them for a long while, and Brandon cleared his throat.

"Well, I know they will understand and try to..."

"Try to?" Conaan's steely voice cut through Brandon's speech. He turned to him, his brow raised. "It is Eleanor or no one else."

Brandon nodded as Conaan walked past him, his steps graceful and smooth.

Eleanor fixed her dress around her. It was now dirty from the strife of escaping and everything else, but she had nothing else to wear. She gave a small sigh and lifted her eyes to the window. It was overlooking the entire pack, and she gave a small smile.

The pack was beautiful. Dark, yes, foggy and cold. But beautiful nevertheless. The tall trees sprinkled with snow looked something out of a movie. Large medieval style buildings that served to accommodate every lycan dotted the large expanse.

The street dances and music, the market places. She wondered why she had thought it was wise to leave here for anything else.

"Beautiful, do you not agree?"

She turned swiftly, and Conaan was standing by the door, his upper body resting on the door frame, his eyes thin.

He watched her with intent, his eyes blinking slowly. She stared at him for a minute. He looked like he had just gotten out of the bath house, his hair still slightly damp. Somehow, a petal stuck on his hair and the top of his shoulder, and it made her smile a little bit.

His hands were tucked into the pockets of his trousers which was the only piece of clothing he was wearing.

"Conaan."

"The nerve of you to leave like that." His voice was light as started to walk slowly, and she caught a glimpse of someone behind him.

"Well, I was..."

His head tilted to the side as he finally got to where she was standing. "Yes?"

She swallowed hard. She hadn't really wanted to leave, but she didn't think he would want her there that morning. He'd specifically said he hadn't forgiven her just yet too. That hug was, according to what he said, more for him than for her. No matter how much she had liked it.

But the way he was looking at her now, his eyes dark through his lashes, his lids closing up ever so slowly, swirls and swirls of intensity buried deep in his eyes, it set her on fire.

A fire she couldn't yet understand.

"Did you hope I would come instead?"

She shook her head. "No, I..."

"Then am I not welcome?"

"No, Conaan. I just..." She trailed off again, then gave a small breath.

He gave a small, almost unnoticeable smile, then turned to the door. "I brought you something, Eleanor."

Her eyes widened a little. "For me?"

He didn't reply, as a few servants walked in with boxes and boxes in their hands. They set them on the bed, then walked away, closing the door behind them.

Eleanor swallowed hard. At least then, the door had been open. What would she do now that it was closed?

Conaan said nothing as he went to the first box. It was marked, and she noticed it was the only marked one.

Gently, he opened it, then brought out a dress. It was a light purple dress, and he walked over to her again, his eyes soft.

"I could not quite wait till I was fully robed myself."

She turned away as he came behind her, then brought the dress in front of her. She felt her breath stop in her throat as his scent hit her, mixed with a slight hint of lavender and rose.

It was an intoxicating smell, and she slowly turned her head to him, her face slightly grazing the side of his.

If he noticed it, he didn't say a word, and he straightened the dress in front of her. She could feel his breath catch as his fingers circled around her neck, leaving little wild fires in their wake, as he pushed her hair away from her shoulders.

He moved away slowly, then gave a small sigh. "I thought it would look beautiful on you."

She turned as his hands dropped away from her, then held the dress instead as she met his eyes.

"Conaan, I..."

"I will see you later, Eleanor." He seemed almost desperate to leave, and she could sense the tension that came with losing control. His eyes did tell her that he would want nothing more than to be able to lose control right now.

He started to walk away when she held back his arm. He turned, a bit of surprise in his eyes.

She said nothing as she covered the distance again, then gently picked off the flower petal in his hair.

She brought it to his eyes and he looked down, then burst into a smile, his eyes crinkling with humor.

Eleanor willed herself to laugh too, but somehow caught herself instead, mesmerized by the rich sound of his laugh, and the way every emotion she had come to associate with him dissipated to make way for that one beautiful smile.

It made her heart race, and her knees weak, and she struggled to bring herself to focus.

"I will see you later," he said again, this time a bit more affirmative, almost like a promise. His smile still remained and Eleanor nodded, breaking through one string of his enchanting webs.

She stayed there, watching his naked back as he walked away, until he was gone, the petal that still smelled strongly of him lodged between her fingers.