Lycan's Affection

Eleanor combed her hair, letting it down her shoulders. With a small sigh of satisfaction at her reflection, she adjusted the sleeve of her dress. It was a simple evening dress, one that flowed to her feet, her hair contrasting with the pure white as it flowed down her back.

She could see her bed, one that she had not used for so long. Conaan's bed was now hers, and she had never felt so in place.

It all felt stable now. Her resolve to be with the man she now knew she wanted. It made it all somehow fall into place, her heart coming to rest.

She slowly made her way towards his room. It was dark, and she walked towards the large arrangement of candles. She lit them up one by one casting the room in a warm, orange glow. A small smile lit up her face as she walked back to the bed, moving the sheets.

Suddenly, a click came at the door, and she turned to it, her eyes expectant. Conaan slowly walked in, his hair now damp from the bath, a white robe wrapped around him.

He held a towel to his right ear, slowly massaging it, and his eyes caught her.

"Eleanor?" His voice was low, and he kept the towel away, his brow raising.

She did not reply it, and simply stretched out her hands, beckoning to him. He didn't hesitate, and covered the distance, laying in her arms, his head resting on her stomach.

She broke into a smile, lacing her hands in his slightly damp hair.

"How do you feel?"

Conaan thought for a while, closing his eyes. "Warm."

"I did not think you knew about Three Moon's affiliation with Alexander. It is quite..."

He raised his head slowly, letting his eyes meet hers. "You are not going out of your way to prove yourself to me, are you?"

Her brows furrowed. "No, Conaan. But these five days, I realized that...that I just might not be enough for you."

"Eleanor..."

"But still these five days I realized, Conaan that I will not be able to see you with anyone else. These five days was torture. Your scent, your words hanging around. And Conaan...if you can be soft for only me, why can I not be strong for you?"

Conaan let his eyes dart across from hers, absorbing every need, every word.

"It feels like the first time."

She nodded, her hand coming up his arm, then his shoulder. She slowly cupped his face, leaning forward, his hands falling to her side.

"I have been on the fence far too long, been back and forth a little too much. I realized you deserve more and I am ready to give it to you. Funny enough, all you want is the real me. I do not know how anyone would love that temper but..."

He suddenly moved to her, his lips slowly parting, the outlines teasing her cheek, and the corner of her lips.

"We are making this work, are we not?"

Eleanor nodded, now holding on to the delicate skin of his shoulders.

"Yes. I want this just as bad."

He gave a small smile, his finger playing with her hair. "If I ever hurt you, slit the other eye."

She let out a small laugh. "Don't tempt me."

He smiled again, then slowly went back to the comfort of her stomach, his head resting on it. Silence fell between them, comfortably settling within the warmth.

Slowly, she felt as his breath evened out, his grip on her waist loosening a little. With a small smile, she leaned forward, her hand cupping a side of his face, her fingers moving against his skin.

He was soft, beautiful under her hands, and she knew for sure now that she was done running. He may be a monster in his own right, but she had been too blind to realize she was too.

He was a monster, but he was her monster. Her lycan.

Finally giving into the temptation she had tried so hard to resist, she leaned forward to him, then moved his hair back, placing a small kiss on his forehead.

It wasn't quite enough, and she moved lower, leaving a trail of small kisses on his skin, till she reached the ultimate prize.

She stopped just an inch away from his lips, however, a small smile creeping up her face.

"I do need permissiom for this, do I not?"

She slowly started to pull away, when he held her back, bringing her close.

"You have it," he said, propping himself up on his hands.

He slowly took her lips, his other hand keeping her head in place, his lips moving to the slow, sensual rhythm of the music she played to him.

She knew how he tasted. He was no stranger, but he always kept her on her toes, basking in both familiarity and a new allure. Of danger. Of love. Of desires.

Matthew watched as Eric folded his new letter and replaced it with the original one. The letter Alexander had penned himself was now thrown into the only cackling fire in the dungeon, burnt down to nothing but ashes.

"Thank you, Eric."

Eric nodded. "I am setting off at the crack of dawn. I will make sure it reaches one of them."

Matthew nodded, then watched as his childhood best friend walked away, leaving him in the torture his own brother had subjected him to.

With a sigh, he sat back on the floor, bringing his knees to himself. He never thought it would come, but now he hoped so much that Alexander would fail miserably in Conaan's face and maybe, just maybe he would have his brother back.

Not the maniac who cared for nothing else but his obsession with defeating a man who was clearly not written to be defeated.