Lycan's Affection

Conaan stood in front of the mirror, a small smile playing on his lips as he took in the small flower petal that was still stuck on his shoulder. He slowly moved his right arm to remove it, then brought it to his eyes, his smile growing a little wide.

A small knock interrupted his reverie, and he covered his hand around the flower, then turned to the door.

Brandon walked in, then locked the door behind him. "Your highness. A petition has been sent to the court."

Conaan's face immediately fell. He hated those petitions. They always reflected the problems of the lycans and when he didn't get them, he could will himself into believing he had made the lycan territory satisfactory for the lycans.

"What is it about?" He asked, then started to walk to his laid out attire.

"Someone's mate got pregnant with another man. He is an omega and...well, according to her, she had been in love with the other man even before she found out he was her mate. She is four months pregnant."

Conaan stopped in his tracks, his fingers opening to let go of the petal. It fell to the floor, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip.

"She was in love with someone else before she knew she was mated to another?" He swallowed, his eyes starting to water up. "Like Eleanor?"

Brandon swallowed, but didn't affirm it. Afterall, Conaan had said the last part like he was talking to himself more than he was talking to Brandon. He simply came forward, then started to pull the clothes apart, helping Conaan with the robes.

Once he was fully dressed, he made his way almost reluctantly to the grand hall. A woman and a man were waiting, their knees on the floor.

The woman was calm, her hand on her knees, while the man was hysterical, his veins popping, his eyes red with anger.

It immediately quieted down once Conaan's arrival was announced, and he took his usual place in his rug. His position was more tensed however, and he felt his heart clench as he looked at the man.

Weirdly enough, he saw himself. The way he'd shattered. The way he had broken every day and Eleanor hadn't even been pregnant.

He swallowed and closed his eyes. He wouldn't lie, he had always imagined her with another man. Imagined her gaining happiness, pleasure from a man that wasn't him. It hurt like crazy. Even more than Alexander's poison.

"Speak," he fimally said, just as a whiff of Eleanor's strong smell filled the space. He turned to the front door and sure as hell, she was standing there, her hair up in a ponytail to expose the beautiful, fair skin of her neck. She was wearing the dress he had brought for her, her smile big as she sought his eyes.

His eyes soon met hers, and her smile widened even more, the twinkles dancing around her blue eyes.

He tore his gaze away from her, his fists clenching hard. Everything the man and woman said fell on deaf ears, his chest heaving hard. He closed his eyes, willing himself to stop, but it wouldn't.

"Forgive her," he said suddenly.

He raised his eyes to the couple who had stopped talking, the man's eyes now wide with surprise. He probably expected some sort of punishment, but Conaan slowly shook his head again.

"Forgive her, and I will reward you. The child will be taken care of by a caretaker I will assign myself. I will gift you both a place, and sustenance. If you would forgive her."

Eleanor's brows furrowed as she watched the scene. Suddenly, she felt someone violently pull her hand, causing her to turn.

Esmeralda stood there, her eyes wide. "Have you seen what you have done? That woman deserved no mercy! But Conaan would do anything as long as it involves you! I know, Conaan would have loved to take your first time. You can't lie that you were never once that werewolf's slut, just like that woman!"

Eleanor's lips parted slightly and she turned to the progression again. The man and the woman were now thanking Conaan, and they slowly walked out of the hall.

He sat there, alone, his eyes wide, yet neutral. He couldn't exactly tell what he felt, but it was conflicting, unpleasant and he hated it.

Slowly, he sat up, then brought his knees to himself, exhaling a little roughly.

Eleanor bit down on her lips, Esmeralda's words going over her head. She didn't even realize it when Brandon came out of nowhere and violently pulled Esmeralda away, leaving Eleanor standing there, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

Before she could decide on what to do, Conaan suddenly stood, then walked away.

The large fire torches burnt to break the darkness of the night sky, and Conaan stood in the midst of it all, a bow in his right hand. His right eye was half closed as he let go of the arrow, hitting bull's eye once more.

He heaved a small sigh, then pulled another and pushed it into the bow's string. Slowly, he got ready again, then pulled it back, his breath hitching to get the perfect aim.

He didn't quite get it as a hand came over his shoulder. He turned suddenly to Eleanor, and quickly moved his hand so the arrow passed right by her ear.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, lowering the bow, his eyes squinted.

"I came to see you. Just to have some private time with you."

He blinked rapidly, then looked up to her. "Have a seat."

She gave a small smile, then walked past him to the seat right next to the display of bows and arrows. She ran her hands along the arrows, then turned to him.

"Are these the ones you sharpened while waiting for me to wake up?"

He shrugged. "No. Those were disposed of."

"Why?"

He took an arrow and turned away. "My hands were shaky for fear of you not waking at all, or for what you would say when you eventually do. The arrows were not good enough."

She swallowed, sitting down as he let go of another arrow. She didnt have to check to see where it had gone.

"Earlier today, Conaan... You pardoned that woman. She was pregnant for someone else who was not her mate but you decided to pardon her."

He slightly nodded, then pushed another arrow in. "Because I know, with the way I feel, I will stand in front of my subjects someday and tell them I would be taking you for my wife. I do not intend to sound like a hypocrite then."

Eleanor felt her breath hitch in her throat, her knees melting under her. "Does that mean you have forgiven me too?"

"Anything to have you by my side," he answered simply, like it was obvious. Like it was easy.

But they both knew it wasn't. And even though he'd forgiven, a part of him would always remember. When he looked in the mirror. And sometimes even when he didn't.

Before she knew it, she made her way to him, then brought her hand to the other side of his face, then brought him to face her.

He yielded, his gaze soft even with the way his hair covered his eyes up, even with the scar.

He took her in, then suddenly let go of the arrow, sending it ripping through the air, and then right through the middle of an arrow sitting on the bull's eye.

"Conaan..." She whispered, moving closer to him, her other hand gently caressing his arm.

"Are you about to kiss me?"

She didn't reply, and he moved further to her. She didn't move, and let him cover up the gap. One hand cupped the small of her waist, the other slowly traced up her shoulder.

"What if I told you I am a little tipsy and I would prefer to be kissed till I am sober?"

She swallowed as his face slowly brushed hers, his fingers tracing up the skin of her neck, then up her cheek.

His slow breaths sent tingles to her skin, and she found herself arching forward, yielding to an allure she had realized only Conaan gave.

"What do you want?" She asked in a whisper, knowing quite well she was ready to give it to him. All of it. Her voice was breathy, and she sought more of his skin, more of his warmth.

"Kiss me till I am sober," he replied like he had thought of it all his life.

Her chest filled up and she moved her face upwards to meet him, her eyes fluttering to a close. She could feel the moistness of his lips slightly brushing hers, the heat, the infinite rush of pleasure.

"Just until you love me," he suddenly said, moving backwards a bit. "Kiss me when you love me, Eleanor. Don't delay it a second longer."

Her eyes opened, but his were still closed, his lips slightly parted like he still fully intended to take her lips. But she knew he wouldn't. He wasn't the type to have half, he would have it all.

Slowly, his head tilted to the right, his hand coming up to the nape of her neck, and he gently left a trail of kisses down her cheek, her jaw, then finally, sinfully, her neck.

And she knew she would reach for her ultimate goal. Soon enough.