Lycan's Affection

Eleanor adjusted a little, the aged moonlight pouring into the room. It would be dawn in no time, and then Conaan would wake, and his face would lose the silent peace. He could look happy, he could look angry, or just silent, but nothing beat the tranquility she found right now.

Her hand moved across his face, careful to make her touch so light it would further lure him to sleep. His hand around her was still tight, his eyelashes only moving slightly once in a while.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, before she opened them again. She had known he wasn't the type to take her tonight. Not while he still had to reassure her about another man. But she could not deny a little treacherous part of her had wanted him to.

Maybe it was for the best, and she knew even sooner than he thought, she would want it just as much. She moved her fingers through his hair, the silky strands falling slowly back, and she chuckled to herself again.

"Is it really that fascinating?"

She looked down, surprised, at the same tine trying to fight down the blush that rose up her cheeks.

"You are awake."

He finally opened his eyes. "You have been probing around my face, Eleanor. I was wondering if something was hidden in there."

She gave a small snicker to hide her blush. "I was just...well...it will be dawn soon."

He nodded, but visibly relaxed instead. She swallowed, then adjusted beside him. His body radiated an unholy heat, the kind that could make a completely sane woman lose all reins of modesty.

And Eleanor, especially, knew she could go wild for him.

"After the banquet, Your Highness, I hope my company would not be too tiring."

"Your company is always welcome, Eleanor. Have some faith in yourself."

She smiled gratefully, wrapping her hand around his as he seemed to drift off again, his lips sucked in. She watched him, his fingers still warm against hers as he slowly fell asleep again, his breaths evened out.

She lay there watching him till it was finally dawn, and the moon was now beaten by the light of the coming sun stretching its fingers across the sky.

Eleanor walked to the window to see the message one more time, her heart feeling less heavy this time around. With a small sigh, she walked away, leaving Conaan still asleep.

The entire palace was busy as servants walked around preparing for the banquet. Some worked on the household gifts, while others worked to clean the entire place.

Conaan gave a long sigh as the elegant robes were splayed out in front of him, Brandon by his side.

"You shoukd pick one for the first introduction where the subjects will wish you, another for the banquet, then for the rest of the night."

Conaan's brows furrowed. "The rest of the night?" He wasn't sure what that meant, since most times he left immediately after the banquet.

"Well...I believe this year there will be some event."

Conaan nodded. "The black one first. Also, how is Shadow?"

Brandon smiled, waving the servants away. "He is ready. I believe by the time Alexander gets here, he will have a reason to go back early."

Conaan laughed, tilting his head. "Make my day even better, Brandon."

"Definitely, Your Highness. Today belongs to you."

With another snicker, Conaan walked away to the bathhouse, leaving Brandon, a small mischievous going in his eyes.

The hall of convenience was filled with the lycans and dignitaries alike, waiting for King Conaan. The banquet was set, and the slow music kept their attention, each one roaming around.

The alphas sat aside, conversing in hushed tones about the status of amity, while Alexander just sat alone, his eyes thin as he took a sip of his wine.

The event was elegant, and he let his eyes roam the place, a small gesture of discredit showing in the way he turned down his lips.

He had made the journey early, and his gifts had immediately been checked, then taken with the rest of the gifts. Those gifts alone could make a treasury, he was sure, and he knew it would be still the same next year.

Damn Conaan.

He swallowed, letting the wine burn down his throat. At least, he had something that belonged to Conaan, and tonight, he would see her. He had intentionally not brought Ruth. He could not deny how much he missed Eleanor. With her beautiful hair and red, ever moist lips.

He wished he had taken more when he had the chance, but he knew today, he just might get lucky.

Eleanor watched as her hair was made into big curls that cascaded down the back of her dress, making the contrast even sharper. Dark make up was added to her eyes and it lightened up the blue swirls. She swallowed as she stood up, passing her hands over the silk, watching her figure in the mirror.

It was perfect, she knew, but she had never tried to do something like this for Conaan. It made her as nervous as she was excited, even though she knew Conaan would accept her anyway. Her eyes reached the tiara she had prepared to match with her dress, and she sighed again.

"Lady Eleanor, one of the alphas from the werewolves has requested to see you."

She turned to the lycan omega, her eyes thin. Alexander. She had almost forgotten he would be coming. Without an answer, she waved the woman away.

Slowly, she walked out, but instead of downstairs, she made her way to Conaan's room.

It was surprisingly quiet, and she went in, expecting him to not be there.

He was, however, and a servant was buttoning the robe up.

It was black, with embroideries of pure diamonds. His hair fell back in short waves, and this time, he didn't try to hide the scar.

With a small gesture, she waved the servant away. He bowed and walked away, closing the door behind him.

Eleanor walked up to Conaan who had his eyes closed, then fixed the last button. With her hands going up his shoulder to maintain some balance, she propped herself up, till they were almost eye to eye.

"You look perfect, Your Highness."

He smiled, opening his eyes, his hand wrapping almost instinctively around her waist.

"You think so?"

She nodded. "You are only short of a crown now."

He smiled, releasing her. The crown was on a padded pillow on his bed, covered by a glass case.

"I have never seen you wear it," she said, carefully putting the glass away.

She took it carefully with two hands, then made her way back to him.

"I do not have a use for it." She reached him, then leaned up to place it on his head. He was way taller, however, and the crown stopped right in front of his eyes, never even passing to his forehead.

He watched her struggle for a bit, his laughter rich and a little subdued.

"I give up," she said finally, letting herself fall back on her feet, a pout gracing her lips.

He gave a small smile, and then swiftly, his right hand holding hers, Conaan went on one knee.

Eleanor gasped, moving away, the crown still lodged between her hands.

"Yes?" he said, his eyes looking up to her.

She swallowed, feeling her chest swell with the feeling of importance. It was not the type royalty gave her. It was the type only Conaan could.

"A king does not go on his knees for anyone, Your Highness."

"His queen is an exception," he replied, like he had always thought of that answer.

Slowly, she moved back to him, placing the crown on his head, then tucked a loose strand of hair back. Her hands dropped to each side of his face and she leaned forward, her face leaning to him.

Slowly, she placed a kiss on his forehead, her lips warm against his skin, the immediate rush of heat compelling him to close his eyes.

She then leaned away, and he stood, towering above her once more. His hand gently caressed her neck, his fingers running along her jaw. He knew everyone was waiting for him, but they could wait.

"There is nothing I want to soil right now, more than your lip color." His voice was a whisper, his eyes swirling with dark intensity.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as he leaned forward, his eyes holding hers.

"But I am a patient man. And I will leave it for when the lip color will not matter. Then, I will happily have it all over me, Eleanor."

If his words made her weak, the way her name rolled off his tongue melted her. The kiss he left on her cheek was like fire to her soul, one that left her dazed up until he was gone, her legs threatening to give way under her.

"His Highness, King Conaan is approaching the hall of convenience!"

Everyone stood still, and the music stopped, each waiting to pay their respects. The strong lycan scent greeted them way before he finally did, and when he did, it was worth it.

People stood in both awe and jealousy of the man in front of them as he stood at the top of the large balcony, managing to tear their eyes away only did to the obligation of respect.

"Long Live His Highness, King Conaan!"

"Long Live!"

"Happy birthday, Your Highness!"

"Happy birthday!"

The cheers were deafening as Conaan raised his jewelry studded sheathed sword, his face carrying only the faintest of smiles, and a thick layer of pride.

The cheers rose even higher and changed to a cheering demand for a queen, something that happened every year. It used to make him depressed back then, but now, knowing very well he had just left her, it only made warmth spread in his chest.

"Lady Eleanor approaches the hall of convenience!"

Conaan turned, his eyes wide. He hadn't been expecting her, and when she finally came, he felt his heart skip a beat. She was wearing a tiara above her head, one that matched her dress, her smile bright, her steps elegant.

She walked slowly, like she knew how desperate he was to hold her near.

"Long live the Queen!" The cheers started again, almost deafening. The crowd was wild, as for the very first time, the queen was making her appearance.

She complemented Conaan by his side, his hand immediately wrapping around the small of her back, his eyes filled with pride.

"Long live the royal Highnesses! Long live!"

Conaan could barely hear it, as he turned to her.

"My queen." It was a small whisper, like he sought to convince himself too.

She nodded, meeting his eyes. "Your queen."