Lycan's Affection

Eleanor slowly leaned in to Conaan, his scent, beautiful, manly, alive. His eyes drifted to a close before she even got to him, her hands slowly moving his hair away.

"My King," she whispered before slightly reaching to hold him, her lips grazing his forehead in a sweet, short, longing kiss.

He let out a small sigh as her lips trailed slowly down to his eyes, then the space between them. It didn't feel like he hadn't been around for months. It felt like she had only briefly been away from him, and everything he had made her feel before that was very much alive. Very active. Very passionate.

Slowly, her hand dropped from his face to reach for his hand. Gently, she brought it to rest on her stomach, her eyes opening briefly.

His eyes slowly opened to meet hers, and in her eyes were confirmation of the vague words Brandon had said.

No words were exchanged for the longest time, and his chest slightly heaved, his eyes slowly filling.

His fingers curved on her stomach, a tear escaping his eyes as he took her features in. His lips parted slowly, his chest heaving, tears now streaming down uncontrollably.

"Are you really carrying my child?"

She bit down on her lips and then slowly nodded, her eyes covered with a layer of tears too. "Yes, Your Highness. We are having a child together. A product of love. Of passion. Of all of the forgiveness that you have given to me that I now have a hard time believing that I deserve."

Conaan took in a sharp breath, his eyes dropping to her stomach. He couldn't believe he would watch the only woman he had ever lived heavily Lydden with his child. It felt surreal, beautiful beyond anything he had ever prayed for.

"What have I done so right, Conaan? Despite everything, every time I have wronged you, every time I have gone against your wish, you are still here, with me. You defied death for me. You defied mate bonds for me."

Conaan gently cupped her face, his lips parting. He didn't say a word, couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he leaned in to a kiss that was long overdue, heavily needed, and beautifully welcome. Tears immediately ran down Eleanor's closed lids, her hands lightly resting on his shoulder, her world seeming to stop to capture this moment.

She needed to hold this moment forever. To cherish it as long as she lived. Her lips parted for him like the first flowers of spring, his taste filling her like the first rains of autumn.

When he broke away, she was convinced she would never be able to get enough.

"Thank you," he whispered, holding her stomach 4 delicately. "Thank you so much, Eleanor. I will protect our child. I will love you. In all of the languages, you need to be loved. You do not have to deserve me. I am the one who needs to toil for your love."

She shook her head. "If there is anything true, Conaan. If the heavens believe a word I have ever uttered, then it is that I love you." Her hands ran across his face. "I love you, Conaan. More than my own breath. Thank you for letting me love you. Thank you for being the man I fell in love with."

Conaa melted into her embrace, his eyes closing, a sigh leaving his lips as he found home yet again.

The palace gates opened with a loud screec, admitting the crew of fifteen elderly men. They were dressed in their royal robes, and the head of the crew marched forward, urging them on.

The soldiers blocked the main entrance, and a royal guard came forward.

"His Highness is not seeing anyone."

The front man gave a chuckle. "You think we are fools? His Highness is nothing but a vegetable! Move!"

"His Highness is not a vegetable, and he will not admit you," said the guard, his fingers tightening around the sheath of his sword. "Leave."

The man's eyes thinned, and slowly, he turned to his henchman in the crew. Suddenly, the man drew a sword, unarming the two guards and holding the last in front of the blade.

"Cast him away. We will have no use for him when we take over the palace."

There were grunts of approval, but the guard suddenly broke away from the henchman hold and bolted into the palace.

Without a heed, he went straight up to the royal chambers and knocked frantically, his breaths short.

Eleanor turned to the door, then slowly broke away from Conaan.

"Let me check."

Conaan gave a small nod, then watched as she walked to the door, then opened it. His brows furrowed as the servant fell in front of her, his chest heaving, a small cut on his neck.

"Your Highness. Your Highness... the former..." He trailed off as he looked up to the room and met Conaan's eyes.

Conaan raised a brow, then tilted his head slightly upwards, urging the servant to speak.

"Your Majesty... the... the former council members... they are here. Forcing their way in and..."

Eleanor gave a sigh. "I will handle it. Lead the way."

"Eleanor," Conaan said, moving the sheets.

"No. You have just woken up. I will slay them if need be."

He nodded slowly, and she turned around and followed behind the servants.

Simon was sitting on Conaan's usual position, his eyes set in determination as Eleanor emerged.

"That is His Majesty's seat."

He gave a chuckle. "Ask him to come down and take it, then. If he can."

The rest broke into manic laughter, prompting Eleanor to draw her sword, her eyes twitching from anger.

"Get out of His Majesty's seat."

Simon's humour slowly disappeared, and he stood up, then slowly covered the distance. He raised his eyes to the henchman behind her, who knew exactly what that meant.

Before Eleanor could move, the henchman had rid her of the sword, and Simon grabbed a fistful opof her hair, pulling her back to him.

"You little wench. You are the reason we left the palace. Now, where is Conaan? Beg for the vegetable to come save you. Beg for him cause that is all you can do when..."

Conaan's knife suddenly passed between them, causing a rush of blood to splash and further tint Eleanor's hair. Simon fell back to the floor, his blood gradually filling the floor beneath Conaan's feet.

"Y... Your Majesty."

He gave a smile as the rest took steps backwards, a few of the weaker ones immediately going on their knees. Gently, he wrapped his hand around Eleanor and brought her back to him, his bloodied hand dripping.

He placed a small kiss on the right side of her forehead, easing the short scare she had gotten.

"You remember me. How very lovely."