Lycan's Affection
Depth of Obsession

Eleanor's eyes thinned as she straightened her aim, then prepared to release it. Before she could, however, the sharp blade of a sword cut through her upper arm, upsetting her balance.

She let go of the arrow and it bounded off, merely able to hit the second person with Alexander, injuring his side.

She fell to the floor, her hand torn, blood spurting out of it to the floor. Brandon turned from the two he had overpowered, his eyes wide.

"Eleanor?"

She gritted her teeth and looked up to see the person who had thrown the sword. He was standing all alone, a rather disappointed look on his face. It was obvious he had intended to do more damage.

"That bastard," she cussed under her breath and grabbed her fallen bow, wincing hard at the pain that shot up her arm and her side from where Alexander's heavy boots had come in contact with her stomach.

"Eleanor, I will..." Brandon started to say, but he had not finished the sentence when Dan suddenly fell on the floor, crushed under the weight of a majestic lycan wolf.

It was black and bigger than any Eleanor had seen, even hers that was way bigger than average.

"Is that...."

"His Highness," Brandon said with a small breath, one that suggested they were in deep trouble.

The wolf looked rather passive as it leaned close to Dan, sniffing around for a while. Eleanor started to move forward, as the wolf raised its head, straight to where Alexander was standing.

Alexander's eyes were wide in horror. He was barely standing, his blood running to his feet, his hand in his hair.

"No! Not Dan, please. Please!"

His horror was clearly painted in his voice, but it was all that Conaan's wolf had needed to hear, as it leaned slowly over the helpless, subdued man, then opened up its massive mouth.

The rows of fangs bounced off the retreating rays of the setting sun, and in one swift move, he closed in on Dan's head.

Alexander gave a loud, horrified shriek, falling to his knees, everything he had so meticulously planned, crashing right in front of him.

His assassins were all gone, and if he was not careful himself, the wound Eleanor had left was way too deep.

One forceful pull and Dan's head came off rather easily, bouncing off the wolf's mouth, and falling to the dusty sand.

It all went quiet, Eleanor's blood running cold. She had never seen Conaan's lycan before, but it was truly majestic, very much like its owner. It slowly walked off the decapitated body, and with nothing to the remaining three people there, it walked away, bounding off into the sunset.

Eleanor turned to Alexander, her eyes squinted. His wounded assassin however, came to him, forcing his limp. He pulled him off his knees, pulling him away from the ruckus, the both of them remaining as the only survivors.

"I will take you back. The soldiers will handle everything here."

Eleanor swallowed. "I have never seen his Highness's lycan. I did not know he was a black one."

Brandon nodded. "He is. His lycan is named Midnight, and it might be even more aggressive than His Highness." It made Brandon chuckle a little.

Eleanor swallowed, closing her eyes, the fatigue finally getting to her. Without a word, she let Brandon help her up to the ride, and it turned back, and headed towards the palace.

Conaan stood on top of the staircase, a simple, yet elegant white robe covering his body in his usual manner, his hair falling in waves, and some strands covering the scar. He was pristine, as if shifting had added to his glow.

Eleanor walked in, limping a little from the pain on her side, her hand covering her injured arm, her brows furrowed. Brandon walked beside her, and they were both ridden in dirt and sweat.

"Something inside me tells me my two closest people have betrayed me."

They both stopped in place at the bottom of the stairs. Brandon swallowed, unconsciously moving a step back, like he expected Eleanor to protect him.

"Your Highness, I..."

"Shut it, Brandon. How can you be so careless? Let the soldiers deal with the assassins. What if something had happened to you?"

Brandon swallowed. "I apologize. You were sick and...we thought it would be best to handle it ourselves. We apologize."

Conaan said nothing more as he carefully descended the stairs, then without a word to Eleanor, he gave Brandon's shoulder a squeeze.

"Thank you. But think of your safety first. That is the only way you should keep me safe."

Brandon gave a small smile and nodded, then turned to Eleanor. It looked like she was in bigger trouble than he was, and once Conaan let him go, he slithered away, to take care of a very important business he had in mind ever since after the discussion with Eleanor on their way to the city gates.

It had continuously gnawed at him. If she herself agreed to take a sacrifice to ensure Conaan's life, would it not be right to let her? He only needed to replace out the specifics of the sacrifice, and with or without Conaan's permission, he would tell her.

"Your Highness..."

"You are injured."

Eleanor swallowed, lowering her head. "I am sorry I did not tell you."

He watched her, a small wince passing his eyes as he saw the wound. "Let us take care of that."

She nodded and started to walk in front of him. He sighed, then held her back.

She turned, her eyes wide with curiosity. He did not say a word as he leaned further, then scooped her up in his arms and headed straight for the room.

She waited by the edge of the bed as he lit up the torches, then came back to her with a clean towel, ointment and bandage.

Slowly, he maneuvered for the zip of her shirt, then let it down until the sleeve came off itself, leaving her right shoulder and arm exposed, her hair falling behind the fair skin.

Her eyes met his, and he averted the gaze, willing himself to keep himself focused on his job.

He slowly dabbed at the wound to clean off the blood, and a small cuss left his lips once he saw the extent of the cut.

"I brought something for you."

He looked up, then gave a small sigh. "You wanted to give it to me so bad you thought of risking yourself?"

She slowly nodded. "Yes. I guess I wanted to show you that bad."

He swallowed and kept the towel, then started to move away. Her hand clasped around his wrist, keeping him in place, leaned to her, his eyes meeting hers.

"Eleanor."

She quietly pulled out the one bloodied arrow she had saved, the one that had gone in and out of Alexander's chest seven consecutive times.

"It is my loyalty."

Conaan's eyes squinted at the arrow. "You really do not have to do this."

"I know," she answered, as she dropped the arrow on the bed, her uninjured hand cupping the side of his face.

He visibly relaxed under her touch, and let out a small sigh.

"But I would rather wreck my body than wreck you once more. So here it is. Pierce me with the blood of a traitor on the very day I fail to protect us."

Conaan blinked slowly, not expecting any of what she had said, but he could not deny how good it felt.

How he felt that she was close to his depth of obsession. With this, he did not mind spiraling even further in.

His hand came up her neck and he moved so his face was connected to hers, his lips parting.

"You drive me so insane."

She nodded, each word applying to her like she had said it herself. "Me too."