Lycan's Affection
Roses of War

Eleanor leaned over a bright red rose, her fingers tucking her hair back behind her ears. She moved closer, her finger dropping to slowly pluck off the flower.

“Something told me I would replace you here.”

She turned sharply, and Conaan was standing behind her, a small smile on his lips. It was quiet, as opposed to the ruckus in the main palace in preparations for the festival.

“I wanted to escape for a bit.”

He nodded. “Did I just foil your escape plan?”

“Mostly,” she said laughing. “I was planning to escape with you.”

Conaan smiled again, then gently helped her pluck off the flower, his fingers skillfully averting the thorns. She smiled as he gave the rose to her, then turned away again.

“I heard what happened with Lucas.”

He gave a small sigh. “I sometimes can not contain it.”

“And Lucas did not make it any easier for you, Conaan.”

He met her eyes this time. “I do not know. Something in me simply does not feel right.”

“Your Highness...”

“It is not you. Maybe I do need a break from being king.”

Eleanor’s eyes clouded with pity. “You have never said something like that before.”

He laughed. “Well, now I guess I have reached breaking point.” He smiled again, then walked slowly to the rose bushes. He took in a deep breath, somewhat unable to compensate for the gaping hole he felt, like he had lost something within him. Like a part of him has been chipped off.

“Your Highness.”

He turned, his brows slightly raised.

“Wait here for me.”

He nodded, and watched as Eleanor turned and walked away, her steps fast. She swiftly covered the distance, then climbed the stairs that led to the bedroom.

“Do you need anything, my lady?”

Eleanor stopped, then shook her head at the servant. “It is fine.”

The servant walked away and Eleanor entered the bedroom. First of all, she grabbed the large foamed blanket, then another sheet, and then lots of pillows. She wrapped them all up in the blanket, then pushed them into a bag, so it would be easier to carry. She then searched for a burner, and two different incenses, a towel, a bowl, lavender oil and lastly, a comfortable robe.

Piling everything into the bag, she pulled it, then carried it with great effort across the halls, and then down the stairs. She was almost breathlees by the time she took the rounds that led to the private gardens.

Conaan was still standing close to the roses, his head slightly tilted to the left, his hair falling behind him. Eleanor stopped just behind him, then let out a breath, her hand going to her waist.

Conaan turned, his brows slightly furrowed. “What is that?”

She shrugged. “You’ll see.”

He watched, his eyes curious as she unzipped the bag, then brought out her hoard of unlikely items.

His brows furrowed even more as she moved past him, so she was standing in the middle of the rose bushes. She put the blanket down first, then lay the sheet atop it, folding a little bit of it. She put the pillows around, then brought out the oils, and set the incense.

She arranged them, the oils to the side where she was standing, and she sighed, then looked up to him.

“I know you still have a few more things to do, and you are still king. But we have only three days to the festival, so let us...escape from the world right here.”

His eyes thinned a little, as they glided to her spread. “Right here?”

She nodded, then slowly pulled the robe she had gotten, holding it on her hand. “Right here, Conaan.”

He let his eyes skim around the spread again, before he gently nodded at her. Without hesitation, she held his hand, then led him towards the blankets.

He sat after her, amusement now filling his eyes where confusion had been.

“Here,” she said, handing him the robe. He looked up at her, a small chuckle escaping him.

“Surely, you do not want me to strip right here.”

“There is no one watching.”

He raised a brow. “Is that so?”

She looked up to him. “If you want me to do it instead, I would.”

He raised his brow. “I would love to see you try.”

She chuckled, then leaned forward to him, her left hand dabbing onto the blanket to keep her stable. Slowly, her fingers started to work out the buttons, and she started to remove them, one by one.

Conaan moved closer to her, his hand gently cupping her face, his eyes hooded as he sought her eyes.

“Your Highness...”

“Mhm?”

“You...you use the word love for everything else that I do, but not quite me.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She swallowed as she finally got to the last button, then gently sat back, her eyes meeting his.

“Well, you...just said that you would love...but...you never use that word with me.”

His robe came off his shoulders, and he watched her, a little amused.

“So you want to hear it?”

“I just...well, it just makes me wonder and...well...”

Conaan sighed, as she leaned close again, her hand dropping to his heart.

“I just can not stand lying to you, Eleanor.”

She turned, their faces a mere inch away, his breath hot on her skin.

“I would hate to tell you that and not mean it.”

She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

He moved further, his lips brushing the edge of her face. “Love could never ever feel so strong.”

She swallowed. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

He laughed, placing the tiniest kiss on her jawline. “You set me alight.”

Polaris had big torches lit up everywhere, as the soldiers trained well into the night, Alpha Alexander watching from the top of the balcony. His eyes were thin as he watched the troops, his fingers nipping at each other.

He wondered if they would really be enough for the war. Conaan might be sick, but he still did not want to take any chances. Especially since he was risking everything.

“Alpha.” Ian said, emerging from behind him.

“Yes?”

“Anderson has received the letter. They loosened up twice a day, and I delivered it. The festival is now in three days.”

Alpha Alexander nodded, then turned away. “Make sure everything is ready by tomorrow evening, and we will start the match.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

Alpha Alexander nodded, then walked away, leaving Ian to supervise the troops.