Lycan's Affection
Her Worship of a Man

Alexander swallowed hard, before he let out another guttural yell, his body trembling. His body was covered in sweat, his mouth filled with a cloth to muffle the yells as four healers worked on treating his wound.

Eric stood by the door, his eyes thin. The yells kept coming till the healers were done, and they slowly started to back away.

"How is he?" He asked one of them, his voice low.

"It is critical. Worst case scenario, it might not heal and it could get infected. He might never...well. The best is...well, he can lose the use of his left arm."

Eric slowly nodded as she slowly walked away, leaving him pondering. He went into the room, and Alexander was heaving, his breaths short, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

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The wound was deep and had opened up even more. Just a little lower and Alexander could have had no way of making it. He had lost so much blood too.

Eleanor held her breath as she lay on her side, her injured side facing up, her eyes fixed on Conaan. He had gotten her a change of dress, and was currently dampening a towel, his lips sucked in a little.

She found her eyes gliding over his profile, her chest heaving with all of the distractions.

He suddenly turned and she looked away, clearing her throat.

"Are you alright?"

She swallowed and nodded. "Yes."

He nodded, then walked gently to her. "Tell me if it hurts."

She swallowed yet again, finding herself continuously running dry. He came behind her, his knees pressed on the bed. For a second, nothing happened, and he slowly kept the towel and ointment away.

"Can...can you lift it up?"

She let her eyes turn to him, her breath catching in her throat. She swallowed, her gaze never leaving his.

Without a word, she brought her hand to the edge of the already half unzipped shirt. Conaan's eyes followed her fingers, then slowly went back to her face, his lips slightly parting.

Slowly, she started to pull the shirt off, the smooth, fair skin opening underneath.

Conaan caught his breath as she kept going higher and higher. The large bruise was on the side of her stomach, and he winced a little at it.

Suddenly, he caught the shirt in place, his eyes a little wide. All of the bruise was now in sight, and he slowly met her eyes.

"That is enough."

She said nothing and let go of the shirt, before she went back on her side, her eyes closing.

He came closer and gently dabbed at the wound, massaging the bruise carefully. Her brows furrowed slightly, but the allure of this position was messing with her mind enough for her to not feel the pain half as much.

Suddenly, the towel was gone, and she could feel his fingers on her bare skin, the ointment the only thing between them. She closed her eyes even tighter and let out a small breath.

As if under a compulsion, she turned again, her eyes slightly wide. Conaan looked up to her, his eyes a little conflicted.

"I am not done with it yet," he said, his voice low.

She swallowed, her breath hitching in her throat, then nodded slowly. "I know."

She slowly propped herself up on her hands, her eyes meeting his, her lips parting with a word he did not quite hear.

"Your Highness."

He met her eyes again, then sucked in his bottom lip, a completely unconscious, yet dangerous move. Her eyes drifted to his lips, and she felt the reins of control go out of her reach even more.

"Yes?"

She swallowed, shaking her head. When she met his eyes this time, she was pretty sure she saw a reflection of her own eyes.

"I do not want to do much talking right now."

His brows furrowed a little. "Eleanor, I..."

Before he finished it, she slowly covered the distance, so she was sitting up, her fingers lacing in his hair. He made no objections as he moved him closer to her, her lips slowly taking his in a heartbeat.

He felt the rationality leave, the warmth of the room threatening to boil over, and the lit candles had nothing to do with it.

She slowly pulled away from him, her lips sucked in like she was trying to keep every little taste that lingered.

"Let me just...taste you instead."

His eyes searched around her, the fires of desire lit darkly behind her eyes. It tainted the light blue dark, giving her an unmatched allure.

"What are you waiting for?" He whispered, but was a little too impatient to hear the answer.

He covered the distance himself this time, taking her lips in a slow, feverish rhythm, his kisses slow and fast at the same time, a rhythm that messed with her already cloudy mind.

Even when he decided she was injured and needed to rest, even when the only thing left was the taste of him somehow left all over her although the only place he had touched were her lips, she knew she was a sinner. An unrepentant sinner in her worship of a man.

Brandon sighed as he waited, his eyes darting around the cave. The highest healer of the lycans lived in that complete isolation, her place dark with what she called the power she could wield with her hands.

He sighed a little, growing impatient. He hadn't even caught a glimpse of her, and he was feeling his patience run thin.

"Oh. It is just you."

He turned swiftly to her. She was walking in, her raven black hair bounding down her back, a small sigh of relief escaping her lips.

"Have you been expecting someone?"

"His Highness," she said simply. "But I take it you are here for him?"

Brandon nodded. "Why were you expecting him?"

She walked around and sat opposite him, the single stone carved table between them.

"His body is weak, is it not?"

Brandon swallowed. "He was unconscious in the morning."

The healer's eyes squinted, and she gave a small sigh. "He survived that poison based off on the sheer strangth of his body. That had taken a lot. He does not have much time left without the sacrifice."

Brandon moved further. "Exactly why I am here. Wha does his mate have to do? She agreed to do anything as long as it would keep him healthy."

She raised a brow.. "Is that so? Is she ready to be the vessel for the poison?"

Brandon's brows furrowed. "A vessel?"

"That is the only way. He shares a link with his mate, and that is why it has to be her. We can extract the poison from his body, and move it non-physically through the link to her body. That is the only way."

Brandon's brows furrowed darkly. "But...if His Highness can not take it, then..."

"Exactly, Brandon. His mate has to die for him."

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