Lycan's Affection
My Marks, Your Skin

"Do not dilute my blood?" Brandon said, his brows drawn together in a confused line. "I do not get it. Is he so eager to share the same blood with the monster who could have done this to him or what?"

Conaan looked over Matthew again, his lips slightly pursed. "You think the blood is that important?"

"What do you mean, Your Highness?"

Conaan said nothing for a while, only letting his fingers run the marks once more, like he was trying to make certain of the message embedded in his skin.

"This was written by fire. Probably because there was nothing else. Do you not think that if he wrote that message, then there must be some significance to that blood?"

"He could just be trying to stay alive."

"Not diluting his blood will only make him stay like this longer, I am sure the healer will agree. He has a better chance of survival if I, or you, or someone was to give him blood."

Brandon gave a small sigh as he moved Matthew back, so he was facing up again. As if the answers would be on his face, he studied him, his eyes slightly thinning, his chest slowly heaving.

"What do you think, Your Highness?"

"I think we should do as he says. There has to be something that prompted Alexander to remove that blood, and why he left this message. Probably something that could be detrimental to the werewolves so the only way he can gift his brother to us safely, without it coming into our hands, is by turning him bloodless."

Brandon slowly agreed, then bit down on his lips. "I will oversee his treatment and ensure no other blood comes in contact with his. Should Eleanor know?"

"I see no reason to hide it from her."

"But...should she not know about your poison, Your Highness? She is your Queen. You want to marry her. What good will come of it being kept a secret? What if you suddenly collapse and she haas no idea what happened to you?"

Conaan stayed silent, his eyes thin. He lifted them to Brandon, then slowly let out a small breath.

"Eleanor...this is a tragedy waiting to happen, Brandon. Except if there is some miracle, something to save me, I and Eleanor are heading for a tombstone. And to shroud the little time we have in darkness and pain, where I watch her searching for a way to keep me alive is not...the way I see my last days."

"But Your Highneess..."

"I am looking for a cure. And I shall find it. Eleanor will not die in my place. And I will not leave her behind, that is a promise."

Brandon swallowed. "I hope so too."

"Make sure he is taken care of."

Brandon nodded, his eyes lowered as Conaan walked past him, leaving the chambers.

Brandon waited till the healer came, his feet tapping against the floor. She soon arrived, and he watched as she examined Matthew closely, feeling his pulse, his essence and his heartbeat.

"He is extremely weak. Malnourished too. I would recommend giving him blood through a..."

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"It is His Highness's order that his blood is not diluted. Look for some other way."

The healer raised a brow, but said nothing to that. "I will. But this way might take three months to bring him back to full health."

Brandon nodded. "We are not in a haste."

She nodded, then walked around Matthew, slowly starting on acupuncture.

"I choose this robe," Eleanor said, raising a robe to Conaan. It was yet another red one, and he let his eyes roll only a little, a small sigh escaping him.

The sun was setting, and for the past few hours, she, herself had been going over little details of his trip, like stocks of food, water, down to the capability of the soldiers he would be going with.

Now she was on his clothes, and she was picking the sixth red robe in a row.

"That is, if I recall well, the sixth one."

"You look good in red," she remarked, only slightly glancing at him.

He gave another small sigh. "I will not even be around for you to see it."

Her reaction came slowly as realization dawned, and she dropped the robe. "Well, then. I choose all the black ones."

"Black?"

"Mhm. No woman would want to approach you when you wear black."

He gave a small snicker. "Why? Do I look hideous?"

"No. You look unapproachable."

He gave a small smile. "Is that so?"

She nodded quickly, then moved the robes again and started to pile the black ones into the large box. He only watched her with no arguments at all, noticing how she only picked the full robes and not the robes that were open to show his skin like the ones he always wore for her.

"You will not need all the bottonless ones. It is a trip. That too, without me."

He chuckled. "And what is wrong with them?"

She turned sharply, meeting his eyes. "I believe I am the only woman who should even so much as catch a glimpse of your skin, my love. It will be very difficult for me not to be responsible for the sudden, untimely death of any maiden who does it in my stead."

He gave a laugh, his sharp canines showing as he shook his head. "That would be quite a show to watch, Eleanor."

She thinned her eyes, then slowly stood, her hand going to her waist. With slow, sure footsteps, she walked to where he was sitting by the edge of the bed.

He moved backwards a little, his eyes wide. "What...what are you doing?"

She did not reply, and she moved even further, so there was no space between them. Her hands slowly moved to her hair, and she pulled it up to a rough bun, piling it on her head.

Conaan swallowed a little, never taking his eyes off her, his breath faltering a little.

Before he could say a word, she leaned forward, catching him by surprise. It made him move back abruptly and he lay on the bed.

She hovered above him, her hands on either side of him, on her lips a small smile.

"What was Your Highness saying again?"

He blinked, finding his mind blank, his throat dry, his concentration broken.

"El...Eleanor.."

She smiled, then moved to his ear, her lips teasing the outlines of his ear lobe. He gave a small sigh, his eyes closing on their own, his heart going on overdrive.

"Where would you like the mark to be?" She whispered, her voice low.

His brows furrowed as he turned to her. "What?"

"I mean...if you are going to show some skin, I would like my mark on every bit of skin on show. So they know...that you belong to someone."

She gave a small laugh, meeting his eyes this time. They were still wide, and for some weird reason, she loved that look on him. Of pure innocence waiting to be unraveled and exploited. Of pure beauty waiting to be flaunted. Of divine spice waiting to be tasted.

A sudden knock on the door broke the allure, and Conaan turned, his eyes blinking rapidly. He turned back to Eleanor who seemed unbothered, his mind going back to what he had originally intended to tell her.

"Believe me, I can't wait till I have my marks all over your skin, but..." He trailed off, trying to regain his breath. "There is something else I should tell you about."

Eleanor raised a brow. "What is it?"

"I...Matthew, Alexander's brother was found earlier within the territory, almost dead."

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