Lycan's Affection
Dark Moons

Brandon trudged the dark, bushy path that led to the biggest lake in the lycan territory. It was unfrequented, especially at this time of the night when most people would be having celebrations or games. But he knew where he had to be. He had been here before, years ago. Then another a year ago. He could not believe he was coming here agin.

He swallowed, holding the fur shawl tight in his hand. The first thing that greeted him was the light smell of blood.

His lycan was impossibly sensitive to it, and he walked even faster, towards the clearing.

There were a few grey wolves on the floor, each killed in the most merciless way. The claws of their killer sliced through their flesh. One was whimpering almost sadly on the floor, blood spilled around the entire place.

He tore his gaze away from the mess, and turned to Conaan. He was sitting in the midst of them, his hand supporting him up, his eyes overlooking the water.

It felt like the calm after the storm. Or a massacre.

"Your Highness."

Conaan did not reply for a minute, before he gave a small chuckle. "You found me again, Brandon."

"I always will."

Conaan did not reply, as Brandon walked up to him, then placed the shawl around his bare back.

"You should come back home, Your Highness. It has been a night since you left. Even Eleanor is worried about you."

"I am too tired of being reined inside my own self. Like a cage I am yelling to get out of."

Brandon swallowed. "Every single time you have done something like this, it is because of Eleanor. Every single time, Your Highness."

Conaan slowly stood up, dusting his hand a little nonchalantly. There was a small nip on his arm, probably from one of the wolves, and he smiled broadly.

"I guess she is the only one capable of riling me up."

"No," Brandon said, unable to stand on the neutral side, the side he assumed Conaan wanted him on. "It almost feels like she is now ruining you. I am not against your love but...you doing what you want or believe is right, once in a while, even if it will hurt her, is good for you too. She left years ago. You carry her marks on your heart. You carry her scar on your face. Her father is a traitor who killed King Javier."

"Did you check that? Why would I trust Zak? Every one of them from back then is a damned hypocrite, Brandon."

Brandon swallowed hard, angry tears filling his eyes. "I did. Beta Grayson really killed King Javier. And Beta Grayson's death...it was a suicide. He probably could not live with it. There is only a single supplier of that poison in the herb village, and her records dated back years ago. Beta Grayson came for it twice, the first on the night of the mating, the second only four days after King Javier's death. The poison masks as a heart disease, and that is why we all believed it was Eleanor's distress that caused it. But nonetheless, Your Highness. You are going to forgive her. You are going to forgive Anderson. You are going to prey on anything else as long as it does not affect her because she has managed to rule over your heart. You are going to let your enemies walk free."

"Because she is worth it." His teeth were clenched, his eyes thin as he turned to Brandon. This Conaan that was standing in front of him should have had Anderson's mutilated body at his feet. Should have.

"Because she is worth every single thing that I have done. Every single thing I forgave her for. And if she does not prove herself to me today, tomorrow or forever, I will take her like that and believe that is my fate."

"Why?" Brandon asked, his voice now low.

"Because she is the one I want. I have never wanted anything more. I have never needed anything more. You watched me, Brandon. I never got a glimpse at any other maiden because she cam so early. And I do not care to. If all she ever gives me is pain, if all she ever does is hurt me, then so be it."

Brandon's lips quivered a little, the moonlight reflecting off Conaan's dark green eyes, turning the single layer of tears that had rounded it into a crystalline form.

He blinked hard, shaking his head as he brought his hand to his hair.

"I only accepted Eleanor because I knew how much you wanted her, Your Highness. I only let her go for abandoning you, I only refused to chase her down and have both her and her lover's heads, because you did not want me to. When she came with Alexander, I only refrained from making a mess of them both because of you. But now I am starting to believe...that the woman my King, my brother, the warrior I grew up with wants, does not deserve him."

Conaan closed his eyes, like it was the truth he hated to hear, the truth his mind already knew but his heart...his heart refused to accept.

He bit down on his lips hard and turned away, saying nothing more. Brandon stood there, watching him for a long while, his tears falling down his left eye in a single, elegant form.

Briskly, he covered the distance between them, and wrapped his hands around Conaan, offering the solace he knew the warrior needed, but would never ask for.

Conaan said nothing, letting Brandon embrace him, like it would change the truth that Brandon had just said.

"I know how much it hurts, but it hurt seeing you so angry, yet helpess, bounded by your love. It hurt that you could not exert your revenge because you were scared of making her feel guilty. It hurt to see you so frequently broken. We grew up together, Your Highness. We buried your father. We buried her father. We buried my father. We have been through the worst together. But this...I do not know what to do for you. And it hurts."

Conaan did not reply, just brought his hand around Brandon too, leaning so his head was buried in Brandon's shoulder, his eyes closed.

"If you are ever this hurt because of Eleanor once more, I can not promise you that she will go scot free with it. She has to show me that she indeed deserves my brother."

Conaan only nodded, feeling it like a bit of balm on his wounds, his body relaxing. Brandon let go, and he lowered his eyes, then gently pulled the shawl around Conaan even tighter.

"When will you come back?"

Conaan swallowed. "I still need a bit of time."

"I understand. As for Anderson...when I and Eleanor went to his home, he placed his foot on her lap, saying he always did that when she was younger. What do you want me to do? Satiate your anger, my king."

Conaan swallowed. "Bring me his foot."

"As you wish."

Silence reigned between them for a while, before Brandon turned to leave, knowing Conaan would be fine. Or at least, try to be.

"Brandon?"

Brandon turned, his eyes wide. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"You are not allowed to leave me."

Brandon cracked a smile. "I do not even wish to."

Conaan nodded. "And I prefer brother."

Brandon smiled again. "Sure, brother."

Conaan nodded, and Brandon walked away, leaving Conaan behind, the moonlight making the mixture of blood, water and him a bit more ethereal.