Bound to the Prince Page 5

  Then she had lifted her head, and the cold wind blew back the hair that had concealed her face. Elathan had already begun to turn away, wanting to leave and return to the eternal silence of his caves. Unable to move, he stared at a face that absolutely shocked him with its perfection. Huge, deep green eyes dominated her delicate features, with high cheekbones and a perfectly formed chin that was slightly raised like a queen's, giving her a proud and definitely stubborn look. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he instantly wished to taste those incredibly soft lips, tasting the depths of her sweet scent.

  Something that had been hidden deep within his soul stirred now, a feeling so strong and primal that it shook him to the core. She was unlike elven women, not delicate and ethereally beautiful, but very tall for a female. Her crude human clothes couldn't keep him from noticing her voluptuous, desirable curves. They made him want to simply grab her and drag her to his underground chambers. There, he'd carry her to his bed and take her body. He wanted to bury his hands in her shiny dark hair, just to see how it looked against his pale skin. But he wanted to kill her at the same time, just because of the feelings she awakened in him. As if her being human wasn’t reason enough!

  Elathan knew that, as usual, he had moved so silently that no mortal would be able to hear him. She couldn't see through his glamour which enabled him to blend into the night like a shadow. But then the woman turned her gaze to the column on which he crouched, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. It was unbelievable, but she seemed to know that he was there, sensing his presence. At this moment he saw the unbearable pain in her eyes, the desperation, the utter hopelessness, and he instinctively knew that she was thinking about killing herself. She had longed to jump through the impenetrable darkness to the river below, to end the torment of her life.

  This realization shocked him even more than the sight of her unexpected beauty. At the same time, he noticed that he felt furious about it. How could this human dare to throw away her short span of life when she had been blessed with such features, and a body that was clearly made for love? With long, well-formed arms and legs to wrap around a man's back and hips while he buried himself in her softness and loved her until she wept with pleasure? With that body that promised to bear strong, healthy children and a mouth that was made to kiss and smile?

  Without thinking, he crossed the gap between the bridges with a long, powerful jump and hunted her down, catching her with ease when she tried to run. The scent that had fascinated him before surrounded him like a sweet, compelling cloud. Trying to ignore her strange allure, he wove a spell over her so she would fall asleep and cease any resistance. Quickly, he covered her face with a silken cloth he ripped from his shirt so she couldn't enchant him with her beauty and convince him to let her go. Then he threw her unconscious body over his shoulder and swiftly climbed down over the railing to the underside of the bridge, where he opened the magic portal to his caves.

  After he woke her, the woman astonished him with her courage. Facing almost certain death, she didn't break down and cry, or plead for her life. When she finally saw him, she didn't lower her gaze as any female would when she faced an elven prince in all his glory for the first time. Yes, she looked shocked and frightened by the danger he presented to her, but she wasn't afraid of the way he looked. To his utter surprise, she had boldly met his eyes and watched him with raw, unveiled desire. He felt it on his skin as if she'd actually touched him. Now this was strange. Aye, he hated all humans, for their despicable nature and for what they had done to his people. But at the same time they seemed to detest him, too – as long as they stayed alive in his presence, that was. He never killed their women or children, but human females found his sight horrifying when they saw him for the first time. Elathan knew that they couldn't bear to look into the eyes of an immortal, and the scars on his face and body scared them.

  But not this one. She ogled him as if he was an exotic, mouthwatering dish she wanted to devour. Suddenly he wanted to insult her, hurt her pride. He'd show the worthless human where her place was. She was nothing to him, just a slave – even if he found her strangely attractive. It was inevitable that she'd succumb to his will, despite her pride and boldness. Yes, she would suffer at his hands and pay for the crimes of her people, this human woman. He would prepare her for her new life as his slave, serving him with her mind, soul and especially her body, and she'd train until she accepted that role. He'd make her pay for the fact that she excited him so much against his will. Doubtless he had abstained from the pleasures of a female's body too long, although he could order any elven women to his bed, any time he wished. Even if he was living in exile now, none of them would be able to resist the prince's order, and most would willingly come to his bed.

  Igraine. It was an uncommon, old name among humans, but it seemed to fit her somehow. Yet he would not address her with it. If he had to kill her, it would be less personal if she only was a human slave like any other, and he’d probably forget her name after a century or two.

  Nevertheless, Elathan was impressed by the way she put up a good fight with him today. He had not expected her to try and fight him at all, to be honest. It had been most surprising to see anger, then real fury, flaming up in her deep green eyes, speckled with golden brown. He loved green. It reminded him of his home in the trees long ago, when he did not have to dwell in these underground caverns.

  Of course she didn't stand a chance against his elven strength and fighting expertise, gained in uncountable years of battles and training. But she attacked him fearlessly, with the clear intend to hurt or even kill. He saw it in her eyes. Yet her rage was not directed at him alone, he mused. He wondered what had hurt her so much to cause such a reaction.

  And then … when he threw her down on the floor and covered her, he nearly lost control and took her on the spot, which could easily have killed her. The feeling of her softness under his hard warrior’s body, her curves and the sweet scent of her hair was almost too much. She was tall and strong enough to carry his weight – he loved lying on top of her without fearing to break her. Her full, tight breasts and the way she shamelessly rubbed her hips against his body was almost more than he could endure.

  But then she lifted her head and slowly licked his throat with small, sensuous strokes of her tongue as if he was the most delicious treat, tasting him. It was only centuries of well-practiced self-restraint, that had held him back from ripping away her clothing right then. Elathan wanted to enter her hot wetness at once, thrusting into her slick channel until she begged him for mercy. He could have spent an eternity licking her soft skin in so many places, savoring her irresistible scent and listening to her lustful moans.

  The woman could count herself lucky that he had left before he took her and killed her with his desire. He had been telling the truth when he said that she probably wouldn’t survive the night with an elf. The men of his race tended to draw all the strength out of a female’s body while making love to her. If he controlled his desire and lay with a woman of the Fae, he would just leave her weak for a while. Often a magic potion helped, as long as the female had enough time to recover afterwards. But a frail human woman’s body was not made for such an exertion. It could prove too much if her mind and body weren’t strong enough and had not been properly prepared. Especially this one. His desire for her was overwhelming. He didn’t know if he could restrain himself when they actually did join.

  Once, a very long time ago, the prince had taken a human woman, a king’s daughter given to him as a present by her father after Elathan defeated his army with his elven warriors. He had been aroused after battle and was pleased to find a willing female, even a human one, in the bed of his royal tent. After he had pleasured her for hours and hours until she screamed with ecstasy and could take no more, he was entirely spent and slept like a stone. When he woke up the next morning, the girl lay beside him on the silken pillows, pale and lifeless. He knew that her human lifespan would have been short anyway. But her death saddened him, f
or he had not wanted to take her life just to satisfy his lust. He decided never to share his bed with a mortal woman again.

  Until today. When the prince had smelled Igraine, felt her, tasted her, it had become inevitable that they would eventually mate. Igraine was his now, and she would come to his bed very soon. The image of her naked body under him, her long legs wrapped around his waist, made him harden and ache for her even more. Damn, he wished he could go back into this cursed chamber and take her right now. At the same time, his anger welled up again. He wanted to punish her, let her suffer for the torment she gave him. He wouldn't allow a weak, treacherous human to affect him like this.

  The prince knew that using the human for his carnal pleasure would be delightful indeed. He only hoped she would survive it – if his training didn’t kill her first.

  * * * * *

  Igraine did not see Elathan again for days. After their pole fight with the surprising outcome, she had fallen down onto the bed, exhausted from the unfamiliar physical strain. Her wound had closed, but she felt weak after the blood loss. She slept for the rest of the day and the whole night. When the elf came to tend to her injuries and bruises, she didn’t notice.

  When she finally woke up, she felt terrible. Not only her muscles, but every single part of her body seemed to hurt. She couldn’t move without wincing. Slowly she stood up and limped over to the table, where she was delighted to find a bowl filled with fresh, hot water. She didn't care to wonder how the elf could have heated it down here. Quickly she stepped out of her torn, dirty clothes and washed her hair and body, sighing with pleasure to feel clean again. When she slid the musky smelling soap over her belly and hips she couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to have lost some weight. Elathan's training seemed to have a good effect on her body, although it hurt like hell. If she ever managed to flee from this place, she would make a lot of money with a pole fighting workout DVD, she thought, grinning.

  Her muscles ached, but in a good way. She felt them tight and strong under her skin when she moved. Actually, her body felt good, for the first time in months. Igraine almost felt … beautiful, especially when the prince touched her.

  No, she was foolish indeed to think of herself as beautiful. How could a man like this, elf or human, even look at her? She was sure that the passionate moment on the floor had been caused by the excitement of the fight, but it also was Elathan’s way of humiliating her. After he had left, she had rolled to her side on the floor, feeling weak and crying with unfulfilled desire. Without a doubt, he could use her for his sexual needs like any slave, but he didn't really want her. And who could blame him? He just was too perfect, too beautiful. If an elven man looked like this, she could imagine how flawless the women of his kind must be. Before he left, Elathan had clearly shown how much he despised her. He had cruelly mocked her while she was so vulnerable, when she wanted him so much, needed him desperately.

  Earlier she had seen that the elf had left new clothes for her on the foot of the bed, so she put them on. The garment was a knee-length, sleeveless dress made of soft, dark green linen with tight fitting pants and a wide leather belt. It fitted snugly but hugged her curves surprisingly tightly, and was cut so low that a good portion of her bosom was revealed. After she was fully dressed, she looked around and found a fine ivory comb and a thin leather band, so she could arrange her still-wet hair into a ponytail. There was some kind of rough sponge which she believed was intended as a toothbrush, so she tried and was surprised how clean her teeth felt afterwards. As a natural urge made her look around the cavern, to her surprise she discovered a smaller cave with a wooden door in one corner, which contained a marble privy with an underground stream flowing beneath it. The Devil's Society seemed to have provided their secret meeting place with many amenities, indeed.

  Igraine's belief that Elathan hated her was confirmed when the hours passed without Elathan returning to her prison chamber. Even the following day and the next she didn't see him at all, but magically found fresh food and water on the table whenever she woke up from a deep, dreamless sleep. Remembering the elf's lesson, she started to practice pole fighting by herself and had the feeling that she improved quickly. After that, she grabbed one of the swords and tried to swing it in a way that looked like fighting to her. At first she went to the weapon rack out of boredom. Later, she noticed that she actually enjoyed feeling her body become stronger day by day. After what she estimated to be a week, she should have gone mad staying in her candle-lit cell, not having a single window. Luckily, her days were filled with hard exercise and after that, she was so tired that she slept deeply until morning. She was glad that she was kept from thinking too much about Elathan this way.

  One night, however, she suddenly awakened from a deep, exhausted sleep. It was pitch dark in the cave. All the candles had burned down. Igraine sat up, wondering what had caused her to wake up. She couldn’t hear a sound. But there was something in the darkness, watching, preying on her. She nodded to herself. Obviously, she was to die in this dark hole. But she would make sure that at least it would happen while she was on her feet, facing her death. She wouldn't die while lying helplessly on the floor. Her knees were shaking, but she managed to get up and stand there, motionless and quiet like a frightened deer. Carefully she listened to any sound that might penetrate the darkness. But all she heard was the rapid beating of her own heart.

  No matter how hard she listened, she couldn’t have anticipated how near the lurking presence had drawn. She screamed when two strong hands grasped her out of the dark, whirled her around like a weightless doll and slammed her up against the wall of the cave. Finally, she found herself imprisoned between the unmoving stone and a male body she remembered all too well, nearly as hard as the rock and just as unyielding.

  Elathan was back. And this time he had come to kill her.

  Chapter 5: Pain and Pleasure

  Igraine felt the elf’s hot breath as it caressed her forehead. He lowered his head a bit, inhaling deeply. She knew he was taking in her scent. Despite her fear, the urge to touch him was growing so strong that she started to reach out to him. He caught both of her wrists with one of his large hands, pinning them against the wall so she was his helpless prey once again…

  “Too long have I lived in this darkness, human,” he said, so close to her that his lips touched her earlobe, light as a butterfly’s wing. “Alone.”

  Igraine stood perfectly still. His nearness confused her senses so she could hardly think, even forgot to breathe for a moment. And his incredible voice, she couldn’t describe what it did to her. It was different from a human voice: slightly husky, but deeper and richer, with an indefinable soft melody when he spoke. Sometimes his tone was so cold that she shivered; but now it was filled with emotion, sounding like the deep vibration of a bronze bell after it had stopped ringing. She could feel the pain that tortured his soul. He had the battle-hardened body of a warrior, but inside he was bleeding out of too many wounds that had never been healed.

  There was no doubt she would be playing with fire if she tried to reach out to him. His hatred for humanity was too strong. Elathan would never trust her.

  “Your people are responsible for this. Humans!” he spat out bitterly. “Enslaved by your greed, your lust for destruction. You spread across the earth like insects, and you will not rest until every form of life, every kind of beauty this world has ever seen is gone forever. The only reason for all this is to try and fill the emptiness in your worthless souls, but you’ll never succeed.” He growled deep down in his throat. “Because of your kin, I have lost my people, the companionship of my family and my throne. Once I loved the humans like brothers, for I believed that the world was large enough for all of us. I trusted them to honor the truce for which my people sacrificed so much. But you betrayed us. You can’t help it. It’s in your nature.”

  She gasped when she felt his tongue touch the sensitive spot right below her ear, licking her very softly as if he wanted to taste her before he ate her a
live. His beauty, his seductive voice, it was all, as she had felt before, a predator’s way of lulling his victim into a false sense of security before he killed without regrets.

  No regrets, she thought. How peaceful that must be. If only she could convince him that not all humans were the way he described them, but she didn’t even try. He wouldn’t be persuaded by simple words. And maybe he was right, after all.

  His voice spoke very softly to her now, which made him sound even more dangerous than before. “You deserve to die, all of you. I do not care if you destroy yourself or your world. But first I will make any human stupid enough to come within my reach suffer. This is the only joy left in my life. I will let you pay for what you did to my people.” His lips moved downwards, along the side of her neck where the blood rapidly pulsed in her carotid artery. She felt his teeth graze her skin right there.

  Elathan seemed to enjoy her fear. “So warm, so alive,” he murmured. “And yet you are doomed to die, with every breath you take, human.” His voice touched her like a caress, almost lovingly. Igraine noticed that she had indeed stopped breathing, so she gasped for air. It only made her inhale more of his wonderful male scent. Heavens, she was so hot and ready for him. She moaned softly before she could stop herself. A hoarse sound in the darkness reached her ears. Was it possible that the elf had just laughed?

  She never saw it coming. If he had attacked, intending to kill her, she wouldn’t have been surprised. But Elathan moved so quickly that she couldn’t comprehend what had happened to her. Still imprisoning her hands above her head, he used his free arm to pull her nearer to his body until only a thin layer of fabric separated them. He crushed her to him so forcefully it hurt, but she didn’t care. Breathing was difficult, anyway. Suddenly, he let her wrists go and entwined his fingers in her curls. He lifted one of the auburn tresses to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. “Beautiful,” he murmured so softly she wasn't sure if it was only her imagination. Then he grabbed a fistful of hair at her neck and pulled her head back. Trapped, she faced him in the darkness while the prince bowed his head to capture her lips.