Bound to the Prince by Deborah Court Page A

sheets she lay on for being far
too smooth to get a hold somewhere. It made it impossible to break
free from the shackles which bound her wrists.
Low male laughter came out of the dark. A torch was lit by one
wall, and soft golden light illuminated a section of the chamber.
Yet the edges stayed in shadows, so Igraine couldn’t make out how
large the cave actually was. She saw that she was lying in a huge,
canopied four-poster bed made of dark wood, every thick bedpost
richly carved with signs and images similar to those she had seen
on the other cavern's walls. The sheets and pillows she rested upon
were indeed made of the finest black silk.
    Without a doubt this was a bed, fit for a
prince: Elathan. She tried not to think how his alabaster skin and
light hair would look in contrast to the black sheets when he lay
down here, naked. She tried to free her wrists again and tugged at
her bonds desperately, using all her strength now. A sudden fear
took hold of her. Maybe it had been wrong to assume that the elf
had developed some attachment to her, even if it was based only on
carnal pleasures. Maybe he would kill her, right here.
“Don’t overexert yourself, little human. These shackles are
enchanted. The more you try to escape them, the tighter they
get.”
Elathan’s low, melodic voice seemed to fill the cave with warmth,
creeping under her skin and alluring her with its magic. When the
elf stepped out of the darkness, he wore nothing but tight black
trousers and training gloves. The candlelight created a golden glow
on his bare skin, outlining every single muscle. His movements were
graceful like a panther’s as he started to pace around the chamber,
carrying a long, slender spear over one shoulder. Igraine drew a
deep, shuddering breath.
    “You have no idea how old I am, human,”
Elathan said, his tone earnest now. “And you can’t even begin to
imagine how far my hatred towards your people goes.”
Igraine felt anger welling up inside her. “Oh yes, you’ve made that
abundantly clear,” Igraine hissed back. He was trying to humiliate
her again. This situation was ridiculous. Here she was, vulnerable
and naked before this haughty, arrogant male who had repeatedly
declared how much he wanted to kill not only her, but all
mankind.
    “Is this the reason why you like to lurk near
bridges and murder innocent women?”
Elathan stopped his pacing and looked at her, tilting his head to
the side like a curious cat. His dark-rimmed eyes didn’t seem
golden now, glowing like burning coals in the night. “You think I
am a murderer?” he asked, astonished.
    “Of course. Don't try to tell me that I'm the
first woman you abducted. I might be a lowly human, Your Royal
Highness, but I am not stupid.”
    Elathan answered with a superior smile that
made her heart beat faster against her will. “When I see humans who
are foolish enough to walk through the streets in the night,
unaccompanied, sometimes I consider ending their worthless lives.
But usually, hunting down a prey which is no challenge at all is
not much fun. So the answer to your question is no, I don't kill
helpless women, even if they are human. You, on the other hand, are
different.”
    Igraine gasped in shock. “Did you just
intimate that killing me would be fun?”
    The prince chuckled. “Maybe, maybe not. I
could think of other ways you could entertain me.” His eyes
wandered shamelessly over Igraines naked body, making her blush
like a virgin. Although she was in much better shape, she still had
to learn to feel self-confident about herself. However, Elathan
seemed to like what he saw, judging from the look on his face. "You
are the only mortal I ever stole, Igraine," he said softly. "I want
you."
    Igraine swallowed hard. "Will you rape me
before you kill me, then?" she whispered.
    Elathan was beside her in an instant. His
eyes were glowing furiously while he pressed the tip of his spear
to Igraine’s throat.
    “Watch your tongue, human,” he