Bound to the Prince by Deborah Court

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