Igraine had felt desire for him before, but since they had shared their blood, being apart from him felt like physical pain. Moaning again, she lay down on her belly, hugging the pillow with both arms. She didn’t even think about removing the sword on her back. This was where he had slept with his arms around her, making her feel protected, safer than ever before. It didn’t matter if he was a prince and she a mere slave to tend to his sexual needs. She happily would spend the rest of her life this way if it meant being close to him.
She must have fallen asleep for a while, for an unfamiliar sound made her startle. Igraine sat up abruptly, wondering why she felt so stiff until she remembered that the sword was still strapped to her back. Searching for the origin of the strange, high-pitched sound, her attention was drawn to the wall on the other end of the chamber. There, a silvery light had begun to penetrate the massive stone.
It was a thin line at first. It started on the cave floor and ran up through the rock to the height of a tall man, ripping the stone apart. It arched to one side in a high bow-shape and then down again. It was the outline of a door. The light was pouring out from the narrow crack, as if an unseen force from outside had sliced through, splitting the hard stone.
Igraine wasn’t sure how she knew this, but there was old magic at work here. Elathan’s magic. She felt him as if he had touched her.
Igraine. She heard his voice in her mind, calling her to him.
Without thinking, she stood up from the bed and went to the glowing door in the wall, cautiously, step by step. She had her hand ready at the hilt of her sword, not knowing what would come out of the door when it finally opened.
The age-old stone of the cave eventually gave way, and the door opened slowly, swinging to the side with a loud rumble.
Igraine was blinded by the light shining out of the opening, streaming into the darkened cave. She shielded her eyes with one hand and tried to see what was on the other side of the door. Hearing Elathan’s voice in her head once more, she decided to proceed and took another step forward, crossing the door’s threshold.
Her skin tingled when she felt the magic that had caused this unmoving stone to open. She reached the other side, and her feet didn’t stand on the solid stone floor of the cave anymore. It was the softness of earth covered with fallen leaves.
Igraine let her hand fall down to her side and stared at her surroundings, disbelievingly. She had not expected what she saw there. Huge trunks of ancient trees reached up to the heavens, their branches forming a green canopy high over her head. She saw the sun shining through the mass of green leaves to warm her skin, and felt a soft breeze playing with her hair.
A forest. Only a moment ago she had been in Elathan’s underground bedchamber, and now she stood at the edge of a large clearing, surrounded by high elm trees. When she turned around, the magic door was gone, as it if had never existed.
She instantly knew that this wasn’t a normal wood. While some trees carried glossy green leaves, others were in full bloom, their branches sprinkled with lovely blossoms – some of them white and pink, others lime-green, they filled the air with their sweet scent. There were even trees in their autumn garments, their leaves silently falling down to the forest floor and coloring it in the most wonderful shades of golden yellow, russet and deep purple. It occurred to Igraine that the trees themselves had chosen their favorite season, although this was impossible - in her world, at least.
This forest is enchanted, she thought. She could feel the elven magic, his magic, all around her, confusing her human senses, creeping under her skin. It felt as if this place had waited for her, beckoning her to come home. It was beautiful beyond imagining.
A little blue bird landed on a nearby branch and curiously watched her with its tiny black eyes. When Igraine stretched out her hand to the bird, it surprised her by fearlessly hopping onto her hand. “Hello, little fellow,” she said very softly, not wishing to frighten him away. But the bird seemed to like it there. After he had settled down on the soft flesh between her thumb and index finger, he leisurely started to clean his wings. She laughed, charmed by the little animal who contentedly rested on her hand, without a care in the world.
A rustling sound behind her caught her attention, and she slowly turned around. The bird flew away, chirping merrily as if bidding her good-bye. Igraine stood rooted to the ground when she saw Elathan coming out of the woods, riding a midnight-black steed.
The prince sat on the noble horse as if he'd been born to it, holding the reins loosely while steering the animal with his muscular thighs. He was dressed in a stunning light armor in a deep green adorned with delicate golden trees and leaves. Igraine saw the sign she believed to be the royal seal on his belt. It was the same as on the hilt of her sword. Underneath, he wore tight riding trousers in a green so dark it looked almost black, high boots and a soft shirt with wide sleeves that reached down to his brown leather wrist armor. Igraine’s heart stopped beating for a moment when she realized that the colors of his clothes exactly matched hers, marking her as his own.
Besides his sword, the elf carried his spear and an elven longbow, both attached to his richly decorated saddle. His long moonlight tresses were tamed by a thin leather band that held the sides back, accentuating his regal features. Elathan’s high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes, combined with a straight nose and a determined jaw line gave him an aristocratic look, yet mated with the exotic beauty of a wild beast. His golden gaze never left her face while he rode to her side and dismounted with a single, swift motion, landing softly on the forest floor.
Before she knew it, he had pulled her into his strong embrace, kissing her so fiercely she forgot to breathe. His firm lips took possession of her, wild and passionate. Igraine moaned and willingly opened her mouth for him. Boldly he claimed her with his tongue, unmistakably giving her a foretaste of what would come when he took her body. His wonderful scent surrounded her, making her knees so weak she had to grab his muscular upper arms and cling helplessly to him. She feared that she might melt into a puddle at his feet if he took his arms away.
She felt his hand covering the back of her head, holding her prisoner so she couldn’t escape his kiss, even if she wanted. His gloved fingers stroked over her dark hair, wrapping it around his palm while he tasted her lower lip, nibbling and sucking until she moaned with delight. His other hand wandered down over her sensitive back, making her shiver with desire. He grabbed her soft backside and pressed her close to his strong, hard body. Feeling his nearness was almost more than she could bear. She wanted him, right here and now.
Igraine had never felt this way before. This kiss dispelled every other thought from her mind, made her care for nothing else but ripping off his clothes, feeling his naked skin on hers. Without him, she was incomplete, like a creature ripped into two halves by a cruel god. He was a part of her now.
Suddenly she couldn’t be near enough to him. Desperately she threw her arms around his neck and molded her body to his, frustrated by the hardness of the prince’s armor between them. He kissed her again and again, his tongue exploring her mouth while her body trembled in his arms, and her womanly core pulsated, moist and ready for his entrance.
When he pulled back from her lips, she cried out softly and tried to capture his mouth again. Slowly, he broke the kiss and buried his face against her neck. Igraine felt like crying when she felt his agitated breath grazing her skin. She couldn’t stand being separated from him anymore, even for one single moment. “Elathan,” she whispered into his hair, not daring to tell him what she yearned for. The prince moaned deep in his throat, gently biting her neck while he strained to hold himself back. They stood encircled in each other's arms. For a while, their heavy breathing was the only sound. Even the birds had stopped singing, and time seemed to stand still for a moment. Reluctantly, Elathan stepped back to bring a safe distance between them. He knew that if he waited only a moment longer, he wouldn't be able to stop himself anymore.
Igraine opened her mouth
to protest, but a soft rustling made her turn her head to the other end of the clearing, where the undergrowth between the tall trees moved. The branches parted, and a most unexpected creature came into sight.
It was a centaur. His upper half was a young man’s body, athletic and sculpted like a Michelangelo statue. He had a face that could make a woman sigh, and long black hair flowing down his back. From the waist down he had a horse’s body. His dark muscular flanks shivered when he threw back his head and took in the mingled scent of elven and human arousal that filled the air. The centaur curtly nodded to Elathan before he directed his attention fully towards the human woman, staring at her with blatant desire.
Elathan pushed her behind his broad back so she was blocked from the mythical creature’s view. “Centaurs,” he growled. “It's always the same with them. Never able to control themselves in the presence of a female.” He laid his hand on the hilt of his spear, making sure the centaur would see the warning gesture. “She’s mine, Aegis,” Elathan said. He gave the centaur a warning look, his eyes glowing dangerously now. “I would not advise you to touch her. Now where are your friends?”
Aegis watched the prince with open challenge, but just for a short moment. Then he quickly averted his eyes from Igraine and raised his hand. One after another, three centaurs stepped into the clearing, joining their leader. They were strange companions for a prince, Igraine thought. Every one of them had a different coloring, their hair always matching the fur on their horse half. One was very pale with light hair, similar to Elathan’s; the second reddish brown while the last was the color of polished ebony, his white teeth flashing in his handsome face when he grinned at Igraine. They were beautiful creatures; yet they looked wild and untamed. Obviously they respected Elathan, every one of them bowing his head to the prince as they left the shelter of the trees. Igraine had the distinct feeling that she didn’t want one of them as her enemy if she could avoid it.
All of a sudden she noticed that the clearing wasn’t bathed in golden sunshine anymore, the thick canopy of leaves filtering out a good part of the light. The autumn colors of the trees looked duller now, and it was rapidly getting darker. The silence of the woods was only broken by the occasional sound of small night creatures searching their way through the undergrowth.
Elathan turned to her, his face cold and unmoving again.
“Brace yourself, Igraine. As soon as night falls, the hunt will begin. The rules are quite simple. You only have to run and try to escape me and my hunting companions.” He gestured to the centaurs. They seemed to enjoy themselves immensely, grinning while they watched Igraine’s shocked face. She had just realized that the prince intended her to be the prey. Slowly, she shook her head, unable to believe that he would do this to her.
“The ritual will last until the sun rises in the east,” he continued, clearly unconcerned. The question is not if I catch you – there is no doubt about that, but how far you will make it before I hunt you down. Thus, you will prove yourself worthy of being a slave of pleasure, strong enough to cope with the desires of an elven warrior.”
He saw the panic in her eyes, so he put his hand under her chin and lifted up her face to him. “Don’t be frightened, sweet Igraine,” he added gently. “You are strong. Our blood has become one. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you, and the centaurs will not dare to touch you. Their only task is to chase you towards me. But be warned, this forest is very old. My people magically changed it for the sake of the Fae who live here, undisturbed by meddlesome humans. But there are also other creatures that still dwell in these woods. Some of them might prove dangerous to a human foolish enough to stumble into their way.
“I am the hunter, your master. You are the prey, my slave of pleasure. Run as fast as you can. I’ll give you one hour’s head start. Then I will not rest until you are mine.” He lowered his head and dropped his voice to a whisper, so the sharp ears of the centaurs wouldn’t hear what he told her. “I knew how beautiful you would look wearing this elven attire - like Diana, the goddess of the hunt. You can't imagine how much I want to be inside you, right now. But when your time comes and I take you, do not expect me to hold back, woman. You will surrender yourself to me completely, and I will claim what is rightfully mine.”
At this very moment the last beams of light shining through the leaves were gone, and the clearing was filled with dark shadows.
“The hunt has begun,” Elathan announced loudly, his voice rolling like thunder between the ancient trees.
Igraine hesitated only for a second. She threw one last glance at the prince’s face, just to see the expression in his eyes. They were dark, deep amber now, and showed no emotion except the thrill of the hunt. Terrified, she turned around and began to run.
Chapter 9: The Hunt
Igraine raced through the woods, the mocking battle cries of the centaurs still ringing in her ears. The fallen leaves rustled under her feet while she ran as fast as she could. She hoped to be at a safe distance when her one hour’s head start was over. She knew that she could never outrun the prince and his rowdy hunting companions, but maybe she had a chance if she found a good place to hide. The forest was plunged into darkness. However, a full moon lightened up the sky, shining through the leaves now and then, so she was able to proceed.
She had no idea where she was going, but she assumed that she was fleeing deeper into what seemed to be an older part of the forest. The undergrowth was thicker here, twigs leaving bloody scratches on her face and naked arms as she struggled to find a way through it. The trees looked gnarled and ancient, and they stood closer together now, making it difficult for her to walk between them without stumbling over their roots.
Eventually, she came to a place where the forest became so dense it swallowed the last bit of moonlight passing through the canopy of leaves. Igraine paused for a moment and looked for a way out, but it was pitch dark. She stretched out her arms and made a few cautious steps forward, careful not to run into a tree-trunk. It would be too humiliating if Elathan found her lying knocked out on the forest floor. But the darkness deepened even more, and it was clear that she would never make it to the other side of the woods this way.
Deciding that it was the best to return to where she had come from, she noticed that she had lost her sense of direction completely. Not knowing what to do, she turned to the nearest tree and threw her arms around the trunk. There, she pressed her cheek against the rough bark and closed her eyes.
When she felt a paralyzing fear rising up inside her, Igraine forced herself to breathe steadily. She couldn’t help thinking about Elathan. Since they had united their blood, she was bound to him with heart and soul. Even if he wasn’t near, even if he was the one who sent her into this utter darkness, she still could feel his powerful presence, his strength comforting her.
She imagined him standing in the clearing, motionless like the age-old trees, as his sharp eyes scanned the darkness, searching for her. There was no doubt that he would come for her as soon as the hour had passed, and try to reclaim what was now rightfully his. She didn’t dare to think about what would happen when he caught her. Despite the fact that he was the hunter and she his game, the knowledge that he would find her eventually gave her the courage to move on.
Something tickled her nose, not more than a wisp of air. She opened her eyes and winced when she saw a tiny light ball dancing directly before her face. At first she thought it was a glow worm, but when she took a closer look she recognized a little, human-like creature flying inside the orb, so small she could hardly see it. Instantly, she realized that this must be a fairy, one of the magic beings inhabiting the forest.
Igraine smiled at the fairy, and it answered with a high giggle that sounded like bells on a winter sleigh. She stretched out a finger to touch the tiny creature, who quickly drew aside and flew away, stopping in the air at a few paces’ distance. There it paused and called out to Igraine with its fine, melodic voice. Igraine was so enchanted that it took her a while to r
ealize that the fairy wanted her to follow.
There was no way to know if the fairy would show her a way out of this pitch-dark wood, but so far she had no better idea. Moving on in the direction the dancing light bulb indicated, she passed two trees, the space between them just large enough for her to press through. There was a high giggling from the right, and when Igraine turned her head, there were more little light balls flying towards the place she stood, joining the first one. They danced all around her, whirling around her head until she was dizzy, leaving tiny sparkling stars that lingered a while in the air after they were gone. The night was filled with the fairies' laughter. It sounded like hundreds of silver bells ringing at the same time.
After a while they seemed to form a row and flew ahead, hovering in the air until Igraine began to follow. They led her to a forest path so narrow she never would have found it on her own, then urged her to walk on it. The fairies were constantly swirling around her, their high voices chatting in a language she couldn’t understand.
The trail wound its way through the forest, and she went along with the fairies for a time that felt like forever for her. Amazed by their presence, Igraine nearly forgot that she had to escape Elathan before he caught up with her.
Suddenly the path came to an end, and she saw that they had left the shelter of the trees. She was standing before a vast expanse of open land, another part of the forest hardly visible in the distance. The moon shone brightly, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she could see her surroundings again. Pools of black water were everywhere, with dry ground in between where grass and bushes grew. There even stood some forlorn trees here and there, stretching out their twisted, naked branches to the night sky.
Igraine became aware that she stood at the edge of a moor. There was no sound aside from the occasional call of a night bird. Igraine looked around, realizing that the high-pitched voices of the fairies had fallen silent. The little lights were nowhere to be seen, it was like they had never existed. She wondered if they had merely been an illusion her panic-stricken mind had conjured up to calm her. But the fairies had been there, just a moment ago. Her skin still tingled in places they had touched.
Bound to the Prince Page 10
