Bound to the Prince (31 page)

After giving her exact directions where to
find the hidden army in the woods and to overcome the magic barrier
he rose and bowed before Igraine. “Farewell, my Lady, until we meet
again. If you need anything, call Eamon, the innkeeper. You can
trust him. And remember, it is of the utmost importance that the
prince lives. His people need him. You know, as you are his slave
of pleasure and took his blood, you have become a part of him. If
the need should arise …” to her disbelief the elf blushed deeply,
right up to the roots of his copper hair, “I am sure that you know
how to give a part of your strength to him. It would be the most
powerful healing possible, much more than my own magic can
achieve.”

She nodded, understanding his meaning. “I
would gladly let him drink my last drop of blood if this would save
him, Calatin. Rest assured that he will join you and your men very
soon.”

He threw a worried glance over to the bed,
but presented her with a roguish smile before he left the room.
“You are a very brave human if I ever saw one, Igraine. I already
feel sorry for Elathan’s enemies should they ever cross your way,
and I hope I can witness that day.”

She stared after him, feeling very lonely all
of a sudden, stranded in this world. Sighing, she allowed herself a
moment of self-pity. If the prince should not survive, where should
she go?

Except that he would not die, not as long as
she had a say in this. A low noise from the bed made her whirl
around.

“Igraine?” whispered Elathan, stretching out
his hand to her. There was a feverish gleam in his eyes, and his
face was nearly as pale as the sheets he lay on.

Her sleeping prince had awakened at last.

* * * * *

Elathan groaned with pain when he tried to
sit upright, cursing under his breath. “Damn grass demons. I hope I
killed them all.”

Igraine hurried to his side and took his
hand. “Actually, you have. But now we’ll have to make sure that
they didn’t kill you as well. Lie down,” she ordered with such a
firm voice that the prince’s brows lifted questioningly. “Their
poison has weakened you, my Prince,” she continued. When he lay
back on the bed and closed his eyes, she tenderly kissed his brow.
He smiled weakly. “With such loving care, I’ll heal in no time. I
assume that you somehow managed to bring me to the inn. What
happened? Last thing I remember is …”

“We can talk later. Rest now, beloved,” she
said before thinking about how to address him properly. “My Lord,”
she corrected herself, but the prince did not seem to mind at all,
for he still smiled with closed eyelids. Maybe his smile was even a
bit wider now. She brought a cup of water to his lips, and after a
few sips he drifted back into sleep again – but it was a good kind
of sleep now, not the deep unconsciousness that had taken hold of
him before.

He didn’t let go of her hand, so Igraine
settled down on the bed beside him. Resting her head on his
shoulder, she could not resist burying her face in his silken mass
of hair. It was irresistible to be surrounded once more by his
wonderful scent. She would never get enough of him if she lived a
hundred years – which wasn’t very likely, she added sadly in her
thoughts. What she wouldn’t give to spend her whole life with him
or be immortal so she would never have to leave his side. But it
was useless to contemplate the possibilities now, when she was so
tired. She had hardly slept since they had reached the inn, so now
she surrendered to her body’s needs while she snuggled as close as
possible to Elathan’s body without causing him pain.

It was deep into the night when she sat bolt
upright, startled out of sleep when she felt the heat of his skin
under her cheek. A candle burned on the bedside table. Doubtless
the innkeeper’s wife, Rhea, had lit it while they slept, although
she had never heard her entering the room. The full-figured elven
woman had been very kind to Igraine and provided her with new
clothes – they were simple, a long-sleeved grey tunic with tight
trousers and a hooded cloak, but they fit perfectly and were made
of the finest light wool. Thankfully, Igraine’s boots had survived
the journey so far. A hearty meal of broth, bread and cheese had
been left for them on the larger table in the middle of the room,
along with a pitcher of fresh water and clean linens. She only
remembered that she had awoken for a few moments, quickly
undressing since the feverish prince had been more than enough to
keep her warm.

Seriously worried now, she swung her legs
over the edge of the bed and pulled down the covers. Elathan’s
naked body, though still strong and heavily muscled, seemed to burn
with an inner fire. His skin had an unhealthy glow now, and he
didn’t sweat, which would have helped break the fever. When she
took a wet cloth and tried to cool his face, his eyes opened for a
moment, staring at her with an otherworldly shine. He tilted his
head to the side as if he was thinking about something, then he
seemed to recognize her. “Sweet Igraine,” he whispered
hoarsely.

She screamed out with surprise when suddenly
he grabbed her waist and pulled her into a tight embrace. Rolling
on his side, he pressed her down into the soft sheets with his
weight. She enjoyed the feeling for a moment before she pushed her
hands against his wide chest. “My Prince,” she gasped, “you
shouldn’t …”

Her words were lost when he bent his head and
kissed her like a drowning man, with an untamed passion that made
her body react instantly. He held her so tightly that there was no
chance of escape, so she just surrendered and kissed him back with
all her longing. She realized that he was still lost in his
feverish dreams and reacting instinctively to the closeness of her
female presence. But it felt so good being alive, to be close to
someone who wanted her like this, desired her with a fierce
yearning that consumed them both in a fire that could only be
quenched by their mating. She moaned into his hot mouth when his
tongue parted her lips and mated with hers in a slow, sensual
dance. His taste was intoxicating, like strong red wine, and his
kiss, his every touch, so incredibly male.

Burning with fever, the elf's body showed no
sign of weakness when she felt his delicious size at her thigh,
rubbing seductively against her soft skin. God, how she wanted him
inside her. She wriggled and tried to maneuver him to the place
where she needed him most, but even now he played the game with his
own rules. His satisfied, deep laughter made her furious, and she
grabbed his shoulders to push him down to make him enter her
body.

“Mine,” he whispered again and again,
covering her breasts with his strong hands. He rubbed her bosom as
if he tenderly stroked the fur of a cat, and she pushed her aching
peaks against his palms. Moaning, she threw back her head and bared
her neck to him. Instantly she felt his lips on her throat.
Kissing, biting, stroking her with his tongue he worked his way up
to her earlobe and sucked it into his mouth. When his teeth grazed
her delicate skin there, she shivered with desire.

Unexpectedly, he shoved his arms under her
body to lift her up to him, and his hands took hold of her upper
arms, making her unable to move away. Whimpering, she spread her
thighs for him and wrapped her long legs around his waist. Needing
no further invitation, the prince rubbed against the petals of her
womanhood, damp and ready for his touch. When he slipped into her
satin flesh, he bit her neck like a mating wolf, and she cried out
with pleasure. His sharp teeth tenderly pricked her skin, just deep
enough to get a taste of her sweet blood, and he licked it off
hungrily, primitive sounds of lust escaping his throat.

He started moving inside her with heavy
thrusts, and she knew how much he had been holding back whenever
they had made love before. His primal side had taken possession of
him now the fever clouded his mind. She knew that her human body
was presumably too weak to endure an elven male’s unrestricted
passion, but she did not care, determined to give him all her
strength, her spark of life, if he needed it to survive. Seized by
a flood of sensation so intense it took her breath away, she came
for the first time. It was a feeling like floating away, with a
tidal wave that had just reached the shore and drew back into the
ocean, powerful, irresistible. She felt his strong heart beating
rapidly inside his chest while he took her gift of vitality,
healing his poisoned body. For an instant, he tried to pull away,
but she held him close inside the prison of her thighs. Urging him
to move on, she pressed him even deeper into her core.

Unable to control himself any longer, he
pounded into her with slamming thrusts, groaning like a wild beast
while he took all he needed and what she gave away so lovingly. His
hard shaft grew even more inside her, and the tight walls of her
womanhood were stretched until she thought she could take no more.
Never had she experienced a feeling so exquisite like this total
surrender. A woman’s lustful screams echoed from the walls of the
chamber, and she realized they were her own. She climaxed again and
again, writhing beneath him, and every time was better than the
last. It was as if they became one while he healed, body and soul,
and she felt him regain his strength as the poison was forced out
of his blood. Massaging him with her inner muscles, she took him
deeper, deeper, sucking him in until she felt his explosion. This
time it was she who lay her brow against his in his final moment of
ecstatic pleasure, and suddenly it was her own, making her convulse
a very last time around him. They both cried out when their
shattering relief came, and he spilled his seed of life inside her
sweet depths.

Igraine heard Elathan’s voice inside her
head, saying the same words over and over again.
Tá grá agam
duit.
She knew what it meant.
I love you.
Her heart sang
with overflowing joy. This wonderful, glorious creature loved her,
and she returned his feelings, with all her heart. Before her
strength finally faded and she drifted away into the welcoming
darkness, she sent him a thought, hoping he would hear her in his
mind. Closing her eyes, she sensed his overwhelming happiness that
turned into a rush of fear when he perceived her last words.

I love you, and I always will. Now live, my
Prince. Live for us both.

* * * * *

Warm, soothing water surrounded her body and
caressed her skin. It was a wonderful feeling, snug and
comfortable, and she told herself that being dead wasn’t so bad
after all. But when her consciousness slowly floated back to the
surface she knew that it was not just the water she felt touching
her skin, but the warmth of a hand. Long fingers grazed the side of
her neck, her shoulders and trailed down her back, slowly, slowly,
then up again, along her spine. She sighed with pleasure when the
second hand joined the first, reaching around her waist until she
was encircled by strong arms. Smiling, she relaxed in that loving
embrace, noticing when she lay back that there was a large body
behind her, and it was undoubtedly male. She was resting against a
wide, hard chest; muscular thighs touched the outside of her
legs.

“Elathan,” she breathed. “Then I’m not dead?
Or you are, too.” She opened her eyes for a moment and saw that she
was sitting in the large wooden bathtub in front of the fireplace.
And she was not bathing alone.

There was a deep chuckle behind her. “On the
contrary, my dear. I just intended to show you that I’m very much
alive.” The proof of his vitality pressed considerably against her
hip. When he bowed over her to nibble softly at her ear, his hair
fell like a curtain of silvery gold over her. The silken strands
stuck to her wet skin. A sudden playful mood made Igraine raise her
hand and tug at one of them.

“Ow,” he said, although it couldn’t have hurt
him much. “I’m glad to see you feel well enough to start torturing
me again. You are worse than one of those grass demons.”

“Now that they’re gone, someone has to do
it,” she laughed, “or you’ll get too haughty and arrogant, my
Lord.”

“Oh, that’s what you think I am?” he growled.
“Haughty indeed. That’s why I have no scruples to seek my pleasure
with my human lover, even if she has just nearly died to save my
precious royal ass.”

She was so shocked by this very unprincely
comment that she started to giggle uncontrollably. The sound of
laughter soon turned into a low moan when the prince chose to cup
her breasts in his hands while he bit the back of her neck, just
enough to give her a delicious amount of pain.

Suddenly he drew back. “But on the other
hand, I should wash you first. You did become quite dirty when you
carried me across the plains.”

“Actually, it was Ahearn who carried you. But
I guess I really needed a bath.”

“That’s exactly why I put you inside here. I
knew it would help to revive you. Of course I had to use my healing
powers on you first. You should have kept some of your strength for
yourself.”

He touched a bruise on her arm with his hand,
and a soft golden light emanated from his palm. It filled her with
warmth, and she felt her flesh heal quickly. “It’s the same kind of
magic I use to create fire. Depends on how much I use.”

“In my world, they say that every poison can
also be used as a medicine, to heal. It’s only a matter of
dosage.”

“So it’s possible that our worlds are not so
different, after all.”

“Oh yes, they are. I really don’t think that
a man like you exists in my world.”

He growled. “I certainly hope not. Do I have
to remind you that I’m an elf, not a man? If any other should ever
try to touch you, I’d have to kill him anyway.”

She gulped, realizing that it would be wise
not to tell him about the kiss Calatin stole. But the thought of
the magician warrior reminded her of a message she had to
deliver.