Bound to the Prince (23 page)

“We are there,” he said. She felt his long
fingers untying the knot behind her head, removing the black silk.
The light hurt her eyes at first, and she shielded them with one
hand. It took her a while before the blind spots disappeared from
her vision, but then she saw it.

They stood at the edge of a thickly forested
ravine, the slope plunging steeply down into the tops of the huge,
old trees that grew up from below. Igraine thought she glimpsed
oaks, hickories, wild olives and cedars there, a lush variety of
nature in all its glorious forms. On the far opposite side of the
ravine she saw the rugged cliff of a mountain, only sparsely
scattered with pines. The grey, unyielding rock stood in stark
contrast to the trees covering the ravine floor like a green sea,
their leaves softly waving in the breeze. A massive waterfall
cascaded down the mossy cliff over a river, seeking its way along
the foot of the mountain. The spraying water reflected the
blue-green colors of the sky and surrounding trees, giving life to
the plants below.

A falcon high over them spread its wings and
dived down through the air to the ravine, carried by the winds
which had brought him here. Igraine believed it was the same one
whose cries she had heard on the way. He seemed to have followed
them.

She did not notice the single tear that
rolled down her cheek until Elathan caught it with his finger and
wiped it away tenderly. Then he touched the salty moistness with
his dark lips, tasting it.

“Do you like my surprise, sweet Igraine?” he
asked, his voice deep and low. “It is a beautiful sight indeed,
even for the eyes of an immortal. In my long life I have seen many
wondrous lands, but none of them could be compared with this place.
I never showed it to anyone before.”

She didn’t answer but turned her head to the
prince, looking up into his amber eyes. They rested on her face
with a warm, yet unfathomable expression. It was astounding how
different he looked and acted now. He hardly resembled the
embittered, cynical warrior she had encountered in the caves
anymore. That other Elathan had been brooding, dangerous and darkly
seductive. He hadn't smiled or told her stories at the fireside,
and she couldn't imagine him rolling around with her on the ground,
laughing.

Igraine opened her lips as words ascended
from the depths of her soul, demanding to be spoken out loud. But
she didn’t dare to cross the line, couldn’t tell him that she loved
him. She was only a lowly human to him; his pampered slave whose
body he owned, even if he honored her and fulfilled her every need.
It was undeniable that he desired her and enjoyed her
companionship. But in his world, she would never be his equal.

All thoughts were forgotten when Elathan
tightened his arms around her, turning her to face him. He
entangled his fingers in the shining mass of her hair and pulled
her up to him, bringing his lips to hers. There he paused for a few
moments. It was strange. Whenever he looked deep into her beautiful
eyes, green and alive like the lush valley before them, he felt
like coming home. The scent of her skin confused his senses; he
wanted to take her again, right here on horseback. It would have
been so easy to lift her skirts and make her sit down on his lap.
He longed for her softness, her moist heat that welcomed him into
her body every time they joined. But she wasn't ready for him again
after he had strained her too much during the last few days. She
needed some rest.

Igraine shivered when the prince’s long
fingers caressed her temples as he took her face into his hands.
Then he lowered his head and kissed her so gently he barely brushed
her mouth with his as their breaths mingled. He closed his eyes
before he began to stroke her softly with his lips, touching not
only her mouth, but her chin, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, one
after another, then her eyelids. His mouth wandered down her face
again, tugging at her lower lip and nibbling a bit before he coaxed
her with his tongue to let him in. His touch had never been so
tender before. She felt his male desire burning under the surface,
but this time he kissed her with deep affection and feeling,
showing her how precious she was to him.

He bent her back in his arms while his kiss
deepened, yet still it was not taunted by raw lust but loving,
cherishing her. Her long dark hair spilled over the sleeve of his
tunic and entwined with his blonde tresses. The elf’s touch was so
pure, so beautiful it brought tears to her closed eyes, and
instinctively she knew that this was a part of himself that he
would not share with any lover. She even doubted if he had ever
kissed a female like that before. It might be presumptuous for a
mere human to think that way, but the blood bond connected them in
more ways than she had expected. Sometimes she did not merely
assume what he was thinking or feeling anymore. She just knew.

When they finally separated, it was Igraine
who broke away from him, breathing heavily. Her hands slid inside
his soft shirt, parting the loosely laced fabric over his broad
chest as she started to place small kisses on his skin, feeling his
strong heartbeat under her cheek. “I want you, my Prince,” she
whispered, starting to kiss his neck.

Elathan groaned, the sound showing his
pleasure but also his effort to control himself. “There is nothing
I wish more than to take you now,
mo ghrá
. But I didn’t
bring you here just to show you this place. I would like you to
meet … let’s say, a very old friend of mine. And we still have a
long way ahead of us if we want to see him before he leaves for the
hunt at night.” He stretched out his hand and gestured to the
waterfall at the other end of the ravine. “This is our
destination.”

He kissed her again, pressing her against his
body to make her feel his desire. Then he turned her around in the
saddle, took up the reins and urged the horse forward to begin the
long descent into the ravine.

Igraine only threw a quick glance at the
deadly steep slope and closed her eyes, clinging to his arm for
dear life.

“I hope you are a good rider, elf,” she
said.

Chapter 16: Old
Friends

It was almost dark by the time they reached
the other side of the ravine. While descending into the green
abyss, Igraine had felt so sick that she was too weak even to
counter the prince’s naughty jokes about questioning his abilities
as a rider. Not talking about horses at all, he assured her that he
would prove his skills to her later, at the same time steering
Ahearn down the side of the wooded mountain with ease. “Frightened
of heights, human?” His words teased her, but his arm tightened
around her protectively, silently telling her that he would not let
her fall.

Having dismounted, they let the horse run
free and stood at the river’s edge. On its other side the waterfall
came rushing down into a large pool of water, a fine mist rising up
from it. The thundering sound drowned out all other noises. Igraine
looked up to Elathan, shrugging her shoulders as if to ask him
where to go next. The elf nodded to the waterfall and started to
lead her across a narrow part of the river where some huge boulders
were standing out from the water, forming a natural bridge. The
stones were slippery, and she grabbed the prince’s outstretched
hand gratefully.

After a few steps, Igraine could hardly see
through the mist, and the ground became slippery. But Elathan led
her safely over the disturbed waters and around the natural pool.
When they reached the massive stone wall, Igraine saw that though
invisible from the other side, there was a path leading behind the
waterfall, where it disappeared into the mountain. “A cave,” she
breathed, stunned. Despite the deafening noise of the streaming
water Elathan heard her, and he nodded, a secretive smile on his
sensuous lips.

They went along the mossy side of the
mountain, pressing their backs against the eternal stone. Igraine
wondered if she would be crushed under the heavy mass of the
waterfall if she tried to go right through it. At last they
proceeded to the gaping hole in the rock and entered the darkness
of the cave. It took a while until her eyes adjusted to the dim
light that still entered the opening. She noticed a tunnel that
seemed to lead downwards. She held on tighter to Elathan, and he
pressed her fingers reassuringly.

The elf stretched out his left hand and
stared at his palm for a moment until a flame appeared on it. Its
magic light showed them the way through the darkened corridor, and
they followed it deeper into the bowels of the mountain, Elathan
leading the way. Igraine knew she should be frightened, and she
was, but the simple joy of holding his hand was stronger than her
fear. It made her feel like she belonged to him. She didn’t know if
he held her in his grasp only to keep her from stumbling and
getting hurt or if he liked their silent companionship just as she
did. But she noticed that the path wasn’t as steep as before, and
there weren’t many rocks to fall over anymore. To be honest, now
she was quite safe to walk on her own. Maybe the prince
liked
holding hands with her, after all. The thought brought
a smile to her face.

The tunnel seemed to curve through the
darkness endlessly. Water was dripping from the walls, but it was
not cold; the air was thick with moisture so it became harder to
breathe with every step they took. Elathan guided her, his strong
fingers determinedly closed around hers. The warmth of his skin
seemed to penetrate her own, and a familiar heat spread in the
lower parts of her body. It was incredible how much she wanted him
even now. Her desire had grown stronger and stronger since they
joined their blood. She couldn’t stay away from him much longer
than a few hours.

Behind a sharp bend the tunnel widened, and
there was a row of small chambers, one leading into the next. It
was pitch dark and silent. Igraine discovered once again that her
senses had sharpened since her bonding with the elf. When she
listened very carefully, she could hear the sounds of little
creatures that lived in the impenetrable darkness and quiet. They
were crawling along the endless galleries of stone, blindly
searching for food or a mate with which to reproduce.

The air grew hotter with every new cave they
entered. Soon Igraine’s dress clung to her body, and she saw tiny
drops of moisture on the prince’s forehead. In some of the chambers
the floor was littered with bones, white remains of unknown
creatures. They shone in the light of Elathan’s flame. Igraine
didn’t dare to examine them closely, not wanting to find out to
which animal – or maybe human being – they once belonged. But there
was no doubt that a predator lived here, lurking somewhere in the
darkness of these caves. Igraine shivered, relieved that the elf’s
strong hand gave her the courage to go on.

They came into another room, partly collapsed
so that only a narrow passage among enormous blocks of stone
allowed them to pass. Igraine ducked under the low opening, closing
her eyes and hoping the heavy rock would not crumble over her head
and bury her alive. But when she straightened on the other side,
she gasped in awe at the spectacular sight that awaited her.

The magic light played on Elathan’s elven
features as he saw her widened eyes, eagerly soaking up all the
wonders his world held in store for her. It seemed that he never
grew tired watching her childlike excitement whenever she
discovered something new. It had become a very satisfying habit to
him to surprise her, show her things she could never have imagined
existed. Seeing the smile on her face, radiating with pure
happiness, filled his heart with a deep peace he had not felt for a
very long time. Over the long years in exile, he had become tired
of life, only revelling in his thirst for revenge, so he had closed
his eyes against beauty in all its forms. Never had he expected to
find it through the eyes of a mortal woman.

They were standing at the entrance to a vast
cave, much larger than the one Elathan used to bathe in. It was
very high, with an arched ceiling. A row of massive pillars made of
white, glittering crystal along the walls reflected the light and
gave the chamber the look of a cathedral. There was a fascinating
variety of forms, an elephant’s foot, a row of sparkling waterfalls
that looked like they had been frozen while falling down from the
walls, the fragile form of a lily growing on the cave floor where a
standing pool of water had once been.

At the far end the cave ended in a labyrinth
of stalagmites and columns, some of them standing so close together
that a grown man could hardly pass through. Igraine let her gaze
wander over the beauty surrounding her, barely aware that the flame
in the prince’s hand had become extinct before he stepped behind
her and enclosed her in his arms, not paying heed to this palace of
eternal stone. His eyes rested on her amazed face alone.

“It’s beautiful,” Igraine whispered, her hand
seeking Elathan’s on her waist.

She felt him nod silently, not knowing that
he was looking at her with an indecipherable expression on his
face. The graceful, high formations of stone surrounded a vast
lake, extending to the far end of the cave. It was not a lake of
water, however, but a crater filled with liquid fire, the molten
lava wavering and bubbling. The surface was smooth and
treacherously dark, like a black egg with cracks in its shell;
between them lay deep-red lines of fire, their deadly heat
threatening every living being that dared to come too near. The
contrast to the lavish decorations of limestone, bathed in the red
glow of the lava, was breathtaking.

“It is called
The Hall of Kings
,”
Elathan said quietly. “The old legends speak of this place, but its
location is unknown. Many of my people do not even believe that it
really exists. Only the king of the elven realms and his heir to
the throne know the secret – and now, you. My father brought me
here when he deemed me old enough to meet him.”