The Warder's Elf
Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : Viola Grace
Word Count :12500
Publication Date :2010-08-16
Series : Warders#7
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-55487-393-7
Alora was bound by her ancestor's promise to become a bride for a Dark Elf lord. Caldur was that lord. Having waited in his underground caverns for centuries, he finally made his move. Grabbing the wrong Warder the first time--The Warder's Unicorn--had the interesting effect of bringing Alora to him, but that one error would cost him. Bringing Alora into the full bloom of what her bloodline carried would be a challenge, but he has ways of keeping her from fighting him all the way. With his help, the Magic of the Warders would come again to Realm.
"Now, what to do with my bride?" Lord Caldur paced around her, looking her over from head to toe as if she was some livestock he wanted to purchase, or had purchased for that matter. "I don't think I want you to run."
She kept her head down and whispered, "I won't run. I promise."
He laughed. "Pardon me if I don't take the promises of your family at face value. It has taken them over three hundred years to fulfill this promise and I don't hazard another one. No. I have a remedy for possible escape. Shall I show you?"
She looked at him, mute. He had a right to be ticked with her family. The honourable thing would be to go along with whatever he had planned over the last few hundred years while her ancestress had kept him from starting his own family. Caldur held out his hand for her to take and when she slipped her pale fingers into his dark granite grip, a shiver ran through her.
He led her back to the open doors behind the throne. Silently, she followed his lead as he hauled her to a large chest at the side of his bed. Caldur extracted delicate bands of silver and held them out to her. "These bands will keep you within fifty yards of me at all times. Put them on."
Her hand shook as she took the first band and snapped it into place around her wrist. A chill ran down her spine as the energy in the band spread up her arm and locked her into a ward. The second band on her other arm clicked shut with a finality that shook her.
"The ankle bands need to go against your skin. Remove your trousers." He had moved a few feet away and watched her discomfort with a certain amount of amusement. "I have to say, that if your cousin was here, this would involve a lot more cursing."
Being compared to Sephany hurt. "I am sure it would." Her words were so soft she didn't even know if she had spoken out loud. To subvert his desire to have her strip, she flipped off her shoes, peeled off her socks and rolled her jeans up to mid-calf. The snap of the cuffs came faster now. She didn't hesitate, simply snapped them in place and stood.
"There is one more." Dangling from his fingertips was a delicate collar of finely wrought design. "Put it on."
She was stuck. Alora had worn a turtleneck to the party with her black jeans. The only way to attach the band was to remove her shirt. The glint in his eyes said he knew it. "Fine." She turned her back to him and pulled the shirt over her head, then combed her hair down over her chest. Her bra covered most of the curves of her breasts and it was only that covering that enabled her to face him. Taking in a shaking breath, she turned back to him.
"What is that?" He leaned back and made her reach forward for the collar.
It took her a bit of angling, but she was able to catch it with her fingers. "It's called a bra. It's a new type of corset, it only supports the breasts." The effort involved in closing the clasp on the collar was far more than the other cuffs. She took a deep breath, relaxed and the snick of the latch finally echoed in her ears. Letting her air out on a sigh, she reached quickly to put her shirt back on. Caldur jerked it away.
"I don't think I like this new clothing." He kept her shirt in his hand as he walked over to the wardrobe and selected a deep green gown for her. "Put this on. But it is designed to be worn over bare skin. That bra will be out of place under it."
Her mouth opened and closed without sound. "What about my panties, can I keep them?"
"Show them to me and I will let you know." He draped the gown over the foot of the bed and lay down to watch her strip.
"You are kidding."
"I am not. You are my bride and we will consummate our union in short order. But not until we have dinner. You seem a little tense and I think a meal will relax you." He sprawled on the bed with his hands tucked behind his head, waiting for the show.
"Tense? You think this is tense? I just volunteered to what basically amounts to a life sentence down here!" Irritated as hell, she finally was pushed to the limit and her clothing went flying as she stripped to the skin. "Take a good look, asshole!" She was shrieking loudly as she spun so he could take a gander at her pale skin. Freckles dusted the ivory of her elbows and knees, danced across her cheekbones. Her breasts were proportional, a solid 36C that didn't like being unconfined. They bounced too much. Her hips made shopping for jeans a nightmare, and her favourite feature, her ankles, were confined by the cuffs.
He was blinking at her in surprise as she darted forward and pulled her new gown over her head. She hissed in irritation when she pulled it on backward, then fought free and made the vee of the neck find its way into the appropriate location. "There. Done. Happy?"
He stood and approached until she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. His hands wrapped around her and she stiffened. She jumped as he tugged at the laces on the back of the gown until her breasts were thrust forward and the fabric of the dress was taut against her.
"Not happy yet, but terribly impressed." He tied her laces tight and then jerked her against him. "I didn't think there was any fire under that calm exterior."