An elven prince without a throne. A mortal woman without hope, stolen from her own world to fulfill his every desire. A choice of love and death that could bind them together forever. Some people believe that beneath our own world, separated only by a thin veil of human disbelief, there is another one - an ancient land of myths and legends, a place where magical creatures dwell. What would happen if one of them walked the streets of London at night? Once a proud warrior, elven prince Elathan was living in exile, fallen from grace and separated from his own people. He wanted the mortal woman the moment he saw her standing on Blackfriars Bridge, staring down into the darkness with unbearable pain in her eyes. This strangely compelling female also happened to have luscious curves that made his body ache with desire. Naturally, he decided to hunt the woman down, drag her to his lair and command her to become his slave of pleasure. But would her frail human body survive a night of untamed passion in the arms of a Fae? After a devastating breakup with her fiancé, Igraine Chandler was spending her honeymoon in England all by herself, her life utterly bereft of meaning. For who could ever love a plain, slightly overweight nurse from New Jersey with nothing left but a broken heart and her lost dreams of a home and a family? But she never imagined that she would soon set out into a world beyond her wildest dreams, and help a prince reclaim his throne ... ****"Too long have I lived in this darkness, human," he said, so close to her that his lips touched her earlobe, light as a butterfly's wing. "Alone." Igraine felt the elf's hot breath as it caressed her cheek. He lowered his head slightly, inhaling deeply. She knew he was taking in her scent. Despite her fear, the urge to touch him was growing so strong that she started to reach out to him. He caught both of her wrists with one of his large hands, pinning them against the wall so she was his helpless prey once again. She gasped when she felt his tongue touch the sensitive spot right below her ear, licking her very softly as if he wanted to taste her before eating her alive. His beauty, his seductive voice were the predator's way of lulling his prey into a false sense of security before killing, without regret. "So warm, so alive," he murmured. "And yet you are doomed to die, with every breath you take." His lips moved downwards, along the side of her neck where the blood rapidly pulsated in her carotid artery. She felt his teeth graze her skin right there. She never saw it coming. If he had attacked, intending to kill her, she wouldn't have been surprised. But the elf moved so quickly that she couldn't comprehend what was happening to her. Still imprisoning her hands above her head, he used his free arm to pull her nearer to his body until only a thin layer of fabric separated them. He crushed her to him so forcefully it hurt, but she didn't care. Breathing was difficult, anyway. Suddenly, he let her wrists go and entwined his fingers in her curls. He lifted one of the auburn tresses to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. "Beautiful," he murmured softly. Then he grabbed a fistful of hair at her neck and pulled her head back. Trapped, she faced him in the darkness while the prince bowed his head to capture her lips ... ****Book One in Deborah Court's Elven Warrior Trilogy.