Bound to the Elvin Prince

Chapter 1

Students' voices buzzed around Cal Warner like bothersome gnats in the sterile hallway of her Wisconsin college in Murren. Glare from the overhead lights flooded her eyes, making her temples pound. With a glower, she gazed at the floor before shaking her head.

She couldn't go on this way. But if she told her tale, the only help she'd probably receive would be a trip to the psychiatric ward. A shudder raced up her spine, and goose bumps popped up on her skin.

No, she'd been down that path before. Nobody had believed her then. Nobody would believe her now. All she wanted was the "average" life of a twenty-two-year-old college student. She snorted. Whatever that was. Still, this was her last year of undergrad, and nothing should wreck that feeling of accomplishment.

"Um, Cal, what are you shaking your head about? You look like you just saw Big Jimmy's massive collection of chest hair or something."

Maggie's words pierced her reverie like a knife, and she jumped in surprise. The books in her arms fell with a loud thud that echoed in the hallway, drowning out the swarm of voices. Students turned and stared.

"Damn it! And I really don't want to hear about your cousin's chest hair." She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm her pounding heart. Maggie wasn't to blame. Her own lack of attention claimed that honor. An apologetic smile curved her lips before she stooped down to pick up her belongings.

Maggie crouched to help, her brown hair falling over her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Cal forced out a laugh and took the book Maggie handed her. If she didn't want Maggie to ask questions, she'd need to focus on the world occurring outside her fantasies. "It's okay. I should know better than to daydream and walk at the same time. That's just asking for trouble."

"Hmm, okay." Doubt flickered over Maggie's face before a look of mischief replaced it. "Well, Calantha, are you ready to study?"

Cal groaned as she stepped through the doorway of the study lounge. What had her Greek mother been thinking by foisting that name on her? Thankfully, the rest of her friends and family simply called her Cal. "Oh, I don't know, Margaret. Am I?"

"Shh, don't call me that here. People may overhear." Maggie peered around in a faux attempt at panic.

She snorted at her friend's antics. "I don't know about you at times. You're such a drama queen."

Maggie plopped down in the chair next to her. "You know you love it. Besides, it's not like you're normal. Your tendency to appear all daydream-ish, along with my avant-garde personality, grabs us strange looks wherever we go."

Cal froze at the truth of that statement, a smile pasted to her face. Oh, the irony. "Thanks for reminding me. You have to admit we mesh well in our weirdness."

"Without a doubt." As if not noticing Cal's strained tone, she plowed on ahead. "Do you think this has something to do with our boyfriend-less state?"

Cal leaned forward and cupped her chin in her hand. Remaining pessimistic with Maggie around was impossible. "Possibly. We do seem to frighten all the sane guys away. Look what happened during our last few dates."

"Speak for yourself, my dates are so..." A chagrined expression spread over Maggie's features. "Horrible. Yeah, you got me there. Do you think we emit vibes that attract all the weirdoes? I mean, come on, the last guys either had enough piercings to rival the moles on my Aunt Edna's neck or enough hair to make Jimmy's chest whimper in jealousy. As if I'd ever date anybody who has more holes in their body or longer hair than I do."

The dryness of Maggie's voice coaxed a laugh from her. "The piercings in your ears, nose, tongue, and belly button are enough for you?"

Maggie sniffed. "You know I took out the tongue one. The guys who hit on me seemed to get off on it, wanting to drop their pants without even a hello." Her nose scrunched up. "Perfectly good waste of a tongue bar. Perverts."