He tossed her onto his horse, swinging up into the saddle behind her. It had all happened so fast, her capture, and her lucky escape, that she hadn’t even had time to think. But now… now Bren had her, and everything would be all right.
She leaned against him in the saddle, turning her head up to look at him. “You came for me.”
“Always, my heart”, he said close to her ear. “As long as there is breath in my body.”
Just as he would have leaned further to steal a kiss, he caught a sudden movement among the trees. The flicker of light on the blade of a sword. And the muffled sound of hooves on the peaty earth. A second line of guards. Damn. Instinctively, he pushed Faith down flat against the horse’s neck, drawing his weapon, his muscles tensing, his mind focused. Around him, his men did the same. There was no sound as they waited, ready, like a bow drawn taught and set to fire.
Faith lay motionless against the horse’s neck, her hands entwined in the thick mane, prepared to hold on for dear life. Behind her, she could feel the tension and the tightly leashed power of Bren’s muscular body. The silence around them was not peaceful; instead it felt threatening. She could feel the subtle shift of Bren’s thighs behind hers as he gave a silent command to the stallion. When the attack came, he was ready. She felt the movement of the air as he lifted his sword and slashed downward with incredible force. Although her eyes were tightly closed and her face buried in the horse’s mane, she could hear the thick sound of the blade meeting flesh, again and again. She stayed where she was, not daring to move an inch lest she get in the way of that slashing sword.
At last she felt Bren’s arms come around her, pulling her back against him, and she let go her death-grip on the horse, holding the saddle instead. It was over, or so she thought.
As the horses fled at full speed, their hooves thundering against the earth, the blind courage she had managed to hold on to long enough to get away from the cave quickly drained away. As the rush of adrenaline faded, her muscles began to feel weak and tremble, as if she’d run a great distance. And the danger was not over yet, in fact it was following them, gathering strength at an alarming rate as they raced for the safety of Creagmor.
She might have thought it was just a sudden storm if she hadn’t heard the steady string of curses Bren uttered as he urged the horse to go even faster. They flew along a narrow path through the trees, the horse swerving this way and that to avoid low hanging branches, but some smaller ones still slapped against her legs.
The wind was picking up, howling through the tree tops now. The air felt colder, darker somehow, even though it wasn’t yet full night. The very earth seemed to shudder in furious protest to the unwelcome force, and its malevolent intent. It seemed that they rode this way for hours, Bren’s arms still wrapped around her, until finally Faith thought the lay of the land was beginning to look more familiar.
She was right, the stone circle was just ahead; she could see its outline in the distance in stark relief against the dusky sky. When they had reached its edge, Bren pulled the horse to a stop, as did the other men. He jumped off, pulling her down after him, not letting go of her for even a second. He slapped the horse on the flank, sending it home and out of harm’s way, then he turned and took her hand, running with her towards the stones.
“Damn”, Bren swore under his breath, as he pulled her along behind him. Eian followed, and Drust appeared fromthe direction of the castle, all of them racing for the circle of standing stones, and the center of their clan’s power and strength. Mored had managed to use dark magic to take on a different form, one made up more of energy than of human flesh. In the folklore of Scotland, such dark magic was called the banshee, and the screaming of the storm echoed through the trees and off of the hills. The power was growing closer, stronger, eager to destroy.
Though there was no rain, lightning forked through the sky, and the smell of electricity permeated the air. The circle of stones was just before them, and a strong gust of wind, shrieking and carrying with it flying dirt and leaves, pushed them forward into its center. Bren immediately pressed Faith to the ground.
“Stay down! Dinna move until I come for ye, do ye understand?”
Faith glanced up and nodded, her arms over her head to shield her face from the wind and flying debris. Then Bren and his brothers moved without pause to three points within the circle, dropping to their knees and pressing their palms to the sacred earth. After a moment, they all looked up, almost as one, and the same baffled expression crossed their faces. Eian and Drust stood and rushed to Bren, who was now watching Faith with a growing look of panic.
Drust looked at the lass, who was huddled in the center of the circle, looking a bit terrified, but so far unhurt. He looked from the lass back to Bren, and ducked down as a gale swept by, skimming the tops of the stones. The terrible roar and whine of it all was making it hard to see, harder to speak.
“Bren, what is wrong? The Chief of the Mac Coinnachs has found his mate; the circle should be complete. This should be working! Why isna it working Bren?”
Bren met his brother’s eyes, and Drust could not have missed the turmoil there. He narrowed his own eyes in suddensuspicion, and Eian abruptly reached the same conclusion. “Ye have no’ claimed her? Hell, Bren, ye havena claimed her?” He slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead in disbelief. “Of all the damn women ye’ve ever had, there’s one! Only one woman that ye actually needed to tup! The one that’s yers! And ye havena tupped her? Bren?”
Around them the fury of the storm that wasn’t really a storm continued to intensify, and they had to shield their eyes from the wind-ridden debris, and shout to make themselves heard. There wasn’t much time, and Bren knew it. His brothers could see the answer in his eyes. He hadn’t claimed her yet, though not from lack of trying! And now… now he had no choice. He started to stand, but stopped abruptly as a new thought entered his mind; one he had never really considered before. Was she a virgin? He honestly didn’t know, but the idea of taking a virgin in such a cruel and unspeakable way made his stomach clench and his heart sink.
Drust reached out impatiently and tugged Bren to his feet. “Now! Ye have to do it now!”
Bren took in a deep breath. “Ah, bloody damnable hell!” But the gusts of wind were coming ever faster, and now they each seemed to carry a darkness with them, a color deeper than the surrounding dusk. Dark magic. His brothers were right, he had to claim his mate, right now. Even if she might never forgive him, the alternative was far worse. He would just have to spend forever making it up to her in any way he could.
Eian and Drust had moved to the edge of the circle and considerately turned their backs. “Hurry, Bren! We dinna have all night!” Eian shouted, sensing that his brother was still hesitating.
Bren steeled himself and turned towards Faith, who sat on the ground in the dim light, her arms held up to shield her head, her hair blown loose from its binding and whippingaround her in all directions. Flashes of lightning showed him her face, watching him, her eyes wide, her lips parted. Against all odds, his body hardened for her. Even knowing what he had to do to her, even as his mind railed against it, against taking her here like this, his heart was beating impossibly fast. He began walking towards her, and with every step closer, a primal lust built within him, fueled even further, no doubt, by the dark energy swirling ever stronger around them. He moved like a predator, closing in on his prey, his mind flooding with the primitive urge to take his mate, vanquishing all other thoughts. He could not have stopped. She was his, and it was time.
Faith watched Bren coming towards her, saw the moment his face changed from anguished acceptance to fierce intent. And then she knew, instinctively what he was about to do to her. She also knew there would be no stopping him. She struggled to watch him in the fierce wind, pushing her hair repeatedly back from her face. She could hear nothing but the sound of it rushing past her ears, and there was a strange scent in the air, acrid and vile.
She had wanted Bren, and despite her earlier misgivings, she now knew what kind of man he was. She was willing; she would have given him her body without reserve, but not like this! She could never have imagined it would come to this! Her eyes swept the circle around her. There were Eian and Drust, their backs turned as if not to witness her humiliation as she was about to lose her virginity in the crudest of ways. It all had to do with the storm; something about it was not right, not natural. It was too dark, too intense. The air was heavy, the colors… wrong. She knew without a doubt that this was evil, and that she had not escaped Mored when she fled from the cave. He had been right behind her all the time.
But she had a part in all of this; she knew it, and it was no minor role. She could see it in the way Bren was looking at herwith such fierce intent. She had a choice, and only mere seconds to decide. She could fight, and lose, against both Bren and the darkness, or she could play her part, willingly. She could accept her destiny and embrace the warrior that now knelt over her, huge and strong and terrifying. This was the dangerous man she had been warned of. But it was also the man that she loved. And she had made her decision. It didn’t matter how they came together… only that they did.
***
Bren fell to his knees as if in a trance, straddling Faith’s body, pressing her down to the earth. He saw the fear in her eyes, and his chest tightened, but he had already gone beyond all hope of reason or tenderness. Something inside him had snapped as soon as he touched her, and he could no longer control the beast rising within him, overwhelming what had been the civilized parts of him. The dark magic beckoned him, taunted him, but it was the woman beneath him that held him enthralled. As he bent to her, the world around him faded, and there was only her scent, the warmth of her skin, the frantic pounding of her heart. He closed in and took her mouth in a fierce kiss, hard and relentless. He didn’t notice whether she struggled against him, he was far too consumed with the need of her. The need to claim his mate, to merge as one. His groin pulsed, ached, throbbed, and he threw his head back, gasping with the agony of it, even as his hands went to the edge of his kilt to shove the fabric out of the way. He thought he heard soft cries as he heedlessly pushed Faith’s skirts up around her hips, but it didn’t matter. Nothing, nothing mattered but being inside of her.
The wind still howled around them, and now the rumble of thunder shook the very earth, and Bren reached for Faith in desperate, feverish need. He lowered himself over her, until the tip of his cock touched her soft opening. He gasped, his body trembling. After this moment, she would be his and his alone forevermore, and no other man would ever touch her again. Then he thrust, hard, tearing into her, tearing through her in one swift motion. He roared in ecstasy, drowning out her cry of pain. His body no longer his to control, he drove hard into her, again and again. The world could have ended all around them, and still he wouldn’t have stopped. It was the best and the worst moment of his life, all in one beautiful, horrifying instant.
***
Faith had braced herself for the pain she knew would come, but still a scream rose in her throat. It was agony, that first invasion of his body into hers. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head to the side, clenching her teeth until the worst of it had passed. The pain quickly lessened to an aching burn, and she looked up at him. Despite the desperate circumstances and the chaos all around them, she was in awe of what she was feeling in that moment. Peace. Happiness. Love, for a man she barely knew, but couldn’t bear to be without. She knew that in time she would come to know his heart as well as she knew her own, perhaps even more so.
