Abigail had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry in front of Broden. Now, however, as the tears fell freely down her cheeks, she wished it was him seeing them rather than…
“Who are ye?” she demanded (again). “What do ye want?”
The five men offered as much response to her repeated questions as they had been: none.
When she’d first encountered them, it had only been the one. Looking between them, however, she couldn’t be sure which one had been the first; everything had happened so fast. She remembered turning to face whoever was following her and stumbling back when the first had made a move to grab her. She’d cried out, though only once, and this had been enough to convince two others to arrive. In a flash, she’d been gagged and bound, but the three had still found themselves struggling to drag her away. Soon after, three had become five and, with their added numbers, hauling her off had been all too simple. What little pride Abigail could take from, for a time, at least, fighting off five large men had all but dried up after finding herself inside the freezing cabin out in the woods with hopeful chatter of ransoms and sabotage…
And murder.
One of the larger men was quick to motion to an assortment of hunting gear, explaining that, when her parents arrived with the money, they were going to make her watch as they skinned them. Once that was done, the money would be theirs, the village in dire need of new leadership, and, “of course,” the daughter of the heinous couple would be at their mercy.
Abigail could only begin to imagine what that would mean for her.
The thought had caused her to pitch forward in fear, the contents in her stomach threatening to come back up. Swallowing the urge, she stopped fighting and fell against the binds they had wrapped around the ceiling pillars. Hanging by her wrists, she continued to lose hope as each minute passed. She would die either way, she was sure, but if they didn’t show up soon she knew they’d start taking their frustrations out on her. Or, as one of the men suggested, use “pieces of her” to create a convincing argument to her parents and finally lure them in.
“Ye better hope they show,” the largest of the five stepped towards her, already beginning to fondle the grip of a knife at his side.
“We should just kill her now,” one of the others grumbled. “They’ll come. One way or the other, they’ll come. Doesn’t matter if she’s alive or no’ when they get here.”
“Shut it, Joss! We got no bargaining chip if she ain’t at least breathing, an’ if the rich bastard decides to get clever and try holding out on us we’re going to need that leverage!”
“I can think o’ plenty to do with her that’ll leave her breathing,” another grinned perversely at Abby and she whimpered. “Jus’ let me—”
“How can ye think about that NOW, Francis? We should just kill her, really! There’s too much that can go wrong without taking control now!”
“Joss might be right. If they show up with any sort of backup then we’d just be sitting here—with or without pants if Francis has his way. If the girl’s dead when they get here, then at least we’d have a chance to use their shock to get outta here!”
“Christ almighty, yer all givin’ me a headache! Joss, Kevin, ye two shut yer mouths; quit making so much of a fuss outta everything. Francis, provided ye can keep her quiet than I don’t give a rat’s pink arse what ye do! Jus’ take her to the back an’ be quick. George, zip yer lips an’ go keep an eye out in the meantime, aye?”
The commands motivated a flurry of activity, and Abby frowned, feeling even more dread as the short, fatter of the males—Francis, she realized—stepped towards her. Shooting her a grin made more of rot and tongue than teeth, he moved his sausage-like fingers to her binds and began to undo the rope ties on her wrists.
“Pretty thing,” he mumbled. “Would never get a chance with one like ye.”
“Please… doona do this,” she begged, hoping he would find some sort of twisted sympathy for her.
“He’ll only like it more if ye beg,” the other, their boss it seemed, shot a twisted smile at her.
No longer able to hold the bile back, she lurched forward and vomited on the ground. The boss and the others sneered at the sight while Francis loosed a demented chuckle at the show. Then, finally getting the binds undone, he re-tied her wrists and began to drag her outside the cabin through another door at the back. Abby whimpered and flailed, but found that the pace was unaffected no matter what she tried.
“Ye will like what I do to ye, I promise,” Francis’ short fingers began to pull off his shirt.
“YER A MONSTER” she cried. “A MONSTER!”
“A monster?” he chuckled. “Aye, Miss. We are the beasts of the village, after all!”
“Ye?” Abigail sneered, shaking her head. “Yer no beast!”
The man chuckled at that, each bout of laughter like the clap of thunder, and she realized that, unless she managed to call out for help soon, a horrible storm would befall her. Considering this, and remembering the last time she’d seen a storm approaching with no fear of its impact, she began to pray. Then, with an image of Broden’s strong form filling her mind as she clenched her eyes shut and sucked in a breath of air, she prepared to issue her first (and likely only) cry for help.
* * *
Like the first time he’d encountered Abby, Broden’s body was in a full sprint before he’d even fully realized he was hearing her cries. There was more to the sound now, though; something more desperate and fearful than even the threat of a deadly plummet from a cliff. Unsure of what that something could be and certain he didn’t want it to befall her, Broden pushed himself harder than he’d ever pushed himself before. Shuddering, his body lurched forward, and, fighting to remain on his feet through a flash of pain that exploded through him, howled out in agony.
The woods went silent at the call.
Despite it all, he pushed onward. He couldn’t let Abby suffer anymore.
He HAD to save her!
Punish.
Suffer.
Transform!
The words filled his head in a daze and another wave of pain wracked him, this time throwing him off his feet and sending him barreling across the forest floor. Broken bones and cramped muscles cycled and flared, but somehow he managed to get his legs under him; managed to throw himself back upright and continue his hellish sprint towards Abby. The darkness around him receded and became bright as day, and parts of him that he’d never known existed flared to alertness. The forest became a blur as his legs pumped faster than ever before beneath him. He roared again, this time out of the sheer liberation of it all. His kilt bit into his waist as his body swelled. His palms ached as the soft pads of fingers became the unforgiving talons of something else. His entire body came alive with new vigor and purpose.
And, just like that, Broden was WHOLE!
And Abby was there to witness his arrival.
“Wh-what the hel—”
It was almost too easy for Broden as he jumped the man who’d been standing over Abby—his Abby—and the irritation at the weak prey prompted a scornful growl from his chest as he pinned the round, slow thing to the ground and worked to tear its throat out with his jaws. The thrill of the kill was fleeting, outweighed by the sheer lack of effort it required.
That was fine with Broden, however, because there were four more of the insidious creatures inside the cabin—all of their stinks permeating the air and perverting the perfect flower of Abby—and he had every intention of seeing them to the same fate as the thing still twitching beneath him.
* * *
Broden had beaten the storm…
Again.
Francis was in pieces before he’d ever had a moment to appreciate the beauty of the creature that had emerged to save her. He’d barely even had a moment to cry out beforehand, but he had cried out. The sound of the other men trying to make sense of what they were hearing was a distant concern of Abigail’s as she appreciated Broden—because there was no doubt in her mind that it was Broden; she could feel it—in this new form.
“Now there’s a beast,” she marveled at the perfect, almost bear-like creature that stood before him. He still seemed skinny and lighter in color, but the overall effect was undeniable. There was a gentle savagery there that was undeniably Broden.
Her Broden.
Her highlander!
He regarded her for a moment, whimpering and beginning to reach out towards her with his mighty claws before catching sight of them and withdrawing, seeming to notice his new form for the first time, himself. Considering this a moment, he glanced back up at her, his eyes studying her for any sign of rejection just as they had before over his scars.
“I only have eyes for ye,” she whispered to him.
This was all Broden needed to hear to return his focus to the contents of the cabin: the men—the so-called beasts—who’d taken her and threatened her life.
They never stood a chance against the real thing.
* * *
“Broden…?” Abby’s voice came out in soft whisper.
The large creature melted away into the large male she recognized and loved. A wide smile spread across her face as she moved on shaky knees and fell against him, his arms already wrapped around her waist as he held her close. She leaned her face against his warm—even warmer than usual, she realized—chest and held onto him tightly.
“I thought…” she whimpered. “I was so afraid.”
“Shh… doona worry now,” he whispered, running his hands through her hair. “Everything’s alright now.”
“Ye… ye’re so beautiful, Broden. All of ye! I knew… I just knew. Even when we’d first met, I knew there was something different about ye; something beastly,” she grinned, “Something that kept luring me back.”
Broden blushed at that and raised an eyebrow. “Then yer no’ going to run from me now that ye know the truth?”
Abby scoffed and shook her head, burrowing herself deeper into her highlander’s body. “Run? From ye? Now that I’ve finally got a beast-highlander of my very own? Never!” She giggled and glanced up at him, “Though it would be nice if ye could explain… well, all of this.”
“Aye,” Broden nodded, helping her up. “An’ I will, but no’ before I get ye home. Yer parents are worried, an’ I have some business to finish with them. An’ then I’ve got some things to talk about with my own father.”