Page 7 of Craved By a Highland Beast

What will I dae? I am trapped here with him!

They were in the middle of the sea, the two of them, the man he was torturing, and a small crew of men who would barely even look at her, let alone help her. But even if they wished to help her, what was there for them to do? There was nowhere to run. There was no chance of escape as long as they were on the boat.

Perhaps she could make a run for it, Bonnie thought, when they reached the port, though she doubted Laird MacGregor would give her the opportunity to get too far. He had made it clear that he was going to keep her by his side throughout the wedding and Bonnie couldn’t easily escape him and his ever-present gaze. The only reason why he had left her unmonitored now was because he knew there was nowhere for her to go.

Turning around to face the horizon, Bonnie stared at the gentle waves as thebirlinncut through them, the wind pushing it along towards Arran. The sky above was clear, but the chill seeped into her bones even with her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her lips tasted of brine, the sea suffusing everything that touched it with its essence.

She couldn’t claim to like the discomfort that came with travelling, though she did enjoy the view. With the blue sea glittering under the sunlight, the foam-tipped waves with their hypnotic movements, and the seemingly infinite blue that stretched from the sea to the sky, it was easy to forget where she was and with whom.

What are Lachlan an’ Finlay doin’? Did they stay behind or will they try tae look fer me in Arran?

Even with her two guards there, though, she didn’t know if it would be possible to escape Laird MacGregor. They were both supposed to attend the same wedding. There was only that much Bonnie could do when the two of them would be confined in the same castle, attending the same festivities and mingling with the same people.

At least Cathleen and Macauley would be there. With any luck, Bonnie could use them as a buffer between her and Laird MacGregor, so that she would neither have to deal with him nor offend him in front of the other guests. Maybe when Laird MacGregor saw them, he would be dissuaded from doing anything to hurt her.

Should I tell them what I saw?

Bonnie had to. It didn’t matter if the man was truly dangerous, as Laird MacGregor claimed. Someone had to know what the laird was doing and who better to inform about this than Cathleen and Macauley? They would know what to do if the situation got out of hand.

Slowly, she turned her back to the rail to rest against it, but the sudden presence of a figure in front of her startled her and tore a yelp out of her. Her hand instinctively flew to her bow and arrows, but there was hardly any space for her to draw either.

“I didnae mean tae scare ye,” said the man, raising his hands as if to show he meant no harm. Though Bonnie didn’t relax, she let her shoulders drop from her ears, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

She took a moment to observe him—tall and wide, with dark hair and a beard, much like Laird MacGregor. The similarities between them were startling, suggesting a close relation, but no matter how much Bonnie tried to remember if she had ever been taught the family tree of the MacGregor Clan, she couldn’t recall a single thing about them.

They seemed close in age; brothers, perhaps, Bonnie thought.

“Evan told me yer Bonnie MacLaren,” the man continued, and from the way he spoke about Laird MacGregor using his given name, Bonnie could only guess she had been correct in her assessment.

“Are ye here tae watch me?” Bonnie asked.

“Is there a reason fer me tae watch ye?” the man asked, gesturing around him as if to saylook where you are.“Nay, I’m here tae tell ye tae sit over there, where there is less wind.”

As he spoke, the man pointed at the small room. It was true that its walls would protect her from the wind, Bonnie thought, but she didn’t want to be anywhere near that place. Laird MacGregor had gone right back inside. Though she couldn’t hear anything from where she stood, she feared that if she got any closer, her ears would be assaulted by the man’s agonized screams.

“I’d rather stay here,” she said.

“I truly think it is best if ye dinnae,” the man insisted.

“I am afraid I dinnae care what ye think.”

The man’s eyes, green like the deepest forests of Bonnie’s home lands, narrowed in irritation, but Bonnie didn’t care. Laird MacGregor himself had said that he wouldn’t harm her and though she was still cautious, she was inclined to believe it. Whatgood would it do, hurting the firstborn of Clan MacLaren? Once word of it got out, he would have a war in his hands.

“Fine,” the man said as he turned around to leave. “If ye wish tae freeze tae death, then who am I tae stop ye?”

Bonnie didn’t grace that with an answer. She only stood there, as far away from the small room as she could, and ignored everyone just as they ignored her. She tried to weather the cold and the wind, the splash of chilled water on her face, but eventually, it proved too much. The only thing she could do, though, was to curl up by the rail, knees to her chest in an attempt to preserve as much body heat as she could.

By the time they made it to Arran, Bonnie could have sworn the blood had indeed frozen in her veins. Her body felt rigid, as though the chill had shaped her into a statue, and her movements were stiff, her limbs refusing to cooperate with her. One of the men from the crew—a man she hadn’t yet talked to—offered her his hand and Bonnie took it gratefully, pushing herself off the floor.

Before she could run, before she could even rub some life back into her hands, Laird MacGregor appeared by her side. His fingers curled around her arm, tightly enough to stop her from running away but not so much as to be obvious.

“Behave,” he muttered in her ear. “It will be easier if ye dae.”

Easier fer ye perhaps, Bonnie thought but she didn’t say it out loud.

Next to the laird stood the man who had spoken to her before. Seeing them so close to each other only reinforced her belief that they were brothers, as they were almost perfect copies of each other.

“Alaric, ye ken what tae dae,” Laird MacGregor said, and Bonnie looked at the two men for any sign that would betray what it was the man—Alaric, she now knew—had to do. Nodding grimly, Alaric patted the laird’s shoulder and then stepped off thebirlinnahead of him and Bonnie, disappearing into the crowd of the port.

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