Page 60 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
Hunter’s eyes narrowed as he followed the subtle signs of passage through the dense forest. Snapped twigs lay scattered underfoot, a silent testament to the haste with which Emma’s abductors had moved. He paused to study the deep ruts, where a heavy carriage had cut through the soft earth, the mud from yesterday’s rainfall making the trail discernible.
But as the first rumble of thunder rolled ominously overhead, Hunter knew the impending storm threatened to erase all signs of Emma’s passage.
Unperturbed by the weather’s cruelty, he pulled his cloak tighter around him and pressed on, his resolve as unyielding as the fierce wind that was beginning to howl through the trees. He would find Emma, the storm be damned.
Hunter crested the jagged ridge, his eyes scanned the darkening horizon for the faintest glimmer of a campfire. In the distance, the storm brewed, an artless dance of light and shadow upon the land. Suddenly, a flash of lightning fractured the sky, its jagged illumination not only casting the landscape in a stark, temporary light but also taking Hunter back through time.
At that sharp, flickering moment, he was no longer on the ridge but back within the cold, unforgiving walls of a cell.
“Why?” he had demanded, his voice hoarse and laden with despair.
He had pulled at the bars with all his strength to no avail. But there was no remorse in the eyes that met his—only the stark indifference of his captors. With a grimace, they had shoved him away from the cell bars, the metallic clang echoing in his ears as they spat out, “Shut it.”
Hunter’s jaw clenched. He could still smell the putrid stench rising from the corners of stone walls. The memory lashed him as if it were a whip against his back.
In a flicker of light, Hunter’s memory shifted from the cells to Emma. Her white fingertips curling around the iron bars, her body trembling at the uncertainty of what was to come. Hunter couldn’t stand the thought of Emma having to face that same fate.
Shaking the memory from his mind as the echo of thunder chased the lightning, his resolve hardened. The flash had revealed no signs of the enemy’s camp, but he would not be deterred. Nightfall approached, and with it the cloak of darkness that he could use to his advantage.
“I will find ye,” Hunter swore as his eyes shifted to the heavens. “Nay matter how long it takes. Just hold on for me, Emma. I’ll be wit’ ye soon enough.”
Hunter tugged on the reins, urging his steed towards a narrow trail that zigzagged down the slope. His gaze was steely, fixed on the uneven path ahead. But the treacherous terrain betrayed them. A loose stone caused the horse to misstep, its hooves skidding on the edge of the precipice.
Hunter fought to regain control, his muscles tense as he strove to right the stumbling beast.
The struggle was futile. With a desperate lurch, the horse stumbled, and Hunter was thrown to the ground, its heavy frame crashing over him. Pain seared through the left side of his body.
Hunter gasped, trying to gulp down as much air as he could. Dazed and pinned beneath the horse, he could only watch as the spooked beast, in a panic-driven frenzy, scrambled to its feet and galloped away, his frantic whinnies fading into the encroaching night.
Now stranded at the base of the slope, Hunter lay still for a moment, the realization of his solitude sinking in. He pushed against the earth, hissing through clenched teeth as he assessed the damage to his aching body.
“Emma,” he gasped, the name a talisman against the surge of despair. “I’ve got to keep going—for her.”
With a grunt, Hunter forced himself up. His left arm screamed in protest, a stark reminder of the recent calamity. Yet, determination surged within him, stronger than any physical pain. The night was pitch-black, the dense heather surrounding him like a silent witness to his plight.
A miracle was what he needed now—a divine sign to guide his next steps. Yet, as the storm clouds bore down, heavy with rain, they obscured the stars and extinguished any hope of celestial navigation. The relentless downpour obliterated the scant trail Emma might have left behind, each drop erasing her tracks like a thief of hope.
Suddenly, a low grunt shattered the rhythm of the falling rain. It was close, unmistakably human. Hunter’s senses heightened. His pulse quickened as he slipped through the heather, the thicket embracing him like a cloak of shadow. Peering through the cover, he spotted a silhouette—a lone man whose gait was familiar.
Realization dawned. This was no stranger but an accomplice of Geoffrey sighted at the wedding and a tangible thread in the tapestry of uncertainty that now unraveled before him.
A surge of exhilaration rose up within Hunter. He had gleaned a vital lead. He crafted his strategy swiftly. It was a simple plan. Follow the stranger to the camp, dispose of him, steal Emma away, and keep the vow he had made to her.
“Take yer time,” Hunter whispered so low that he doubted even the gnats on the heather heard him. “I’m in nay rush. For the longer ye dawdle out here, wee bit of time I’ll give ye to breathe.”
As the relentless rain beat down on the canvas above, Geoffrey’s mocking laughter filled the tent. Emma’s gaze remained defiant despite her hands being bound.
There was no doubt in Emma’s mind that Geoffrey had no intentions of giving her up again. No amount of pleas would get him to release her, yet she glared at him defiantly.
“Ye should get somethin’ to eat,” Geoffrey said, flaunting the roasted elk meat and baked bread. “I doubt Laird MacBeastly offered ye anythin’ as fine as this.”
“No,” she declared firmly, “I do not dine with men like ye. And ye dinnae ken the first thing about Laird MacRoss.”
“Oh, I ken a beast when I see one,” Geoffrey said, a glimmer of pride flashing in his eyes. “And ye should be grateful I plucked ye out of there when I did.”
“Ye did me nay favors,” Emma stated, testing the ropes that kept her hands bound. “I was perfectly happy there. As are me sisters.”
“Aye, yer sisters.” Geoffrey sighed as he scratched his eyebrow with the tip of his blade. “They will miss ye. But from me experience, it’s best to leave family matters in the past.”
