Shadows in the Mists

The first soldier dropped down upon her as his compatriots held her firmly, entering her exposed sex with a brutal thrust and snapping his hips hard and fast. Feeling the bile rise up in her throat, she almost wretched as she felt him spend his seed within her ravaged sheath. Before she could recover from the affront the next soldier took his place. His thick cock entering easier now that the path had been greased by the previous soldier.

She was held down and used by soldiers, some of them twice. Not all of the soldiers were content with her womanly charms and opted to bugger her instead. She could taste the blood in her mouth as man after man ravished her. Finally the last man thrust deeply into her ass to flood her bowels with his hated seed, when the officer called out to finish with her and let her swing. Mary’s lips moved in silent prayer for her immortal soul and the fact that this heinous torture would finally be at an end.

MacGregor’s eyes fluttered open when he smelled the odor of burning wood and felt heat on the side of his face. Focusing, he realized that the cottage had become an inferno. Rolling to the floor, his eyes flashed darkly as a deep growl rumbled through his chest and his bones and muscles began to pop and shift.

A soldier chased a terrified sheep around the corner of the burning cottage and was brought up short by the sight of a huge snarling beast.

Its bared fangs glistened in the firelight, its eyes glowed like embers of hell fire as it crouched in the shadow of the doorway.

The young soldier soiled himself in fright as he frantically tried to raise his weapon but the beast leapt at him with blinding speed. His breath torn from his throat as his chest was ripped open by the beast’s unnatural strength and razor sharp claws. His eyes glazed and were fixed in death before he hit the ground.

Across a small field at the edge of the forest the others were laughing and joking as they bound Mary’s hands behind her back and affixed a noose around her neck.

The officer leaned against a tree a few feet away his features painted with a look of bored indifference. Yawning, he held a scented handkerchief to his nose and watched as his troops hoisted the wildly struggling woman into the air. His eyes widened in shock, his hand fumbled to draw his saber as a huge beast resembling something that was part wolf and part man suddenly leapt upon the man holding the rope. The sickening pop of the spine echoed through the darkness and the rope slipped through nerveless fingers, dropping Mary to the ground gasping for breath.

The next few moments were a blur of chaos punctuated with the blood curdling screams of his men as the beast leapt from man to man with blinding speed and flashing talons tearing them to shreds. The officer screamed in terror, turned and fled into the forest.

Crashing and stumbling through the brush the young officer whimpered as branches tore at his uniform and lacerated his flesh. He burst forth into a small clearing, panting heavily. He whirled at the sound of a low feral growl directly behind him. Raising his pistol and saber with shaking hands he gasped in utter mind numbing fear for before him was a creature born of nightmares.

It stood slowly and rose up to its full height of what had to be a full eight feet if it was an inch. The creature was covered in thick dark fur. Its head, that of a monster wolf, the body similar to that of a man. Its long sinewy outstretched arms ended in long razor sharp talons that still dripped with the blood of his men. Its lips curled back into a snarl revealing huge gory fangs, its eyes flashed like the fires of hell.

The young officer took a staggering step back as the beast started forward with a slow measured step, its head low on its shoulders, its muscles and tendons shifted and rippled beneath taut drawn skin as if it were readying itself to pounce on him. The officer leveled his pistol as best he could with a shaking hand and fired.

He squeaked like a small animal caught in a trap, for when the smoke cleared the creature was still there apparently unharmed and to his horror it grinned malevolently at him. As if to say nothing on this earth was going to save him from those slavering jaws.

As the monster moved slowly, methodically toward him he swung his saber at its huge head. He felt a sharp tug and a sting. The frantic officer flexed his fingers on the grip of the saber readying for another strike, not realizing that the hand that held it now lay cooling in the heather. His eyes widened in shock as he stared dumbly at the blood gushing from the stump of his forearm.

Huge cruel hands slammed into the sides of his chest breaking ribs and slowly lifting the officer from the ground. Raising him till even with the creature’s massive grinning maw.

As the officer attempted in vain to draw a breath through shattered ribs he heard the deep barely articulate growl “Not...all...died…at... Culloden.”

The officer’s scream was cut short as the creature opened his jaws wide and snapped them shut on his neck. Fangs the size of daggers sliced through muscle and tissue to grind and powder the arrogant young officer’s spine. The beast shook its head once violently, cleanly separating the young officer’s head from his shoulders. The Deamhan Madadh-Alluidh dropped the body next to the staring head, turned and melted back into the forest.

Mary sat weeping next to the tree she was to be hung from, the torn bodies of the red coated soldiers all about her. She looked up to see MacGregor’s nude form covered in blood and dirt, emerge from the edge of the forest. Fear gripped her soul for she now knew that this was the Deamhan Madadh-Alluidh of legend.

His slate gray eyes belied a gentle concern as he kneeled beside her.

She hugged her knees to her chest and pressed herself back against the tree, her eyes wide with terror.

He spoke in a soft whispering tone “Weesht Lass, I will not harm ye. For ye see it is my duty to protect those of the MacGregor clan.” Reaching out to stroke her cheek with a gentle hand “I have always been there to avenge wrongs against my clansmen. Long ago, I was charged with the duty of protecting the clan. Though I am no’ a man as ye would know, I am no’ aine o’ the devil’s minions. I am something bred frae the stones and trees o’ these very highlands. A creature born from the breasts o’ those that have yearned for their freedom and the protection o’ loved aines frae those that would seek to destroy them merely because of their birth. These pleas were heard and I was sent in response. I would no’ nor could I ever harm ye Lass.” His eyes flashed with a hint of silver and winced slightly with a twinge of pain from his not fully healed wounds.

Mary looked from this man who was not a man to her cottage which was rapidly being consumed in the ravenous flames to her animals lying butchered about the ground to the twisted bodies of the soldiers and then back to the stranger. Her eyes welled with tears born of frustration and loss then with a nature and humor born to all those of the highlands “Well, now what am I to do? Could ye no’ have killed the lot of them before they burned me from house and home?”

He smiled easily and replied “Aye, I could have Lass, but I wanted to pick me moment, to accentuate the dramatic.”

Mary breathed a bit easier and as her fear rapidly melted away she looked him up and down “Well we cannae have ye running about dressed as the day ye were born and scaring the women folk and wee bairns, now can we? Let’s see if we can find ye some clothes.” As if this kind of thing occurred everyday, she stood brushed off her clothes and gave him a stern look “Well? Come on then ye great lump. I cannae stay here any longer, especially wi’ all these dead Redcoats laying aboot.”

Stripping the trousers off one of the dead soldiers and gathering weapons he said with a hint of sadness “I know o’ a wee cottage at the far end of Loch Katrine. It hasnae been lived in for years. It should make a suitable replacement for the aine ye’ve lost.”

Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked around at was once her home one last time then turned slowly and followed this otherworldly protector.

Days passed slowly as Mary settled into her new home and made the small cottage liveable. She finished sweeping the small interior of the cottage and looked over her handiwork with a critical eye. Its furnishings were sparse but everything was in its place and cleaned. It had been nigh on a month now since that terrible night in the glen. Though an occasional nightmare came in her sleep, she felt she was none the worse for the ordeal. Life in the highlands was not an easy thing, especially in these times. Nodding once in satisfaction she turned and stepped outside as she heard the approach of what sounded like cattle.

Stepping out into the morning sun she spied six of the shaggy long horned highland cows emerging over the small rise being driven by this man who had taken such great pains to see to her comfort. She smiled as she watched his lean form silhouetted against the morning sun. Now that she was aware of his lineage she noted that he did move with the surefooted grace of a predator.

Opening the gate to the newly built pen and she stood to the side as he drove the beasts through. She watched him as she closed the gate and realized that she did not know how old he truly was. He did not look old but then again he did not look young. His long shaggy hair was pulled back and tied off, and though dark and lustrous it did have a fair amount of gray shot through it. His face was lined and weathered from years of living outdoors in the elements making him look older. But his blue gray eyes constantly danced with the twinkle of youth. Mary smiled as she stepped up behind him “I dinnae suppose ye’ll be tellin me where these coo’s came frae wid Ye?” Seeing him wag his finger in an “ah…ah…ah” fashion she changed the subject. “Would you care for a nice cup of tea after your long journey, sire?” Laughing as she knew that this title irritated him immensely.

He turned and gave her a baleful look, but his eyes flashed with that now familiar twinkle. “Aye I would Lass. Why is it that it is not already in my hand?” Laughing heartily as he back peddled out of reach as she attempted to swat him with her apron chasing him back to the cottage, laughing like children all the way.

He sat in a chair next to the hearth lighting his pipe, leaning back and putting his feet up “Ah, but I do like this tobacco. It comes from the New World ye ken, quite nice.” His eyes flashed as puffed away on the pipe and watched her move about making the tea.

She turned and looked at him noticing that his gaze was much lower than her eyes and stated in a mock tone of admonishment “Aye m’Laird, but must ye foul the air with it?” Gathering up the cups of tea she approached him with an exaggerated sway of her hips. She set the cups on the small table and suddenly swung her leg over his lap and sat down slowly, lightly grinding her pelvis against his. She reached up and ran her fingers through the graying hair at his temples and looked into his eyes “Are you sure it’s a cup of tea you’re wanting, Sire?” Lowering her head she covered his mouth with hers, pressing her full red lips softly against his and kissed him passionately then whispered softly “I think it time I was thanking ye again fer saving my life.”

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tight to him as he returned her kiss with equal passion and heat. Pulling away, his eyes flashed with mischief “Hmmmm, I think I fancy the tea.”

She leaned back and gave him an insulted look, then smiled and undid the laces of her bodice. Slowly she exposed the soft round flesh of her breasts, her rosey hued points up thrust and straining with desire. “Are ye sure?” With that she started to re-lace her top “I can put these away if they dinnae please ye, sire.”

A soft growl rumbled through his chest as he grabbed her, pulling her to him and gently biting her rapidly hardening point with sharp teeth, sucking it hard. The tip of his tongue rasped against the tender flesh causing her to gasp in pleasure.

She ran her fingers through his thick hair and pulled him tightly to her breast as a soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Reaching back she deftly unlaced her girdle and undid her skirt while rocking against his pelvis.

He leaned her back as his teeth nipped at the soft skin of her breasts; kissing away the slight stings they produced and growled softly at the feel of her gently grinding against him. Reaching down, undoing his buckles and pulling his kilt aside he groaned deeply at the feel of her moist heat now pressed against his raging hardness.

Resting her hands on his shoulders she arose slightly and then settled back down, feeling the blunt head of his shaft split the delicate lips of her tender flower. She sank slowly feeling him deliciously fill and stretch her tightly clasping sheath. Her eyes were shut tight in wanton pleasure as his thickness filled her, his strong hands on her hips rocked her slowly against his pelvis, her soft butterfly wings stretched and strained tightly around him as she ground against the base of his shaft.

He lowered his head taking her breast into his mouth again nipping and sucking at the tender flesh and rose hued point. Growling softly as her hot velvet viselike grip enveloped him, her sweet nectar flowing freely, soaking him.

She raised and lowered herself slowly as though riding a horse at a slow walk, grinding each time she settled against his hips, shuddering as his hot breath bathed her breasts and his mouth moved back and forth biting and sucking at her nipples. The sensation of his shaft filling her and the sharpness of his teeth began to cause her breath to come in soft uneven gasps. Butterflies began to flutter through her, their wings beating faster and faster as the sweet caress of her orgasm began to build. Her moans came faster and faster as she started to lose herself in the moment, she did not notice his hands slipping up and behind her.

He lifted her easily, setting her down on the small oak table. Withdrawing his dripping shaft from her splayed flower and dropping to his knees, jaws opening wide as his head darted between her heated thighs and drove his tongue deeply into her, lapping at her sweet nectar, devouring the essence of her soul as it flowed into his straining jaws.

Her thighs tightened at the height of her orgasm then dropped limply to his shoulders, her fingers entangling in his thick hair, pulling him tightly against her softly grinding pelvis. She gasped and rolled her eyes in sheer pleasure as his teeth closed on the soft petals of her flower.

He bit down gently, sucking those delicate folds into his mouth, tugging at them and causing her hips to buck and grind wantonly.

Raising her hand to her mouth biting down on it to stifle off a scream of pleasure as his lips wrapped around the tiny nerve filled bud nestled beneath the gentle curve of her Venus mound. The tendons of her neck stood out in bas-relief as she strained to crawl away from his tantalizing lips and tongue.

His strong hands gripped her hips and held her in place as he sucked the tiny bud, flicking it with his tongue then flattening it against it and thrashed his head violently from side to side.

Her thighs tightened and her hands gripped his hair as she ground against him, another orgasm ripping through her panting body. Her breath slowly evened and the waves of bliss began to ebb as he raised his mouth from her flower, lips and cheeks glistening with her nectar.

He stood slowly, allowing her thighs to slip from his shoulders as he pulled her to the edge of the table. She looked up into his blue gray eyes and saw they were slightly unfocused, the pupils were that of a wolf. She realized that it must be strong emotion that caused the deamhan madah-alluidh to surface. Her back arched up off the table as she gasped in pleasure at the feel of his length entering and filling her. Wrapping her legs tightly about his waist she dug her heels into his flanks urging him deeper.

His hips snapped in deep long strokes causing her breasts to bounce at each jolting thrust, her gasps punctuating the action each time their pelvises slapped wetly. His breathing became deeper and his moaning became a feral growl as he thrust into her faster and faster.

Her breathing had almost stopped at the sheer pleasure of the sensations she was experiencing. Her mind reeled at the thought of this, blood-chilling beast of legend making love to her. Her vision began to swim and her grip of the here and now began to slip as she gave herself over to the sheer pleasure.

He growled deeply, withdrawing from her heated depths, grasped her hips tightly and turned her over on the table. She raised up on her toes and arched her back as she reached back in frustrated urgency to feel him within her again.

Grasping her hip with a large hand now tipped with talons and placed the other in the small of her back. He thrust his length deep within her in a single powerful motion. Thrusting fast and hard, his breath became a ragged pant as his pelvis slammed against her up thrust bottom as he leaned forward, sharp teeth grazing the nape of her neck.

She shivered at the feel of what she knew were large cruel fangs but continued to thrust back against him, wanting to feel him spend, to make him feel as he has made her feel.

His hand slipped underneath her body to cup the gentle curve of her mound, her hand covered his as he ground his palm roughly over her tiny bud. Her mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure as she felt his shaft swell and his essence flood her depths as though a dam containing molten lava had broken to release its contents within her wildly gyrating pelvis. Her vision blurred into unconsciousness as she felt the hot sting of his fangs sink into top of her creamy shoulder. Vaguely, as though from a great distance she heard the hollow pop like the sound of a needle being forced through heavy cloth as the tips penetrated her soft flesh.

Mary stretched languidly like that of a cat in the morning sun. Opening her eyes she found herself tucked neatly away in her bed. Looking around the room she saw him, fully dressed and buckling on his weapons. A look of fear and concern, darkened her features as he turned to her with a sad smile.

“Lass, I must be away.” “I am bound by an oath made long ago.” He said in a soft tone. “It is no longer safe, as I have seen that the army is making its way through this area.” he said in a choked whisper “I would not cause ye to be burnt from another home.” But dinnae fear, I will not allow ye to suffer any further at their hands.” Stepping across the room, he knelt beside her and stroked her cheek with a gentle hand. “I have left ye a gift, but ye must be careful with it else yer friends may fear ye more than yer enemies.”

Her eyes clouded with fear and tears began to well, “I dinnae know if I really want such a gift.”

Averting his eyes as a look of shame flushed his weathered cheeks, “I didnae think to ask ye. I am sorry, what is done cannae be undone.”

With that he started to rise and turn away but she caught his hand and whispered softly “I didnae want the English to come but they did. What’s done is done, I will learn to live with it but I dinnae want ye to leave.”

He looked down into her glistening eyes, “But I must lassie, there are those that will have need of me. I cannae forsake them.”

She reluctantly released his hand and with eyes brimming with tears, watched him slowly lift a small pack bundle onto his shoulder.

He stopped in the doorway, silhouetted by the late afternoon sun and whispered haltingly, “I dinnae know when I will be back, but I will see ye again. I would hope ye think fondly of me in the times to come and know that ye will never be far from my thoughts.” Then suddenly he was gone.