Bought By Their Alpha

by Bonnie Burrows

  Her da stood there, in front of the men of the clan, dwarfed by the vast army in before him. Mackenzie ached to run out and say goodbye, or to scream for her da to run. But fate would not be so kind to her. He was already walking out to meet Kirkpatrick. As big as she always imagined her da, he looked so small next to the man on the horse.

  He was a brute of a man, she could make him out clearly. He was young, not much older than Cesan, how had he formed such an army at his age? He had long black hair, and a scruffy black beard. He carried a soldier's sword and a full sized shield. His horse even had barding!

  Mackenzie was in awe of the opponent her father faced; his men were all wearing the same clothes, the same armor, they carried the same weapons. The only thing that differentiated them was their woad. Mackenzie’s own people, thinking this was a council and not a war, wore no woad.

  As she imagined her father did, Mackenzie realized this was no council, but a show of force meant to force him to capitulate to whatever demands the man had. She wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but it was heated. Her da turned in disgust and stomped back to the men. All of them looked nervous as Brian walked out to meet her da, flanked by two strong boys, one of them Cesan.

  Wishing she could be closer, Mackenzie made her way down the berm as silently as possible. There was simply nowhere for her to go where she could get within earshot. She turned to sit down and wait, she would have to wait now because if she tried to leave, anyone glancing in her direction would see her.

  She could hear the shouting, the arguing but she couldn’t make out any words.

  Was that Cesan’s voice?

  She was about to turn and climb back up the berm when she heard panting. Slowly, trying to be as still as a mouse at dawn, she turned to see the wolf. It was large and black and not fifty feet from her.

  Is that the same one from the other day?

  Its massive shoulder hunched as it padded silently toward her. She inched backwards into the berm trying to disappear. The wolf drew closer, its large yellows eyes narrow, its ears up and alert for danger. The massive lupine form padded silently, its rippling muscles making a mosaic under the skin.

  Mackenzie had nowhere to go. She could run, and the wolf would get her before she could take a few steps. She could scream and risk her fathers life but instead, she closed her eyes and prayed. For a moment, she thought the wolf was gone. When she opened her eyes, she found it was there, inches from her face, its long tongue licking its canines, a low guttural growl reverberated from its throat. She suppressed a scream, tears streamed down her face as the wolf taunted her, it seemed. It sniffed her hair, her bosom, her hands and legs.

  “Go away,” she whispered as loudly as she dared. If it were hungry, it would’ve attacked, it seemed to be...inspecting her.

  The wolf growled in response. She could hear shouting behind her and she longed to see what was going on. She made a move to turn and the wolf lunged forward, pinning her to the ground with its massive paws. Forgetting what it was, she struggled and kicked, the wolf sprang back then snapped its massive maw at her. It caught her hand and bit deep. Pain fired up her arm and Mackenzie let out a scream as blackness swallowed her vision.

  ***

  She was cold and wet when she awoke. She was still lying on the berm where she passed out. The sun dipped below the horizon and only the last red rays of daylight remained. Her skin was covered in sweat and her hand ached.

  Oh god, the wolf!

  The memory surfaced and she scrambled up the berm as if still trying to get away from the beast. She looked down at her hand, the wound she could so clearly see in her mind was gone.

  Had I imagined it? I swear it was real-oh gods, the time!

  The sun finished its eternal journey and was gone. Only the echo of its light remained, and Mackenzie was an hours’ run from home. Gone was the energy she had when following the clan out. Now she was cold, tired, alone and in the dark. She pushed the fear down that threatened to send her screaming hysterically and put one foot in front of the other. She focused on the ground in front of her, not the beat of her heart, or the fear in her spine. Her stomach growled and she wished she hadn’t skipped breakfast.

  As the moon rose in the sky, Mackenzie let out a sigh of relief – she was home. The dun’s walls still stood. The fires in the village proper burned, there was no screaming or wailing, soldiers of Clan Tiegan weren't slaughtering her people, all was as it should be.

  Too tired to crawl through the hole to get back in the dun, Mackenzie opted for the main gate. The guards there were used to her coming in at all hours, though they rarely saw her leave. This time was different, the two men stood their slumped on their spears. They gave her a dreadful look as she passed, not even saying ‘hi’ as they usually did.

  Something’s wrong.

  The courtyard had the massive black horse in it; a small boy was feeding and brushing it.

  Okay, so Da made peace, and he’s here for dinner, stranger things have happened, like being bitten by a wolf and not having a mark to show for it.

  Her hand itched and she was rubbing it, not paying attention as she walked aimlessly to her room.

  “There you are, you worthless thing, your da’s been worried sick about you.”

  “What?” Mackenzie replied to Gwen’s verbal assault.

  “Come, come with me dear, you look awful let's get you cleaned up.” Mackenzie was too out of it to comprehend Gwen’s sudden warmth, as if the stress of the day and the weirdness was too much for her mind to handle. She just let the girl guide her to the bath. She noticed dimly that Gwen was dressed in a blue dress with a corset and a very revealing top, which was unlike anyone in the dun.

  The hot bath water woke her from her stupor somewhat. The two maids attending her scrubbed her skin and face, one grabbed her hand to clean it and Mackenzie jerked it back. In her mind it was hurt, she could still feel the wolf sinking its teeth into her. The maids passed quizzical looks between them but carried on as normal. Before long, Mackenzie was clean, her hair brushed and braided, a light green skirt, a black corset, and white top were laid out for her.

  Normally she wore vests, not corsets, and Gwen knew this. She looked around for something else to change into but there was none. Not wishing to offend her da, or their guest, she stifled a groan and put on the corset. The maids returned to help her. The back was tightened and her breasts stuck out further than usual.

  “Really, what's the point of this?” Mackenzie said to the maid.

  “Hush lass, you can displease the lady all you like, but if we do, it’s our hide. So do us a favor and go along with her wishes tonight?”

  Mackenzie loved her staff, so she acquiesced. Even when Gwen came in with a glass jar and splashed rose oil on her neck, she just set her jaw and let it happen. She glanced down at her hand while her braid was finished. It was whole, no bleeding or marks, just her hand.

  I had just run a long way, and the sun was hot… perhaps I fell asleep and dreamt it.

  The fear, her memory of it, was as real as the pain had been. It made her heart jump and her skin break out in goosebumps.

  “Dear me, you don’t have to be so nervous, Mackenzie,” Gwen said as she led her down to the dining hall. “After all, the hard part is done, tomorrow you’ll be married, and you didn’t even have to spread your legs!”

  Mackenzie was still examining her hand when her mind registered what Gwen said. Before she could respond, she was in the hall with her father and his guests.

  “Mackenzie,” her da said. She could see the pain in his eyes, and weariness about him that she had never seen before. “This is Chief Kirkpatrick of Clan Tiegan and your future husband, greet the man, lass.”

  The shock of the day was almost too much for her. The corset made it hard to breath, Gwen’s gloating face next to her father’s made her angry; and this man, the one who hurt her father's pride, leered at her like she was a leg of mutton.

  “Do your duty, lass, as we all
must,” her da whispered.

  “Yes, ‘lass’ do your duty,” Kirkpatrick said with a wolfish grin. “The rumors didn’t lie Dugal. She’s as beautiful as a cold winter's day. And I see a spirit in her I shall enjoy breaking. A woman should know her place, don’t you agree?”

  Mackenzie couldn’t believe her ears, there was no way her da would put up with this, even Gwen seemed a little taken aback. Mackenzie knew her place as a woman lacked certain advantages that the boys had, respect chief among them, but all the men in her clan treated their women well, at least publicly. This was blatant and it wasn’t something she could stand.

  “I’ll show you spirit, you cockeyed sheepherder,” she shouted as she marched around the table with every intention of slapping him in the face. His laughter echoed in the hall, taking the wind out of her with each step until she stood in front of him, trembling with rage but without the will to strike him.

  “You’ve made a fair bargain, Dugal. This little firebrand, for your village; a fair bargain indeed.” He smiled down at her with a dark brow and a conviction that he had already won before she even knew there was a battle.

  “Please, m’lord Kirkpatrick, now that Mackenzie is here, let us eat,” her da said. Kirkpatrick nodded and sat down, his hand grabbing Mackenzie’s wrist with unbelievable strength, pulling her down to sit in the chair next to him. He used so much force that it bruised her wrist and left her rubbing it after they sat. She looked to her da, pleading in her eyes, and pain in her heart; his gaze was empty as he looked back. He was a man beaten.

  “It will get much worse than that little bruise, lass, if ye keep acting the way ye are. But do as you wish, one way or the other, doesn’t matter to me. You’re mine, get used to it now, for this is the last time I’ll speak to you civil,” Kirkpatrick whispered into her ear.

  The soup came but Mackenzie couldn’t eat. Her stomach was tied up in knots, and despite all the running she’d done that day, she couldn’t find her appetite.

  “When will the wedding be?” asked Gwen over the main course.

  “You let your women do the talking for ye, Dugal, or do you speak your own mind?”

  “Our ways are not your ways m’lord, our women speak their mind,” her da said.

  “Oh so do ours, they are free to ask us what we want, what we like, and how to please us. Beyond that, a woman's place is with child, or making supper.”

  She was still asleep, she had to be, that was the only explanation how her life could suddenly be so nightmarish.

  “To answer your question, Lady Weir, the handfasting will be on the morrow. Here, I suppose, at your caern. After that, we’ll travel to my city where we’ll be married on the new moon. Tradition demands thirty days for us to get to know each other, after all.”

  He said the last part with a long sweeping gaze at Mackenzie’s bosom and legs. The pain in her heart blossomed and tears welled in her eyes. She tried to keep them from rolling down her cheeks but she could not. She looked to her da for help, to protect her from being raped by this man who sat at his dinner table, and his return look told her that he was in as much pain as she, but could do nothing.

  He was going to raze the village. That’s what he leveraged Da with.

  “When can I come home again?” she asked, proud that she managed to keep her tears from showing in her voice.

  “Oh, you do have a civil tongue in your head after all. Well, I’m not a cruel man, you can see your da after you bear me my first boy. Then after each child, and of course, when we inherit the dun, you can live here if you wish.”

  Gwen coughed suddenly, her eyes narrowed and she looked just as helplessly to Dugal as Mackenzie had, for it was Kirkpatrick’s line that would inherit the dun, not her own.

  “Don’t worry Lady Weir, I’m sure we'll find ye a place here when the time comes, after all,” he said putting his arm around Mackenzie, his hand slipping under her arms to cup her left breast, “we wouldn’t want Mackenzie to be alone while I’m out building my empire.”

  Mackenzie shivered at his touch, her spine went rigid and she tried to stand, he squeezed her painfully, forcing her to sit. After what felt like an eternity, he let go.

  “I’m not feeling well, please excuse me, Da,” she said barely louder than a whisper. As she got to the door Kirkpatrick’s voice rang out, “If we’re not wed in the morn, lass, your village will be razed in the eve. Bear that in mind before you do anything foolish.”

  With her back to him she nodded, tears flooded down her face and she could barely see as she made her way to the parapet. She sobbed and wailed, falling to her knees and holding on to the stone as her body shuddered with sadness.

  Oh god, how I wish that wolf had killed me this day. Then I would be spared this.

  It was a selfish thought and she knew it. For if she were missing or dead, all her friends, her family, her da, would be dead, too. She’d seen the army he wielded with her own eyes and there was no defending against it.

  In the distance, she could hear a lone wolf howl in the highlands. Its sorrowful note echoed through the valley. The full moon shone brightly down on Mackenzie. Her tears spent at last, she stumbled to her feet and made her way to her room. She sluggishly went through the motions of getting ready for bed and used the dress and corset to stoke the fire, her last bit of rebellion.

  The small window in her room let a sliver of mithral moonlight in. Naked and alone she knelt in the moonbeams and prayed that she could save her village, and her da. “Gods, strike down this monster and save us from him, or take me, and save my da.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Her prayers were not answered. The morn came with the cocks call, like any other day. The sun shining through her small window proved to her that the gods didn’t heed the girl. Mackenzie didn’t leap out of bed, nor did she rush to stoke the fire. Instead, she lay there, for hours it seemed, stone faced and blank minded.

  “Mackenzie, you must be dressed for your ceremony, lass, your boy got ye a beautiful dress. Must be from Saxony, what a marvelous husband ye have landed girl, well done.” Gwen’s voice was overly cheery and it angered Mackenzie.

  “Do you hate me ma, is that it Gwen? How could you be happy about this?”

  “You are under the mistaken impression we can do anything about it Mackenzie, we can’t, we’re women, and we marry who we marry to carry on our lives. In yer case, you get to marry a king, and ye get to live in luxury, and yer people get to live. Ye can mope and cry all ye want, lass, but it will do you no good, so why? Put a smile on yer pretty face, go greet yer husband and make the most of it. He certainly can make your life awful, or ye can get it in yer head right now, that ye will make yer life good. Which is it going to be?”

  Gwen made a surprising amount of sense, and showed kindness that she never had before. Or perhaps she was just happy to have Mackenzie gone, even for a little while. She threw the covers up and immediately regretted sleeping without clothes on.

  “Are ye trying to catch your death girl?”

  Mackenzie ignored her as she slipped into her underthings. The gown she would dress in was red and black, the colors of Kirkpatrick’s clan, not her own green and blue. She found a ribbon her da had given her and tied her blond hair back with it. At least the ribbon was the right color. The gown fit, though Gwen had to take it in around the bust.

  “Never fear, lass, it will come in, and ye being so young and fresh, yer husband won't mind for now.”

  “Gwen,” Mackenzie said while the older woman helped her get dressed, “do ye think he’ll want to… uh, lay with me soon?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t tonight. Handfasting may be temporary, but the sooner yer with child, the sooner he’ll have his legacy secure and ye can be sure he’s thinking of making ye stay to protect the child, too. Here,” Gwen put a small bag in her hand, “take some of this before bed, it will… make it easier for ye, me ma gave it to me my wedding night.”

  “Thank ye, Gwen, it’s a kindness you’ve shown m
e today, thank ye.”

  Gwen didn’t respond, though Mackenzie wondered if those were tears in her eyes as they finished her dress. She inspected herself in the mirror; she looked as fresh as a daisy. Her blond hair was braided to curl around her head into tight knots, leaving her delicate neck visible. The dress revealed the tops of her bosom, and the way it pushed in on her and made it hard to breath, it made them look much bigger than they were.

  “Beautiful,” Gwen said.

  Her da was waiting for her in the courtyard, to walk her to the caern. He was dressed in his finest tartan, the one with the least amount of stains. Ten of his fine men stood as an honor guard of sorts.

  “Mackenzie, my dear, ye look beautiful. I’m sorry, if there were another way…” He choked on his own words, she could see the tears forming in his eyes.

  “We all have to do our duty, Da. I can do this, to save ye, and the clan, I can do this.”

  She wrapped her arms around him one last time, gave him a kiss on the cheek and steeled herself to not cry. She was walking toward slavery, she could think of it no other way but at least her clan would be free. The howl of the wolf in the distance was distracting and it seemed to be louder than normal.

  They walked hand in hand, a small reef of flowers crowned her head, another in her hands. As they left the gate, she spied Kirkpatrick and his men. They were rough looking, and they leered at her as openly as he had. She put her shoulders back, chin up and marched forward, determined to not let them scare her. She had to remember her da would be safe.

  ***

  The ceremony was over in a blink of an eye and before Mackenzie could even breath, she was on Kirkpatrick’s horse with him heading south at a canter.

  I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed on her gown. She turned her head as far as she could to look back. Between the gallop of the horse and her tears, she could barely see her home as it disappeared behind her. She clung to Kirkpatrick’s back, not from any affection, but from fear of falling off the horse. Few were owned this far north, and she had only ever seen one when a merchant passed through riding one.