I have always known my purpose in life was to marry a powerful laird and bear his sons to cement alliances…I just expected him to be, you know, human.

But I forgot the old legends. The ones about the others who come a'raiding through the stone circles during a full moon. The ones about the beasts who steal maidens and make them do terrible things on their altars to the carnal gods.

The eve before my marriage, I am one of those stolen, and I know I should be terrified of this monster and what he's going to do to me…as a public spectacle. But is this not what I was born—and bred—to do?