Highland Heat

"Treble whisky, straight and no rocks. Thank you."

Taking the crystal tumbler of the golden elixir from the bartender, Hamish moved off to the side. Every year Alain came along to both give support for the Women's Defense Fund and to help keep him on an even keel. Apparently tonight their plan had backfired, because there was nothing cool or calm about how he was feeling. Running a finger along his collar, he took a sip and realized he was running hot, as if he had a temperature. Odd, he thought, he didn't think he was coming down with anything, nor did he normally feel this warm. Shaking his head cleared the muck away and he went back to thinking about family.

They settled him.

The more he thought about it, the more he believed Alain must've folded under the pressure and joined the family's quest to find him a woman, specifically a wife. There were few secrets within the Buchanan clan. Every one of them knew what type of monster he truly was and unfailingly kept his confidence. However, his cousin was the only person who knew the true extent of his more extreme needs. Alain knew and didn't judge his cousin's alternative sexual preferences which made the search for a companion a difficult undertaking, if not impossible.

Frustrated, Hamish took another drink of whisky and decided ten more minutes was all his hosts were getting from him tonight. It would have to be enough this year. He noticed a particularly determined social maven making her way toward him. Walking away from the wall, he started to circle the room. A moving target was harder to catch.

On an evening like this one, all sorts of things filled his mind, but tonight was different. Since he'd started getting ready to go out, there'd been something he didn't understand rapidly growing inside him. It wasn't a thing, but an intense need for some unknown and it left him feeling eager, agitated and uneasy. He needed to figure it out, and quickly, before things spiraled beyond his control.

Stalking the edges of the party was making it worse, and yet, now that he'd started delving in to what was bothering him, he couldn't find the will to stop. Having defined some of what he felt, it was time to figure out what was happening to cause this unease in him. With that thought, an image flashed into his mind and he immediately pushed it away because it didn't make sense. The problem was the same picture kept coming back until he truly looked at it and then put himself into it.

Not that it made much more sense, but as he turned it around in his mind, looking at from every different direction, it appeared as if he literally was chasing something. Just putting a name to what was going on inside him had his heart beating so fast, like he was running full speed. Except he wasn't, he was walking around a ballroom, dressed up in his formal kilt attire and feeling out of sorts.

Without thinking about what he was doing, his eyes raced around the room, assessing the women attending the function. He took note of this one and that, casting them aside with little thought. While he continued tracing his gaze over various women, there was a need growing inside him until he finally settled on what it was he was searching for. He needed to find a woman.

No, not just any woman, but his woman. His mate.