Kinnahauk gazed down at the scrawny, half-drowned woman. This was the virgin mate promised him by the Great Spirit? Yet the firemark on her brow matched the one on his own gleaming chest. Bridget Abbott gazed fearfully at the magnificent half-naked savage standing before her. Clearly she was far from the colonies—and from the planter she'd promised to wed. Had she escaped being burned as a witch in England only to be eaten alive by this golden-eyed heathen?