This is an Alpha, no, a cowboy, who knows what he’s doing. He’s not just some amateur being thrown around by a horse. Bubbles isn’t in charge, Murphy is.
As the seconds tick, it’s like time slows down. I swear the cockatoos behind the arena freeze mid flight. I’m captivated by him. The muscles in his back and forearms are pulled taut against his button-down shirt with decorative tasseled trim.
Through it all is a deep, throbbing awareness.
I canfeelhim.
Despite the excitement of the crowd, the distance between us, and the dense set of conflicting auras, his uninhibited aura calls to me like none other. It’s fierce and impulsive. Pulsing across the arena like he’s projecting it just for me.
It seeps into my soul, wrapping around my aura and settling inside my heart. A rush of adrenaline floods my veins, and suddenly, riding this wild beast makes sense. His aura feels so free and wild, yet centred with a soul-consuming focus. All that exists is him and the beast between his thighs. I grasp hold of his pumping adrenaline tingling through the tentative link and let it fill me with a deep inhale of hot, dusty air.
The buzzer sounds, ripping me from my trancelike state. The roaring of the crowd comes back into focus like a freight train. He’s done it! He stayed on the back of the horse for the full eight seconds through skill and determination.
Yet, despite his victory, he hasn’t dismounted.
Ida stands abruptly, her wrinkled hands flying up to her mouth as she gasps. “He’s stuck!”
Murphy’s aura twists rapidly into gritted determination, and I feel it like a pinch in my gut. His hand is stuck in the rope tethering him to the horse.
As if sensing its rider is weak, Bubbles surges towards the grandstand and throws its body up against the metal barrier fence. The crowd gasps as a clang rings out loudly, but the grunt of pain from Murphy is deafening. It cuts through me like a blade. Bubbles bucks again before running along the fence, desperately trying to scrape Murphy off.
The acrid scent of copper stings my nose and I feel sick to my stomach. Bubbles isn’t going to stop until Murphy is scraped off or limp. My heart is in my throat and I can’t swallow.
When Bubbles loops around to rush at the fence again, I spot a flash of silver. With the speed only an Alpha can accomplish, Murphy cuts the binding rope with a small knife. He falls to the ground with a sickening thud.
Someone screams. It’s high pitched and desperate.
Bubbles’ hooves slam around his prone form. Another cowboy launches himself into the arena, waving fabric in his hands to distract the enraged horse.
Time is moving slowly again. This time, I’m watching it from behind a haze of adrenaline.
An unfamiliar impulsive, reckless energy flows through me, urging me forward and closer. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t consider the danger. I just see him.
“Matilda, no!” Ida bellows behind me, but I can’t focus on anything but the contorted body of Murphy laying in the dust.
My foot connects with the bottom railing of the fence, a resonant clang resounding as I climb up and over. I land on the other side, my white sneakers stirring up a cloud of dust, and sprint to the injured Alpha. My injured cowboy.
Red dust kicks up as I skid to a halt beside his prone form. He’s much bigger up close, all sinewy muscle and vibrating energy. I breathe deeply and my head swims with the heady mix of his musky sweat, the coppery tang of blood and his unique scent.
“Hey there, sweetheart.”
Two bright blue sparkling eyes pin me in place. There is a crinkle at the corner of them, permanent crows’ feet from smiling. Blonde hair sticks to the sweat on his forehead, curling endearingly around his ears. His features are classically Alpha, sharp and strong, but he’s also devastatingly handsome. He looks like a damn angel – well, if an angel was covered in blood, sweat, and dirt.
“I’m a nurse,” I blurt out, the adrenaline still pumping.
His eyes crinkle, and he drawls in a thick country accent. “Well, aren’t I a lucky cowboy? A sexy nurse comes to my rescue.”
My breath catches.
A loud bellow echoes behind me, shattering my trance. Steadily, the thud of hooves grows louder, shaking the earth. Bubbles is coming back to finish the job. Why would anyone name such a vengeful horse Bubbles?
I barely have time to brace for impact when I’m swiftly rolled. The unexpected movement has me caught off guard. A wave of giddiness washes over me as Murphy’s heavy form presses me into the warm dirt, his forearms wrapping around my head protectively. His face is centimetres away from mine, both of us lost in a moment of chaos. His scent is heavy, filling my senses with the powerful aroma of pure Alpha. The pounding of my heart thumps in my ears, matching the thundering of hooves.
I whimper as dirt sprays over us. Peeking out from behind Murphy’s protection, I see two mounted cowboys herd an enraged Bubbles back through the arena gate.
“I’ve got ya, Omega. I’ll keep you safe.”
His heat radiates through my clothes, warming my skin and causing a tingling sensation to start in my core and travel outward. It’s as if I am experiencing a long-forgotten memory of safety, security, and warmth. There is something primal about the sensation of his closeness that awakens the need to be protected by a powerful Alpha.
