“Let’s show them why they keep talking,” I whispered.
Lady blew out a long breath through her nostrils. For a moment, everything went still again.
I slid my boot into the stirrup and swung up like I’d been born in the saddle: no hesitation, no thinking, just muscle memory and fire. From up here, everything made sense again. Dirt, sweat, adrenaline, hay—it was home, sharp and clean in my lungs. My nerves finally shut up. It was just me and Lady. Always was.
She danced beneath me in the alley, muscles coiled tight, vibrating with thatlet me go, I’m ready to flyenergy. Her teeth clicked on the bit, ears flicking, whole body wound like a loaded spring waiting on that damn green light. Down here, the air was thick with it—competition, desperation, hope, all of it pressed close enough to taste.
But she was hotter than usual, too keyed up. I felt it in the jitter of her stride, in the twitch of the reins against my palms. My heart kicked faster, matching her rhythm, uneven and sharp. Sweat slicked my gloves. My mouth tasted like iron and dust.
This was the edge, right here. The moment where everything could go perfectly, or go straight to hell.
And I leaned right into it.
The alley was chaos, boots thudding on packed ground, announcer’s voice crackling overhead, a whistle somewhere close by. Horses snorted, pawed, sidestepped. I could hear the crowd beyond the panels, a low roar of conversation and excitement that surged with every rider who took off. The sound of it crawled under my skin. It was the pulse of competition, steady and relentless.
But I pushed all of it aside. The noise. The nerves. The whisper of Linc’s name still haunting the edges of my thoughts. I couldn’t afford distraction. Not here. Not now.
Lady shifted again, her front hoof stomping once in protest. I reached forward and patted her neck, feeling the slick warmth of sweat already darkening her coat. “Easy, girl. We’ve done this a hundred times. You know what to do.”
Her ear flicked back toward me, as if to say she knew better than I did.
The green light blinked.
We exploded forward.
The world narrowed to sound, speed, and instinct. Hooves hammered the dirt, each stride driving us faster into the open arena. The crowd’s noise became a blur, the announcer’s voice a distant echo swallowed by the rush of wind. My braid whipped across my back. Dirt flew up in sharp bursts, hitting my jeans and boots, sticking to the sweat on my neck.
Nothing existed outside the pattern: just me, Lady, and the clock.
We rounded the first barrel in perfect sync, her body leaning deep, my inside leg pressing firm, every ounce of control balanced between trust and gravity. The barrel tipped, wobbled, then righted itself. Clean.
I could feel her lungs expanding under me, the power in her stride building as we cut for the second. The air whipped past, the faint taste of it hot and dry against my tongue.
“C’mon, girl,” I whispered, leaning low over her neck. My voice vibrated through her mane. “You’ve got this.”
She responded with a surge that stole my breath. We tore around the second barrel so tight I brushed it with my boot. Clean again.
The crowd roared somewhere far away. The sound was nothing but thunder behind glass.
We had it. We had it.
Then something shifted.
One stride off. One heartbeat wrong.
Her hind hoof slipped in the churned-up dirt. The world tilted. My grip on the reins yanked hard and uselessly.
In a blink, everything inverted, the roof where the ground should be, the ground where the roof was.
The impact slammed through my shoulder and shot up my spine. Air rushed out of my lungs with a harsh, broken sound I couldn’t hold back. Pain exploded white and hot, spreading through my arm until my vision went fuzzy. The ground was cold and gritty under my cheek. The smell of dirt filled my nose, sharp and raw.
I rolled once, coughing and struggling to breathe, my arm screaming every time I moved. I could hear the crowd gasp in a collective breath, a hundred voices sucked in at once.
Lady’s hooves clattered nearby as she scrambled up, reins dragging. My heart lurched until I saw her standing, chest heaving, unhurt. The relief hit me hard enough to double the pain.
Before I could push myself up, a shadow dropped over me.
“Don’t move.”
