1
VICTORIA
Two months ago
Piercing golden eyes bore into me. A wolf. I had seen it and kept quiet because if I reacted in any way, the horse—already throwing fits and doing whatever the hell he wanted—would’ve felt the panic in the strain of my muscles. And he would’ve knocked me off my saddle instantly.
He was a young, untrained stallion, and I had no idea where he came from, or why my father even purchased him.
But, if I was being honest, a big part of me hoped it was his way of making up for our strained relationship. That he had finally chosen to extend his love to me.
I clung to that thought, a bit desperately maybe, because I wanted it to be true.
Owning a horse had been my dream for far too long. Besides, my twenty-second birthday was coming up, so perhaps he’d dumped him as my gift in the stables.
Sasha Kasparov, my instructor of many years, stood facing me, completely oblivious to the man watching our lesson. A man, yes, not anactualwolf—though he might as well have been one. His dark figure loomed over us like an evil spirit spawned by the forest surrounding my family’s villa.
The sight frightened me.
Dangerous men came to our house all the time. It was not unusual to see one now and then, no matter how much my parents tried to keep their blood business from my sister and me.
But this man… this cunningwolfpreying on us right now… he was different, though I couldn’t put my finger on what made him so. All I knew was that his stance—his energy—had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up and the breath in my lungs trembling on its way out into the crisp air.
And he was tall—tall enough that he was at eye level with the stallion—and built like a monolith of muscle and sheer precision. It was visible even through the texture of his long winter coat.
Hands inside the pockets, he watched me as the wind caressed the tresses of his short, dark hair, surrounding him with even more mystery.
What was he doing out here so early in the morning? Why wasn’t he in my father’s office, like the rest?
The stallion shifted beneath me, snorting softly, his black coat gleaming in the muted sunlight. Taking a long breath in, I tried to relax, to give him the impression I was calm.
“Sit up taller, Victoria. Shoulders back,” Sasha called from behind me, his sharp Russian accent slicing through the quiet.
I straightened up and relaxed my hands on the reins. “Come on, boy, let’s go.”
And I didn’t know why, but I suddenly felt the need to prove myself and show the stranger I was in control of my horse, even if I wasn’t.
I waited, albeit restlessly, giving the animal time to react to my command. But he didn’t budge.
Like a statue carved from arrogance, he stomped his hooves against the sand, snorting as if to mock me. It wasn’t the horse’s fault, that I knew. I simply hadn’t trained one before, even with all the knowledge I gathered over the years by leasing different breeds. It also didn’t help that I was impatient by nature.
I urged him again before the reins tightened in my grasp. The thought of being watched so closely and by someone so stoicmade my pulse quicken in a way it hadn’t in a long time. Or ever. I felt exposed, vulnerable under his gaze, wishing Sasha would tell him to go away.
Teeth clenched, I kept encouraging the horse, firmer this time. Only now he was peeling back his ears, a clear sign he wanted nothing to do with me.
Shit.
Sasha grumbled, probably sensing my frustration. “You know better than to–”
His phone rang, stealing his attention.
Lifting a finger in the air to tell me he’d be right back, he walked away. And it was right at that moment that a low, composed whistle made its way to me on the wind, loud enough for only me and the horse to hear it.
Consequently, and to my utter disbelief, the stallion started walking. Just not in the direction I was steering him. No. This horse had shut me off completely—me, a professional horse rider—and turned to walk toward thewolf, toward the stranger, instead. As if he knew him. Or as if the whistle had been commanding enough to deem him as his new master.
Familiar as my heartbeat, the rhythmic thud of hooves meeting the ground reached my ears as I swayed slowly from the movement.
The man exuded danger, and the horse was leading me straight to him.
