“Stones below, Monty.” Thorne’s voice is as deep as a growl. “If only murder weren’t illegal…”
“Then I daresay you’d have done me in years ago.” Monty chuckles. “Unfortunately for you, we are bonded by a love as deep as brotherhood. But if you’d like to take things further, I’ll award a kiss to the first person who reaches the southern meadow. That includes you, Thorny-boy.”
Angela clucks her tongue. “Well, it certainly doesn’t include me, brother. I’ve no need for a kiss from you. And I don’t race.”
“No oneis racing,” Thorne says, but at that very moment, Cosette snaps her reins, and her gelding takes off.
“A kiss for you would be another win,” Monty says to me, then he too races away.
I blink after them, torn between my need for another win and the rage that lingers in the wake of Monty’s irksome innuendo. Every inch the riders gain on me is another chance at a loss. As much as I want Monty’s lips nowhere near me, I need to earn another kiss. Another win.
Angela starts off at a trot, grumbling to herself about how a picnic would be much better than a race.
I’m about to follow and outpace her, but Thorne’s horse darts before mine, making Betty sidle away. He holds my gaze with a sharp warning. “Don’t you dare. Remember what I said.”
If he wanted me to forfeit this game, he shouldn’t have said that. My lips curl at one corner.
“Briony!”
The sound of my name shocks me, not just because it’s the rare use of my first name but because it bears a subtle crushing weight. A prickling of my skin. My hair stands on end.
Magic.
He’s about to use his power over me.
To command me.
I bare my teeth. “You can’t. We made a bargain.” And we both know what would happen if he were to break it. Excruciating pain. Maybe death.
He opens his mouth as if to do it anyway, then his expression turns slack, defeated. Edged with something like fear.
Maybe I should take that fear to heart, but I don’t.
Instead, I snap Betty’s reins. She takes off, and I urge her faster. Faster. We outpace Angela with ease and close in on Cosette. Despite her head start, she’s already fallen behind Monty. Soon Betty passes Cosette’s horse, then approaches Monty’s too. Stars above, she’s fast. My hat flies off my head, taking several hairpins with it too. Tendrils of loose hair whip into my eyes. Betty’s speed rumbles throughout my entire body, leaving my blood, my bones, and my heart thrumming in concert. I clench my thighs around the pommel of my sidesaddle, determined to appear as composed as possible as I outpace Monty. I catch the briefest flash of his wide smile, but I can’t pay him any more heed than that. Betty’s speed increases, and despite my tug on her reins, my attempts to get her to slow down now that we’ve bypassed Monty, she only goes faster. Faster.
She races down the next hill, jostling me so hard I can hardly see our surroundings. I lurch in my seat, careening off the side. The burning in my thighs increases tenfold as I struggle to stay in my saddle. Stars, if I fall off my horse at this speed…
The fear I glimpsed in Thorne’s eyes when I stubbornly took off now fills every inch of me. Shouts ring out behind me, but I can’t move. Can’t turn my head. I can do nothing but pour all my focus into remaining on Betty’s back, even as the sharp wind stings my eyes, drawing tears from them.
Betty veers off to the left. I may not be familiar with Thorne’s property, but I know we’re no longer following the path we took to reach our destination. She heads for a cluster of trees, the start of the dense woods that lie to one end of the estate. My heart leaps into my throat. If she enters the woods at this speed…
Deadly branches reach out at me from my imagination. Falling logs requiring reckless jumps. A tumble on the lawn could mean grave injury. A tumble in the woods—I can’t risk it. There are some wounds not even pureblood fae can recover from.
As we speed toward those trees, I consider the only recourse. Trembling, I shift in my saddle, preparing to force myself to fall. My skirt is designed to break away from the trousers beneath if it gets stuck while I dismount, but that doesn’t stop visions of being dragged to my death from flooding my mind.
With a deep breath, I loosen the grip of my thighs…
Lean to the side…
Betty chooses that moment to decide she no longer cares for me as a rider and bucks. I lurch from the saddle, certain my fall will be met not with the ground but with a kick of hooves—
Arms circle my waist, while something warm and leathery cradles me, pressing me tight against a firm body. My momentum doesn’t slow, however, and I tumble, turn, tumble, turn, until I finally roll to a stop.
My surroundings are dark as I remain encompassed by flesh and whatever has folded around me like a cocoon. The sharp rising and falling of the surface beneath me paired with the rapid rhythm that pounds in my ears tells me I’m against someone’s chest, my front flush with theirs. We stay like that for several moments, catching our breath. Then the leathery blanket shifts and slides out from behind me. Sunlight replaces the dark cocoon, and I blink into the sudden brightness. Lifting my head, I find Thorne beneath me, sweat coating his brow, his neck. His large membranous wings splay out on the grass on either side of him, while his horns curve from his head. His eyes are closed, lips parted to emit sharp breaths.
I try to slide off of him, but every attempt is infused with pain. His palm comes to my back, and his eyes fly open. Slowly, he raises us both up, keeping my back supported all the while until we’re both upright. My cheeks flush as I realize I’m straddling him. I scramble to shift my weight and find a seat in the grass beside him but only manage to get one leg from around him. The other remains sprawled over his hips as he closes the distance I created and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
I freeze, fully aware of how close we are. How my skirt has torn away exactly as designed, leaving my lower half in nothing but form-fitting trousers. How his palm remains splayed on my back, ensuring I can’t pull away from him.
