Elodie,
I have meetings with the legal team regarding the 'incident' at dinner. Vance is a problem I need to solve.Drink the water. Take the pills.Your clothes for the day are in the box at the foot of the bed.Be ready by noon.We are going out.
- A.G.
P.S. If you try to shower away my scent, I will just have to reapply it later.
I shiver, reading the postscript. He is insane. I put the note down and look at the box at the foot of the bed. It is a large, black gift box tied with a silver ribbon. I crawl down the bed and open it.
Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is an outfit. It’s not a dress. It’s riding gear. Beige breeches. High black leather boots. A fitted white shirt. A black riding coat. And... a riding crop.
I pick up the crop. It is black leather, silver-tipped. I stare at it.We are going out.
I get out of bed, my legs wobbly. I walk to the mirror. I look different. The haunted look in my eyes is gone, replaced by something darker. Something harder. My lips are bee-stung swollen. The bruise on my neck is a violent purple. I touch it. I look like I survived a war.
I shower. I try to be quick. I use the soap, but I can still smell him on me. He is in my pores. I dress in the riding gear. It fits perfectly, of course. The boots make me feel taller, stronger. I braid my hair back.
At noon, the door opens. Alaric walks in. He is dressed to match me. Riding boots. Black breeches. A grey sweater. He looks calm. The rage from last night is gone, locked away behind the mask of the Doctor. But when he sees me, his eyes flare.
"Perfect," he says.
"Where are we going?" I ask, holding the riding crop nervously.
"To the stables," he says. "Horses are honest creatures, Elodie. They react to fear and dominance. I want to see how you handle a beast that weighs a thousand pounds."
He walks over to me. He takes the crop from my hand. He taps it gently against my chin, forcing me to look up. "After last night," he smirks, "I have high hopes."
"I've never ridden a horse," I admit.
"I know," Alaric says. "You've never done anything dangerous. That changes today."
He takes my hand—interlacing his fingers with mine. "Come. Let's go see what else we can break."
CHAPTER 10
THE BEAST BENEATH
POV: Elodie Fray
Location:The Stables of Hallowed Halls (Indoor Arena)
Track:Blood // Water– grandson (Slowed & Reverb)
Sensory:The pungent musk of damp hay and horse sweat, the rhythmic thud of hooves on packed dirt, the sting of cold air.
Mood:Primal Fear & Awakening Power.
The world outside the main house is a symphony of grey.
The rain has returned, a relentless, drizzling mist that clings to the skin and turns the manicured grounds of Hallowed Halls into a watercolour painting of gloom. The air is sharper here, away from the climate-controlled sterility of the Director’s suite. It smells of wet earth, pine needles, and the distinct, primal musk of large animals.
I walk beside Alaric, my boots sinking slightly into the gravel path. The riding crop he gave me feels heavy in my hand, an alien object that I don’t know how to use and don’t want to hold. Yet, I clutch it tightly. It is a weapon, however small, and in Alaric’s world, you do not discard weapons.
He walks with a long, predatory stride, his riding boots crunching rhythmically against the stone. He doesn't look at me, but I feel his awareness like a physical tether. He is checking my pace, my breathing, the way I hold my head.He is always calibrating.
We approach a massive stone building that looks more like a cathedral than a stable. The doors are twelve feet high, made of dark, iron-banded wood. Alaric slides one open with a groan of metal on metal.
"Inside," he commands.
