"Anything?" he repeats, his voice dropping an octave.
"Anything."
"Fine." He holds out a hand, his fingers scarred and strong. "You’ve got a deal, little Gia. But don't cry when you’re picking hay out of your hair."
"I don't cry," I snap, shaking his hand. His skin is hot, the contact sending a jolt of electricity straight up my arm. "I win."
Ten minutes later, we’re at the edge of the east field.
I’m on a sturdy bay mare named Serafina. She’s sweet, and fast apparently, and doesn't look like she wants to murder me. Rafael is on Vindice. The two of them together look like a dark myth—two forces of nature held together by nothing but sheer will.
He’s discarded his jacket. His black shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, the fabric straining against his chest as he settles into the saddle. He looks... gods, he looks incredible. Like a dark knight from a story that doesn't have a happy ending.
"To the oak tree at the end of the ridge," Rafael says, pointing toward a massive silhouette about half a mile away. "First one to touch the trunk wins."
"Ready to lose?" I ask, tightening my grip on the reins.
"In your dreams, Gia."
He doesn't wait for a signal. He just whistles, and Vindice explodes forward like a shot from a gun.
"Hey! That’s cheating!" I yell, digging my heels into Serafina’s sides.
The mare leaps forward, and suddenly, the world is nothing but wind and the rhythmic thunder of hooves. The boredom of the morning is gone, replaced by a wild, jagged adrenaline. I lean low over Serafina’s neck, the wind whipping my hair across my face, stinging my eyes.
I feel alive. For the first time in years, I am moving faster than my own fears.
Rafael is ahead, a dark blur against the green of the field. He rides like he does everything else—with a terrifying, effortlesscontrol. He and the horse move as one, a singular engine of speed.
"Come on, Serafina! Go!"
We’re gaining. The bay mare has a heart of gold and legs like springs. We’re closing the gap. Ten feet. Five feet. I can see the muscles in Rafael’s back tensing under his shirt. I can see the way he grips the reins.
I pull alongside him.
He looks over at me, his hair blowing back, a genuine, predatory grin on his face. He looks younger. He looks... happy. It’s the most beautiful and terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.
"Not bad, Gia!" he shouts over the wind.
"Told you!"
We’re neck and neck. The oak tree is looming ahead, its branches like reaching fingers. My lungs are burning, my legs are aching, and I am laughing. I’m actually laughing.
But Rafael hasn't used his full power.
I see the moment he decides it’s over. He leans further forward, whispers something into Vindice’s ear, and the stallion finds agear I didn't know existed. They surge ahead in a final, brutal burst of speed.
Vindice hits the ridge first. Rafael reaches out, his hand slapping the bark of the oak tree a full three seconds before I pull up, gasping for air.
I slide off Serafina, my legs shaking so hard I almost collapse. I lean against the mare’s side, trying to catch my breath, my hair a bird’s nest, my silk trousers ruined with sweat and horsehair.
Rafael dismounts with a graceful jump. He isn't even winded. He walks over to me, leading Vindice, and he’s wearing an expression of such insufferable, smug satisfaction that I want to kick him.
"You lost," he says, his voice smooth.
"You cheated," I pant, wiping a smudge of dirt off my cheek. "You started early."
"A Caruso never lets an opportunity pass." He stops in front of me, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body. "A deal is a deal, Gia. One wish."
