Chapter 4
1183 Words
I met Liyah at the stables we once rode at together. “Thank you, Claire-bear. I can’t believe you are actually here.” Liyah launched herself on top of me, despite her knee brace. I thought I understood what I gave up to be with Liam, my mate, but I didn’t understand a fraction of it. This crazy woman, who used to be my world, wrapped around me. How did I let him separate us? “It’s me who should thank you, Lee-Lee. I’ve missed you. I’m sorry. No more boys between us, I promise.” I sobbed. Liyah looked up, and I saw the understanding in her eyes. We both wiped our faces and laughed at our equally blotchy faces. “Okay, later, we’ll discuss everything!” She looked at me with as much conviction as her tiny body could muster. I nodded and smiled. “But now, let me introduce you to Diva, my stallion. Just a warning, he lives up to the name periodically. I think it’s an adorable quirk for him and refuse to break it out of him. You’ll love him!” Liyah leads us to the stables, where we meet the horse. Liyah was right. We matched instantly. It isn’t easy for a shifter to bond with a stallion, but I never had those worries. I was always able to click with any animal, to the point where Liyah’s brother spent a year calling me freaking snow white! I hated it, but he wasn’t wrong. I galloped across the equestrian field at dawn, the stallion I rode was kicking up dew as it raced toward the rising sun. Then I saw them. Liam and Breanne shared a white mare, ambling toward my direction. Breanne was dressed in her pristine white riding jodhpurs with the matching show coat, leaned back against Liam’s chest. Liam’s attire was the stark contrast of black on black. I watched him bend his head low, whispering something in Breanne’s ear, causing a fit of giggles from her. I had waited for him to return all night. When I had reached out and called him to ask if he would be returning that night, I was told, by him, that since Breanna needed an emergency appendectomy, he would not leave her side until she recovered. That was when I cut up our photos, burning them to ashes. As I watch them now, a question came to my mind, causing my brow to arch. When did appendectomy patients start riding horses the next day? My grip tightened on the reins just as Breanne spotted me. “Oh! Liam, how spooky. Doesn’t that woman look just like Claire!”At her teasing words, I watched as Liam’s head snapped up. There, I sat astride my stallion, the tailored navy riding jacket accentuating my hourglass figure, my gaze glacial. I knew he felt it. Dismounting, Liam approached until he could only see the sharp angle of my jaw. “Sweetheart, since when do you ride? I thought you quit that. You should’ve told me you were coming.” The memory of his and Breanne’s intimate pose churned my stomach. I pressed a hand to my mouth to keep from being sick at the thought before answering flatly. “Would you have answered if I called?” This acidic tone only emerged when I was furious. Liam’s smile turned placating. “My fault—left my phone in the car. It turned out to be a false alarm about Breanne’s appendix. Since she’s competing in the International Equestrian Championships next month, I was only helping her practice.” Breanne urged her mare forward, pouting. “Liam, why must we explain everything to her? Come back, we have more important things to focus on. You haven’t finished teaching me.” “An International Championship contender needs amateur instruction? How curious. I wonder if anyone else here is getting that kind of coaching? But, Liam, if she requires coaching, I’ll do it.” As Liam turned, my voice froze him. Liam’s expression initially fell flat at my words, but he quickly brightened at my offer. “Exactly! Breanne, Claire won that championship years ago.” ‘How touching that he finally remembered I have value,’ I thought bitterly. Breanne bit her lip. “But—” After years together, I knew Breanne’s games. She wasn’t as nervous on a horse as she portrayed. It was all an act for Liam. “No buts.” I raised my riding crop. “Let’s ride.” The crop came down on Breanne’s mare, which bolted forward with a whinny as Breanne shrieked. Liam paled. “Claire! She wasn’t ready—” “Real trainers surprise their students.” My amber eyes glinted. “Your coddling would’ve kept her mediocre forever.” Dust sprayed Liam’s face as I galloped after Breanne, leaving him standing there, cheeks burning as if slapped. Good. This was just the beginning of my resistance. Breanne and I raced across the field. Though I was starting late, my black stallion, Diva, was not one to be outshone, and we soon overtook Breanne’s white mare. For three years, Breanne had only seen the docile, obedient Claire. This commanding version, I’m sure, was unnerving. I could hear her growling, which, to be honest, was only slowing her own horse down. Her mare would not be able to focus on a race, with its rider losing its hold over herself. It was bound to spook her mare soon, and if she weren’t careful, she would get bucked. But as the saying goes, not my circus, not my monkeys. Diva and I were focused on ourselves. I could sense Breanne’s determination to beat me. But, no matter how she pushed her champion mare, I remained ahead. As Diva and I passed her again, I caught a flash of movement from Breanne out of the corner of my eye. She pulled a hairpin out of her pocket and hurled it at Diva. That hairpin had been a gift from her friend at her birthday party, and she had been keeping it close to her chest just now. It was made of silver, and the sharp end drove hard into Diva’s rump. Diva was instantly startled. Despite my expert handling and calming charm, which I have often used in the past to soothe a panicked horse, Diva threw me. I felt the gnash from the rock sticking out from the ground, which I hit my head on. The impact sending black spots across my vision—and a cry in absolute agony. My abdominal area pinched and screamed with a sharp and sudden pain like nothing I have ever felt before. There was blood on my hand when I touched it. I needed to get up. I needed to get back and get medical help because I knew Breanne wasn’t going to get me any. As I tried to push myself up off the ground with one hand, while the other was wrapped tightly around my stomach, still crying in sheer pain, a polished boot came forcefully down, cracking the bones in my hand. “Ah—!” The pain forced a gasp through clenched teeth.
Lucia Morh
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.