Who is the Real Winner?

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All I wanted was peace. All I wanted was to be away to clear my mind.

Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes, it was.

Because, as I walked away from the crowd, I noticed riders getting ready for the races with their horses.

Lo and behold, Xavier Shaw was there, supporting a mouthwatering rider’s outfit, in his Pack colors. His pack’s Blood Crescent sigil was sewn on his shoulder pads and the front of the jacket, with the number 004 sewn on the back in a large black number.

I stopped in my tracks and almost stumbled at the sight.

He had not noticed me, I think.

He had a huge Black stallion by his side, whose saddle was getting checked by another professional.

Xavier’s hair was a mess, even before riding, giving him a bad-boy persona as he wore and tightened his gloves.

My dirty creative mind immediately drew a scene with him wearing those gloves for me and tightening something around my wrists instead of his.

I shook my head as he was about to turn and I turned my bac