Horse Gods Mga Nobela at Kwento

I asked. " I am afraid I do not know. I know that you alone will recognize them when you see them in all of your lifetimes. They will have a red glow around them through your eyes. They will be blessed by the power of Ares, meaning strength, durability, and heightened senses. They are not pure enough to be blessed with Ichor blood, but they will be strong no the less. Fate has designed them to cross paths with you, just as your current mates have. Do not give in to temptation the four horsemen can possess. I fear what could happen if you should ever fall into their darkness", she said. A white light started to envelop her.

His self-possession had returned with the appearance of the mages. Reive turned to the monarch and answered, “Your majesty, this is a horse. I guarantee that you’ve never had such an animal. You don’t need to feed it. And it doesn’t need to have rest. You can ride it for days, and it won’t fall from exhaustion. Tiredness is unknown to it, as well as disease, hunger and death.” Gerhard shifted an amazed gaze to Scarlet Hoof and whispered, “Is that an undead horse?” “Exactly, your majesty,” the necromancer nodded. “And now, it’s yours.”

Vampiric horses? Holy crap.

Becca's POV I saw myself running. Running from Adams and his sick game. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest, my eyes wide and my legs moving as fast as they could. I heard, rather than saw, the arrow whiz past me and lodge in a tree bark. The woods was too big! I would never get to the road on time. "Seven!" he yelled. I had played hide and seek countless times and I knew it wasn't played this way. Somehow, Adams had twisted my favorite game into something deadly.

There was just one problem. They weren’t running away from the guards, but towards them. “Azrael!” I shouted in warning. He flashed me a cheeky grin, “Did you know Inferno horses are the strongest, fastest creatures in our realm?” “No—” The word morphed into a scream when the horses leaped, sending us sailing over the heads of the guards and the man with the whip. A laugh exploded from my chest, driven by sheer adrenaline, when we landed. The horses didn’t slow, weaving between carriages and jumping over vendor stalls. People dove out of the way, scrambling into alcoves and various shops.

She'd have to be careful. The roan gelding was a beautiful beast, with slender ankles and strong muscles that twitched beneath his skin. This wasn't the horse Godric rode the night before. That had been a black monolith against the waning moonlight, like a fierce charger from the Middle Ages. The gelding in front of her possessed the springing, playful steps of youth. It bent forward, stretched its back, tossed its head to and fro, as it might in the fields beneath the sun's warmth. Godric had fine taste in horseflesh, she could give him that.

It was his father. Speechless, Randey watched helplessly as the Goblins gained on the riders. He hadn’t realized the creatures had such inhuman speed. They were able to form a circle around the Grenyaar, who were forced to rein in their mounts. The well-trained war horses lashed out with their hooves as the Goblins closed in, injuring many and killing a few. The Knights swung their swords with deadly accuracy whenever Goblins drew close enough, but their numbers were too many. Even the Black Knights’ skills could not counter the sheer numbers as the Goblins climbed over their fallen comrades to reach the riders.

Ditto buddy! “What? You can fly over the river as a wolf?” I shot. “Almost, I am one of the fastest wolves in Astoria,” Kent said. Not bragging but just like it was a fact. “Why don’t you transform and I hop on your back? I can hold on pretty tight.” I suggested. Kent turned to me slowly. He looked beyond angry. “How dare you!” “What?” I asked, confused. “How dare you ask an Alpha to be your mule? I have never, will never, let anyone ride my back.” He explained further.

There, beyond the thicket, are the evil witches’ enchanted flying horses. They hover among the ancient pines, their wings folded close, their coats shimmering with an unearthly light. Each horse glows faintly—silver-blue, rose-gold, smoky gray, and deep obsidian—like pieces of the night sky given animal form. Their eyes gleam with magic, and my heart races with caution. These aren’t ordinary horses. They are creatures of darkness, bred and bound to witches. I expect them to be fierce and dangerous. I glance at Roxy. Her gaze is steady but curious. “Stay close,” I murmur.

I was terrified of riding, a phobia born from a fall I’d taken from horseback back on my parents’ farm. I was still debating within myself whether to tell Asher or not when he disappeared into the stable, reemerging with two majestic horses in tow. I stared at both animals with both curiosity and awe. They were an average of about seventeen hands tall. Before I could say anything, he introduced them as Zion and Sarah, his and Kiara’s horses. I watched, mouth agape, as Asher’s fingers gently traced Zion’s muzzle. He whispered soothing words to the creature, who responded with whinnies and huffs.