I Know It Ain't The Stallion 소설 & 이야기

But right now, I’m doing unconventional things that seem to have me at peace. I wonder if this is what Sir Wicker meant by the conspiracy. I chuckle at this, realizing that I did not get the time to really look into it, so far. Instead, it's been one activity or the other. There's been a lot frankly. And I am barely catching on. I distract myself with the mane of the dark stallion, a powerful horse that shifts every now and then. Only standing in place by my gentle pats and occasional grips. Storm, the stallion, only understands strength.

The stables are the only place in this entire compound that doesn’t feel like a stage. They smell like honest work, hay, leather, sweat, manure, and the warm animal weight of bodies that don’t care who your parents are or whether a prince glanced in your direction. Horses don’t whisper. They don’t scheme. They don’t plant poison in your trunk and call it tradition. They just exist. And today, existing feels like a luxury. I report at the usual time with my sleeves rolled up and my hair braided back tight, because the last thing I need is to get kicked in the face by a horse while the dormitory girls invent a rumor about how I “fainted from royal pressure.”

Warm breath huffs against my neck as soon as I push the doors open, the horses shifting inside their stalls, some still half-asleep, some already impatient for attention. But Tornado—my Tornado—is wide awake. “Morning, boy,” I say, stepping toward his stall. He’s a big black stallion, strong, stubborn, and dramatic as hell. He nudges my shoulder as if reminding me I’m late, and I chuckle under my breath. “Yeah, yeah, calm down. I’m here.”

It obviously represents her personality. I walked over to the white horse, and just as I was about to mount it, Dianne spoke. “What are you doing?” She asked with furrowed brows. “Uh…getting on?” “That's not Storm. That's midnight.” Shit. Keira owned a black horse? Definitely not what I pictured for a calm and meek Luna. And their names? Who in the world names a white horse midnight?! That's something you'd give a black horse. Storm doesn't even sound like a good fit for a black horse, but it was better off compared to Midnight.

“But I don’t need another jockey. I need stock.” Her stomach flipped. “Stock.” “Ponies.” He said it flat, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Human ones. Trained right. Broken right. Displayed. Raced. Used. My stable wins because my ponies *want* the bit between their teeth. They leak for the whip. They cum when the crowd watches them crawl.” Mia’s breath caught. She’d seen the underground forums. The private races where girls in full tack got paraded, plugged, fucked, and bet on. She’d touched herself to it more than once, hating how wet it made her.

Tucking his tail, he stopped and turned in one quick motion. The glossy black coat lay over sculpted muscles. Long solid legs covered the ground in a fluid motion. The stallion tossed his head, sending his mane flying in the breeze. I was in love. " He's gorgeous." "They say he's from Brightly." I stumbled a little in shock. "Oh.. hi…I didn't know you were there."

I shout back. “Fallon, wait,” Stella hisses, trying to grab my arm, but I yank out of her grasp. I stomp up to the stall and eye the old crone and then her wares. “Do you know I am?” She bows deeply, red in the face from embarrassment, I hope, which confirms she does, in fact, know who I am.

"How is that the same? Kaia is my friend. But this Drake? He's not even from our pack! He knows you have a mate, yet he's still pursuing you. He just wants to get you into bed!" At those words, I raised my hand and slapped him. Hard.

​If my life were a movie, the main character would be a background extra. ​"Eloise, the high-protein horse mash goes in the north paddock bins, not the south. If Mr. Montgomery’s stallion gets colic because you can't read a label, it’s your paycheck."

“DAMN IT!” “Don’t you dare follow your father’s demands,” Shofia hissed. “I won’t let Michelle go back to prison! Find another way to get what’s yours—or take it all from Laura!”