Overlord Mare Romane & Geschichten

Alpha Earl stated firmly, hoping to dismiss the topic. “NO!” Alpha Eddie shouted, gripping Alpha Earl’s shoulders with surprising strength. His voice carried a weight that made the room fall silent. “I am certain this time, Earl! I may be old, but my eyes are still sharp. I saw her. Her eyes were a mix of blue and gold, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.” His tone shifted and turned eerily serious. The grip he had on Alpha Earl tightened. “I have no doubt that her wolf must be incredibly powerful. And on top of that, the Silvermare is a stunning lady… with long black hair.” He paused. “She reminds me of my wife.”

By now, Kimberly, Sheryl, and Ertan were already at the racetrack. Kimberly has put on the safety gear to ride the horse. She was pulling a big brown horse with black, bushy horsehair. The horse's name was Shetland, and it came from Arabia. Arabian horses are one of the oldest horse breeds. As the name implies, this horse comes from the Arabian Peninsula. Its height is 145–155 cm, with a weight of 360–450 kg. The color varies from black to white to brown to gray.

His occasional visits to the stables afforded him knowledge of the horses. While Omage's mount was ill-tempered and prone to offering a baptism of spittle, Takaris' was a dark brown, with a propensity for bullying smaller horses. Alsipin's was a dirty brown with splotches of white on its side, a black mane and a white line running down the middle of its head, from mane to snout.

That was when Tristan saw her for the first time. She was an old mare, short by nullyard standards. In her long, wavy mane of an amazing black-violet color, which descended in luxurious strands all the way to her feet, there were many gray strands hidden. The gray-blue eyes, like a foggy haze, looked displeased and suspicious, although there was still a certain amount of curiosity in them. The mare crossed his path, blocking the nervous young mothers, whose foals were getting in the way, not understanding why the atmosphere around had suddenly become so tense.

Something passed silently between the cousins, some communication she couldn’t interpret. “I’m glad you’re both safe,” the Prince said at last. Then his smile returned. “Come. The court is eager to meet you.” He turned slightly in his saddle and raised a hand. A groom immediately spurred forward, leading a horse that made Loren’s breath catch in her throat. The mare was the colour of cream, with a mane that flowed like silk in the wind. Her build was pure Windrider, bred for speed and endurance across the grasslands, her dark eyes intelligent and calm.

You have been weighed and found wanting. I eye the mare. I don't have a lot of experience with horses. Not that I dislike them, but up close, they're so bloody big, "Um... She won't take offence at this will she? Me manhandling you?" Charlotte tosses her head at the mare. Charlie tosses back and continues her munching. "Charlie's had foals of her own. A few of them. Oliver's one." Charlotte's eyes level with mine, mischief dancing behinds the wings. "She knows what it is to be covered by her stallion."

The vistas gorgeous. Dillon and Chase were also interested in the horses. "You see that pretty little chestnut mare in the corner?" Chase asked. Mitch and Dillon said yes. "She's Pretty Girl, Lauren's horse. Now, look at my horse, the stallion in the corner beside her. If Midnight could, he'd jump that fence, sniff around enough until he had her for himself. He doesn't want any other mare but her. He's our best stud, so we use him with other mares but not her. She doesn't have the bloodline requirements we need. Every day they are at that corner, talking back and forth, smelling each other's scent, rubbing their faces together."

The air shimmered with heat, and the familiar scent of brimstone mixed with hay filled my nostrils. "And this," I said with a flourish, "is where we keep the hell horses." Sebastian's jaw dropped as he took in the sight of the massive, obsidian-black steeds, their manes and tails flickering with ethereal flames. I approached one of my favorites, a mare named Ember, and stroked her flaming head. The fire licked at my skin, warm but not burning. "Holy shit," Sebastian breathed, his eyes wide with fascination. "They're... beautiful."

“We’re all here. And I left a smoldering Tyler in bed for this. So this better be good.” “Oh, it is,” Cheyenne said, grinning as she turned toward the edge of the tree line. “Ladies… meet our mystery mare.” From the shadows beyond the clearing, a soft breeze stirred the leaves—then a shimmer of golden movement appeared between the trees. Solana stepped into view, her coat a striking buckskin gold with black legs and a thick, silken black mane that rippled like ink in the sunlight. Her ears twitched as she trotted forward, every muscle in her sleek frame coiled with raw grace.