Scold Bridle Novels & Stories

Snow muffled the horses’ hooves, and the wind carried the scent of resin and something colder. Leander didn’t slow. A faint, satisfied smile played beneath his hood, a flick of the reins and a steady press forward into the gathering shadows of Bracerose. “Just a little detour,” he said with a lazy shrug, his emerald cloak catching the wind as he guided his horse deeper along the forest’s shadowed edge. His tone was too casual, too light, and Skye’s gut twisted with recognition. He already knew where this path ended, there was only one destination

The fir scent in the air grew stronger, accompanied by a heavy, dangerous presence. I felt a hot, cold gaze locked on me. Then, a cold, rough finger slowly traced my neck. The finger moved down my collarbone, a sign of deadly danger. I snapped my eyes open. In the moonlight, a handsome face was hovering above me. Caspian was wearing a half-open black shirt, the muscles of his chest faintly visible. He was looking down at me. "Ah—!" I gasped, instinctively trying to back away, but I was already at the edge of the bed.

Greyhound, similar to a lost its doll support, delicately disintegrated to the ground. "How?" Furious Scar was out of nowhere so near Brian, that the last option might feel the foul breath breathed out from his mouth, "I think you have pursued a choice, right, Skipper Brian?"

“You won’t need a saddle. Scarlet Hoof wouldn’t let you put one on anyway. But trust me – you’ll feel comfortable.” Reive held the girl, noting in surprise his fingers almost met around her waist – she was so slim. He easily lifted her up and seated her on its black back. Angelina threw her hands up, not knowing what to hold on to. There was no harness either. “Don’t be afraid,” Reive said. Then he added, turning to the horse, “Eiderte g’alde. Ren velde un gal’ibjer xenwer biolk, er daljer sairet.”

The second identifier—aside from his leather mask—was his prized horse. According to intel, the Scythian owned an Akhal-Teke, an ancient breed of horse known to thrive in desert environments. Sensitive, intelligent and a one-master horse. MIT2 devoted reconnaissance efforts to finding the stallion, and their hard work was paying off. According to Max, the horse was identified in a trailer near the Ethiopian border. Later, as the plane took off, Johnny glanced at his watch. Lizzy was already in the air. He smiled, thinking of their time together before switching into operator mode. It was time to work.

Aurelia asked, "and is there a way to trap one?" Mshindi revealed an ornate silver bridle, "I found this in the bakery hidden in a pot of flour. His journal doesn't mention it, but I'll assume he planned to capture the phantom horse and make it pay." Zinjo studied Aurelia's face, "What are you thinking about, dark princess?"

Riderless at first glance, until the firelight caught the limp figure slumped across its neck. The animal moved slowly, its steps uneven, hooves crunching softly over gravel and packed dirt. Foam lathered its flanks, streaked with grime and streaks of dried blood. The reins dangled loosely from its bridle, and its eyes were wide and glassy with exhaustion, as though it had been ridden hard—and alone—for miles. The scout urged his horse forward and dismounted quickly, rushing to intercept the staggering animal. The moment he reached the side of the beast, the light of his torch fell on the rider, and his breath caught in his throat.

Sarah is a small figure crouched low over the horse’s back, urging her mount to greater effort. I scrabble at the bolt of the gate, forgetting how fingers work and giving myself a splinter as I tug impatiently when the bolt sticks. I tumble through as Sarah flings herself off the horse before it has quite stopped. She’s ridden without a saddle, although she did at least put a bridle on. She almost falls as she lands, but catches herself, and sprints the last few feet towards me.