Scold Bridle Novels & Stories

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."

The scent of smoke clung to the horizon before they saw the flames. Veyra gripped the reins tighter as her mare galloped alongside Jon's hulking black steed and Zarek's midnight-gray warhorse. The wind lashed through her braid, tangling it in wild strands around her face, but she didn't care. The village they rode toward—Thornveil—was a Moonfang border outpost, small and largely peaceful. Or it had been.

Houses were huge and elegant, as if the town's exclusivity really had a fair reason after all. Everything looked expensive and normal, except for the black flags with a shield and claw marks that were hanging on every post. I suddenly remembered last night. The scratch on my window, it was similar to what's I was seeing embroidered in the flags. "What's that?" I pointed at one. Uncle George threw me a side glance. "Wild Oaks symbol," he replied before he went back to his phone. I didn't ask anymore. When they took a turn on the last block, I realized we're heading up hill, towards the huge castle sitting on the highest part of the town. It looked century old but I still couldn't stop myself

"They were using the winter tithes to buy silver-gilding for their private chapels while your pups in the south were eating boiled bark to survive the freeze. If you have a complaint about that, you can take it up with the empty grain-stores." Bradley’s yellow eyes narrowed, shifting from Eryx to me. He looked at my simple leather shift, my bare arms, and the small, healing cut on my cheek. "And this is the girl," Bradley said, his voice dripping with a patronizing amusement that made my fingers tighten on Eryx’s knee. "The one who supposedly made the sacred peaks scream. She doesn't look like much, Eryx. She looks like she’d break if she had to haul a dry log across the yard."

I don’t want any of this. So why does my chest feel tight like I’m holding my breath? Adrian pulls the horse into a turn and rides closer, angling toward the stables. The black horse’s coat gleams like polished obsidian. The saddle tack is immaculate. Of course it is. Everything about Adrian looks like the capital forged him and then forgot to add softness. He slows near the stable yard, the horse’s hooves thudding softly on packed earth. The animal tosses its head once, impatient.

They didn't look like the broken, unshifting ghosts who had spent decades hauling logs in chains; their eyes held the bright, terrifying amber glare of a resurrected pack hungry for a reckoning. "Scouts ahead!" Kael bellowed from the roof of the secondary cargo platform, his gray-muzzled form leaning over the iron framework as he pointed a clawed finger toward the southern crest of the ridge. Through a sudden rip in the rolling mountain fog, a line of twenty imperial steam-cavalry appeared on the highway shoulder. Their mounts were not biological horses; they were low-slung, three-wheeled mechanical quadricycles armored in thick plates of polished brass. Small, sputtering steam-donkeys were

Then Scarlet spoke loudly, interrupting the judges just as they prepared to end the round. “Excuse me ... Blackwood Academy still has another bridge.” A hush fell. Judges turned. “You may present it.” "No! Don't!" Liora yelled but no one listened to her. Scarlet walked forward, Mira and Grey beside her. Their bridge stood firm ... balanced, shockingly stable, beautifully simple. The judges poured water. It held. They added rocks, it held. Finally, they placed the weight of a grown werewolf on it. It. Fucking. Held.

I scrunched up my nose and repeated the same thing- but the outcome is still the similar. "What am I even doing wrong?!" I groaned. "You're mindlessly throwing the kite, therefore it wouldn't really fly. You should it hold it on the bridle." I turned my attention to Garren who suddenly appeared beside me. "Let me teach you." Before I could even respond, he went behind me and held both of my hands that completely caught me off-guard. "These three strings are the bridle. You have to hold them up until it catches the wind." I can't utterly focus because I can literally feel his breath tickling my neck, to say nothing of that his body is pressed against my back and his arms are wrapped around me

Laziel Brahm “Two hours.” The guard confirmed firmly, and the muted creak of the gate as it whined open and the drawbridge fell across the cliff made the hairs on my arm stiffen. I drew the reins tight and my horse leaped into the air, shooting forward faster than I could catch my breath. “Easy, tiger,” I growled, brushing my fingers through its thick brown mane and dipping my head to wave off the cold bite of the wind that lashed at my face and ears almost brutally.

Does she not know that my scales stop any feeble attempt she makes to cause me harm? "Desist, you foolish woman," I blare into her head. She drops to her knees and I know it's because I did not temper my voice. She slams her blade against my neck. "Why won't you die?" she screams, her frustration clear. She's misbehaved quite enough and my patience is at an end. I point my large nose to the clouds. As we rise, she grips me tightly with her legs. I'm angry and impressed. My past brides have all worn saddles to ride me. And even with a saddle it can take years of training before they are comfortable. And then there are the ones who refuse entirely and I must carry in my claws. I fight rolling