Spirit: Stallion Book Novels & Stories

Zormel POV I had to swallow the bile that threatened to make me upchuck my meager rations. The silence that finally fell over the cabin was a blessing, but the stench of their rutting still clung to the air, a cloying, musky perfume of satisfaction that made my stomach churn. Somehow, her heat had ended, and he *still* had the strength to fuck her. The Prince. Always so insatiable. So arrogant.

The corner of his lips titled up slightly and he bowed, taking his leave. “Olarya?” Stella raised an eyebrow at me, her lips parting. “That's such a beautiful name.” “A beautiful name for a beautiful mare.” The stable had a slightly damp smell as we walked in. I moved ahead of Stella, horses lining the stalls on either side of us, till we reached almost one twice my height. Its shiny dark body made it all the more magnificent. Olarya recognized me immediately, neighing and rearing onto her hind legs to lift her fore limbs.

Even Aldric laughed. The conversation continued after that easily. More relaxed. Questions became stories. Stories became memories. And before long, Selene found herself learning things she strongly suspected Orion had never intended to share. "He once attempted to tame a stallion." Orion immediately pointed at Aldric. "No." "Oh yes." Selene straightened. "What happened?" Aldric looked delighted. Theron looked interested. Which was somehow worse. "He was still a little boy." "I don't like where this is going." "He was absolutely convinced the stallion respected him." "It did not." "The stallion disagreed." Strongly. Selene covered her mouth. Sable lowered her book. Evangeline looked delighte

The Trial starts. First task’s supposed to be simple: A hunt, no shifting. Instinct, speed, discipline. But nothing about the air feels safe. The iron cage opens and something steps out—a stag, black as midnight, eyes like oil, antlers glowing with blue runes. Not natural. Not friendly. My wolf lunges up. Want. Take. Run. Rowan’s voice slices through the tension. “You’ll track and corner the spirit-stag. Alone. No shifting.” Gasps whip around me. Even Lydia stiffens. Spirit-prey is a team sport. Doing it solo? That’s either skill or savagery.

The stallion shifts slightly, then relaxes again. There’s something calming about that. “You look better,” Lily says. “I feel better.” It’s true. The noise in my head is quieter out here. For a few moments, I just stand there, letting myself focus on something simple. Something real. “What are you naming it?” Lily asks. I hadn’t thought about it properly before. I look at the stallion, at the way it holds itself, steady and sure, like it doesn’t need anything from anyone. “Mar,” I say.

She had taken him in payment for a debt owed by another Don to her and this was going to be the first time she rode him, it suited her sense of the irony to take him on after the meeting she had just faced down. The stallion was a stunning dark chestnut, and he stood more than sixteen hands, he had four white socks and a white star on his forehead, that was his name, Stella Bianca, [White Star], he pranced as the groom held his reins tossing his glorious long mane as he did so.

She swallowed and obediently rose to follow the handmaiden to the next stall. A smaller brownish horse pranced eagerly within. In his stall positioned across from the racehorse, he had a front-row seat to the sexual antics that had just occurred. His excitement at being next had his heart racing. He lashed his tail and trotted a quick loop around his stall, nervous energy building. Just shy of his full-grown years, "the colt", as everyone still called him, only sported a twelve-inch cock, already fully erect and dripping with trailing strands of shimmering fluid. Zia entered the stall with Etta, placing a calming hand on the stallion's neck, whispering to calm the beast. His ear flicked as t

He had a better idea. As soon as the stallion hit the ground, William did the craziest thing in his life. He grabbed a strand of blazing flame, and in one swift motion, he jumped onto the infernal stallion. Clutching the fiery mane, the young man clenched his knees on his black sides. His hands were burning, but William ignored the pain, intending to sit on the hellish stallion at any cost.

My mouth opened and I nearly shouted it in greeting. I peered up at him. “I missed ye, Tiny Thing.” “I’m not tiny.” “Ye are next to me.” “What’s it like to be a horse?” I queried. Unable to resist wondering it aloud. “Stallion.” He corrected proudly. Clearly there’s a distinct difference in his mind. I knew what that difference was but I was unwilling to consider it, just now. “Yes. Fine.” I relented. “A stallion.” “Well, there’s parts of me that dunnot even hafta change.” He nodded down his body toward his groin.

I was going to end it. The clearing was full of wolves and horses. The air smelled of excitement and the metallic tang of weapons. Kael was at the center of it all, sitting atop his massive black stallion, Storm. Storm was a beast of a horse, a legendary creature that Kael prized above everything else. He looked like a king, his eyes scanning the crowd with a restless energy. When I stepped into the light, the whispers died instantly. Seraphina was standing next to Kael’s horse, her hand on his thigh. When she saw me, her face went the color of curdled milk. She stared at me, her eyes darting to the green silk that should have been melting my skin.