Spirited Horses In Storm #1 Novels & Stories

Emily So the rest of the week she has been busy with her new horse. She had ordered a saddle and everything she needed. Lo already had saddles there she could use for now, but she wanted a special one. She named her horse ‘Storm’ because of his beautiful coloring…..he reminded her of the clouds right before a blizzard. She couldn’t wait to show her kids and Andrew and take them on rides. All in all, she was happy.. content… and at peace. The people here were genuinely so kind and polite to her. Lo introduced her to everyone as his mate … which made tingles erupt on her body every time he said the word.

Calla put her foot on his head and roared loudly again. All the Riders looked at the head of their leader under her foot. A horrific look appeared on their faces. They all exchange looks then bowed their heads in front of Calla. Wind started blowing like a storm was about to come. With a strike of the lighting, all the Storm Riders disappeared.

A few seconds passed as everyone waited, and then the blue line began moving once more, trickling into a line, which at first was narrow, but later grew in width, covering a wide area of his chest, until it disappeared into the helm of his skirt. Storm's eyes glowed bright blue, as he began to speak once again, this time, in an eerie voice that everyone realized was not his. "To the wide blue ocean and into the belly of the beast, you all shall sorjourn. Trials you shall face, but love only shall conquer, and two hearts shall beat as one." As soon as he finished speaking, his knees gave way and he almost slumped, luckily, Keratin held him up in time before he could. The others trailed behind

He never once told them to stop until the last bucket was empty. He slowly walked over to her, bent down, and wiped her cheek with a silk handkerchief. But his words were sharp and cruel. "Sandra is awake. She doesn't blame you for cursing her and forgives you. She even said it wasn't really you who did it, but you were possessed." He paused. "I had my men prepare the salt water for you. It's supposed to ward off evil spirits, but it won't do anything unless you're soaked in it for 72 hours."

Dark and out of control when he needed restraint the most. Her innocence shook him, yet it drew him. She was his. Made for him. Exclusively for him. Only Storm could rid him of the darkness in his soul. She had the capacity. She could retrieve his soul from hell. Meanwhile, Storm stared at the bird, entranced. It was a little frightening to have the raptor so close to her. She wasn't altogether certain she was safe. Very carefully she took two steps backward, the sound of her heart loud in her ears. She didn't like animals ordinarily, but the bird was just too beautiful and big. It was an amazing bird, huge and very intimidating.

The compass didn't spin; it vibrated until the glass casing cracked. Ibrahim stopped his camel at the crest of a massive, white-sand dune, his eyes narrowed as he stared into the northern horizon. The sky wasn't turning the deep, bruised purple of a normal desert storm. It was turning a blinding, incandescent silver. "This is no wind," Ibrahim said, his hand tightening on the leather reins. "This is the Whip of the Sky. The air is full of angry spirits that have no tongues."

He was dressed as a fiery phoenix, his costume a dazzling array of orange and red feathers, with wings attached to his arms that shimmered and shined under the lights. Storm and Rain joined in, twirling me around in a dizzying circle of color and music. Storm was dressed as a majestic storm god, his costume a powerful combination of dark blues and grays, with lightning bolts embroidered on his hooded cloak and a crown of thunderbolts on his head. Rain, on the other hand, was dressed as a mysterious and elusive rain spirit, his costume a shimmering array of blues and greens, with water droplets embroidered on his sleeves and a crown of mist on his head.

he grumbled, hauling himself to his feet. "If you reject me without preparations, heck, if any of us reject each other without proper preparations then we are both fucked. We'll lose our minds literally." I snapped immediately. Storm scoffed, brushing dirt off his shirt like I hadn't just warned him about losing his damn mind. "I am already losing my mind, maybe that's better than whatever this shit is," he muttered. I took a step closer. "We aren't full adults yet, you wouldn't last two hours, Storm. You’d claw your own throat out before you even made it back to town."

No matter what it takes or whatever I have to do to achieve it, I’ll do my damnedest to put that smile on her face as many times as I can. She unbolted the door and led the horse out, patting his neck. “This is Storm. He’s my baby.” She glanced at me. “He was my sweet sixteenth present. Most people got a car. I got a horse, and worked for my Dad for a year to get my car.” “Isn’t a horse cheaper?” “It depends, but my boy is a thoroughbred and worth more than I could have earned in the year leading up to my birthday. Besides, a car is a car. Storm is one of my favorite guys.”

Ashton quickly collected the cards and reshuffled them before dealing them out. The five men played three hands. Cedric played carelessly at first, losing two hands early on. As the game progressed, port was consumed liberally by all except Al Zahrani, who did not wish to indulge. "I say, Al Zahrani, you wouldn't happen to have heard of a horse called Firestorm? I believe that's his English name," Cedric asked, his voice smooth and relaxed thanks to the port. Firestorm was a purebred Arabian stallion who was worth a fortune and rumored never to have left Arabia. Nor was the horse permitted to be bred with any foreign breed. No Englishman had been able to get his hands on any of his offspring