Wild Rider Novels & Stories

My lips parted. She nodded, “Hop on so we can start,” She tapped on Adela and they started moving. I turned to Alister and hopped on his back although I kind of struggled because he’s really tall and big. Once I sat on his back, Alister neighed and rushed forward. I held onto his neck and leaned forward to avoid falling. “Oh, look, you don’t even need riding lessons anymore! Alister has your back, Feyre. He’ll guide you,” Vienna chuckled, riding alongside me.

She didn’t know a lot about horses, she was a quick study though, and if it would make them happy for her to do this then she’d learn all she could, and she would live there for them. Hunter said “The ranch is called Wild Creek Ranch, until recently it has been used for horse breeding and racing. You can make it operational again, or you can leave it be. It is completely up to you.” Angel found herself nodding as she once again read over the material presented to her. She would do some research see what she could learn and decide.

But no. I didn’t want peace. I wanted war. The kind that tears through your chest and makes you feel something again. The kind that makes your name taste like smoke in their mouths. I didn’t just want Rafael to regret losing me, I wanted him to suffer for it. And if that made me toxic, if that made me reckless, then so be it. I’d been the good girl long enough. So I did something I never imagined I’d do. I set my sights on Ram Jordan.

“Damn, bro… bold. Let me guess, named after a certain someone who’s got you wrapped around her little finger?” “Watch it,” I warned lightly. Mikhail chuckled. “He’s not wrong.” I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the skyline, ignoring his teasing. Wildfire wasn’t just a name. It was her. Cyprian laughed louder, drawing me back to the call. “You see, Mikhail? The great Marion Whitfield, king of casinos, titan of real estate, conqueror of every deal in sight… and another woman strolls in and… poof!... he’s done for. Honestly, I respect it.”

***** Jeweled had smelt them even before he saw them. The two riders. One of them smelt fully human not just that he smelt of power and hunger. While the other one smelled different. Her scent caught him off guard, it was clear and bright beneath the cold foggyness of the morning. He walked closer to them in his wolf form, he was as silent as shadow, and his paws sinking into mud. From behind the trees, he saw them: Garrick Liason, the infamous hunter, and at his side the girl.

Iris moaned, her tits bouncing wildly as he pounded into her from behind. Cathy couldn’t help but stare. The fantasy she had played over and over in her mind for a long time was happening right in front of her, more vivid and visceral than any dream. She had wondered for months how to bridge the gap, how to make the first move in this strange, blended family dynamic. But today, the heat and the proximity had finally broken her resolve. She decided right then to go with the flow, she saw a dildo just close to where she stood she picked it up and decided to use it to please herself while convincing herself that he is her stepbrother which means joining in isn't allowed.

And I get to look like the ungrateful, dramatic girl too stubborn to accept help for her child. “He’s good,” I whispered. “He’s ruthless,” Alex corrected. “There’s a difference.” I opened social media again — I shouldn’t have — but curiosity was a drug. Top trend: #MayaCollins Second trend: #50MillionChoice Third: #IntegrityOrInsanity Then another: #RichardStoneSaint I wanted to scream. Instead, I stared at the tiny line of my mother’s heart rhythm on the monitor. Steady. Fragile. “He’s spinning a story,” Alex said, “and the world loves a martyr billionaire.”

In this form, I felt the power I'd been denying for five years, the supernatural strength and speed that made me more than human. I ran through the desert, letting the wind carry away the stress and fear and impossible choices that weighed on my human heart. Out here, under the moon, I wasn't Ghost the outlaw or Kiera the runaway Luna. I was just a wolf, wild and free and answerable to no one. When I finally stopped, panting and exhilarated, I found myself at the edge of the motorcycle graveyard. The rusted bikes looked different through wolf eyes… less like failures and more like monuments to the journeys that had brought their riders to this place.