Page 27 of Stormy Knight

He was done with the paperwork for now. The ranch needed him. The horses needed him. It was time to remind himself what it felt like to be in control, even if just for a little while.

15

An hour later, Reeves stood watching the stallion toss its head, its sleek black coat rippled with muscle. Its black mane hung past its barrel chest. Watching the stallion paw at the earth, Reeves knew this was what he needed. A challenge. The horse refused to comply to the man holding the lead rope… angry… no, not angry, rebellious and stubborn… like him.

The horse’s eyes, dark and defiant, met his with a knowing, as if it recognized an opponent worthy of a challenge. Reeves had always been drawn to creatures that resisted, that needed taming not just of body but of spirit.

He stepped forward, careful to keep his movements slow and deliberate, aware of how the horse’s eyes watched his every move, its ears flicked hearing the noise coming from outside of the ring. The man holding the lead rope was clearly struggling, trying to coax the horse into submission with strong tugs. But the stallion was too wild to be give up so easily.

This wasn’t a horse he could break with force, and he knew it. It wasn’t just about controlling it. It was about understanding it.

“Let go,” Reeves said from behind the wrangler, his voice commanding.

The man looked up, startled. “What?”

“I’ll take it from here,” Reeves said, stepping up and holding out his hand.

The man didn’t hesitate, exhausted from being beaten up by the animal. Reeves gripped the rope. He could feel the tension in the rope, he loved the idea of the horse being as stubborn as him. There was no fear in the horses’ eyes… only defiance. Reeves smiled. This wasn’t going to be easy, but nothing worth doing ever was.

“Easy,” he murmured to the stallion, his voice a firm whisper.

The stallion snorted, stamping its hooves, standing its ground, waiting like it was evaluating whether the new human might actually be different.

Reeves waited too, giving the animal time to decide. He knew the moment the horse decided he didn’t want any part of him. Its back foot moved back in a strong, firm stomp. Drawing a line in the dirt. Reeves wasn’t in a hurry. He had the patience for a fight, a fight that was as much about respect as it was about control.

He heard the distinct sound of steel striking against steel as the gate behind him was thrown shut as the other man left the arena.“It’s just you and me.”By the end of the day either he’d be stumbling out of the ring or he’d be on top proving the stubbornness in him ran deeper than the Rio Grande. It was him against the stallion, the battle of wills. And deep down he knew it was more than that. It was a test of himself.

The stallion snorted, pawing the dirt, its muscles tense. The air in the coral thickened, and for a moment, everything felt still. No breeze, no sound—just the man and the horse locked in an unspoken battle.

Reeves’ heart rate quickened, but not from fear. It was the rush of the challenge that made the blood pulse in his veins. This horse wasn’t just any beast—it was as untamed as he was,a creature that had known nothing but freedom and defiance, much like him.

Tightening his fingers around the lead rope, he gave it a slight tug, pulling the horse’s attention back to him. The stallion’s ears flicked forward, and those dark eyes locked in a fierce stare with him. Neither moved, but the challenge was there, in the way they each held their ground, waiting for the other one to make the first move.

Reeves took a step forward, carefully, his boots scraped against the dirt. He could feel the stallion’s resistance.It’s a battle of wills,he thought, swallowing his own rising tension.

Taking another step, the stallion’s nostrils flared as it shifted its weight slightly, preparing to bolt. The air hummed with energy. The ranch hands gathered at the fence talked amongst themselves. Made bets on which one would win. Reeves’s voice was steady, low, “You don’t scare me.”

The stallion’s head jerked up, eyes widening. It was a challenge, an invitation to a fight that neither of them would back out of. There was no room for fear here—not for the horse, and not for Reeves.

Another step. Brought him closer. The stallion’s muscles tensed, ready to spring. Reeves knew what was coming. He could feel it in the rope, in the way the stallion’s breath came faster, in the tension visible in the animal’s muscles.

Then, with a powerful grunt, the stallion lunged.

Reeves was ready. His feet planted solidly in the dirt, he pulled on the lead rope, using his weight to counter the horse’s force. The stallion reared, its hooves striking the air with a dangerous elegance, but Reeves held on. He gritted his teeth, feeling the rope dig into his palms. He didn’t flinch as the horse came down hard, its hooves pounding into the dry earth.

Meeting its force with his own, he twisted the rope, using his leverage to guide the horses’ movements, pulling it firmlytowards him. The stallion fought back, bucking and twisting, but Reeves stayed steady, matching every move with calm persistence. The fight fierce, and every muscle in Reeves’s body screamed in protest, but his focus never wavered.

“Come on, damn you,” he muttered through gritted teeth, not just to the horse, but to himself. “You think you can break me?” he shouted at the stallion.

With a final lunge, the stallion twisted its body, sending Reeves stumbling back a few steps. He felt the rope slip for a moment, but he regained his footing. The fight wasn’t over. Not yet.

The sun was low on the horizon, the day’s heat waning. The light was fading, and Reeves knew that by the time the shadows grew long, either he’d be bruised and broken, or he’d be sitting on top of the stallion, victorious.

And then the stallion made the next move.

The horse thrashed its head as it jumped and twisted trying to get free from the lead rope that tethered it to Reeves. Digging his boots into the ground the horse’s sheer strength kept him moving. Leaning back he counted on the rope to keep him upright as he continued hanging on, attempting to keep the stallion in his control. The horse, in a last-ditch effort to get free, lunged its body upwards as it wrenched its head to the side, yanking Reeves off his feet.

Reeves hit the dirt hard, his back slamming against the ground with a force that took the breath from his lungs. The lead rope was still tight in his hands, but now it felt like the stallion was a force of nature. He was momentarily stunned, gasping for air as the world spun around him. The horse reared again, thrashing its head, hooves striking the air.

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