Page 57 of Wolf's Prize

Her hands itched to take up the reins and to know once again the feel of being on a horse. The wind in her hair, the pounding of hooves beneath her and the exhilaration of galloping across fields. As a child, she had been obsessed with horses, brushing them and braiding their tails, spending as much time in the stables as she did in the forest. Half the time she had spent in the forest had been on horseback.

Becoming a werewolf had ended all that. Months after her attack, she had snuck out to the stables, eager to see the horses and to taste the freedom of a ride in the forest. She had barely set foot in the door when the horses started reacting—whinnying, snorting and stamping their hooves. With every step she had taken inside the building, the horses’ distress had escalated. The stable hands had gone from stall to stall trying to soothe the troubled animals, at a loss as to what stirred the mounts.

The head groom had warned her to stay out of the way. Standing near the hooks of hanging tack and saddles, her back to the stable door, she had not seen the approaching stable boy with the reins of a large bay stallion in his hand. The agitated horse had balked at entering the stable, fighting his handler’s grip. Kathryn had gone to help him. The horse had screamed, reared up and had struck the young man, knocking him to the ground, leaving him wounded and prone beneath trampling hooves.

The ruckus had brought villagers running, her father amongst them. Taking in the chaos, the agitated horses, the injured and bleeding boy on the ground, her father had scooped her up and had raced her from the building. That was the last time Kathryn had set foot in a stable. She had never ridden a horse again, and a much-loved part of her life had slipped away to a faded memory.

Aimon took the reins from Henri, placing his hand on her lower back, urging her forward. His comforting touch gave her the courage to step toward the mare. Other than worrying the bridle bit between her teeth, Josephine remained unmoved. Her hand shaking, Kathryn ran her fingers over the mare’s head, tracing the white blaze down her velvety nose. Josephine nickered and nuzzled at her hand.

Tears threatened to form, and Kathryn touched her forehead to Josephine’s, stroking her neck and breathed in her horsey smell. After all these years, she would ride again. She took the reins from Aimon’s outstretched hand and flicked them over Josephine’s head.

Aimon stepped in close to assist her to mount. He smiled down at her, touching her cheek with the back of his hand. “Today, you are one step closer to regaining your life.”

She tilted her head up and leaned in, her lips parting. Would he kiss her? In front of Henri?

His lips touched hers, light and brief, but Kathryn’s heart beat a triumphant rhythm.

“Shall we go?” he asked, moving to assist her to mount.

With his hands on her waist, Kathryn swung into the saddle and settled onto Josephine’s back with ease. She rubbed the mare’s neck. She had missed this. She had not forgotten how good it felt.

Aimon’s hand rested on her knee. Nor had she forgotten the feel of his hands on her. She placed her hand on top of his and squeezed. “Thank you, Aimon.”

“You are most welcome.”

He met her gaze and something different, something gentler, shone in his eyes. Not the heat that made her pulse race and her stomach flutter, but something softer that spoke of a deeper emotion. Was this the look her father had talked of?

Aimon mounted his stallion and turned its head toward the gate. Kathryn nudged Josephine into a trot, allowing Aimon the lead, and followed him out the gate and into the forest.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Henri had spoken true. Josephine was a gentle mare, with a responsive mouth and a smooth gait. With her modified dress flowing about her legs, Kathryn rode with all the freedom and abandon she had as a child. No more riding in a cart for her. She breathed in the air, gloried in the kiss of the sun on her face and relished the feel of once again being on horseback. As the forest opened up into a meadow, Aimon spurred his horse into a canter. Kathryn followed, urging Josephine on, laughter bubbling up in her chest and her spirit soaring.

Rounding a patch of trees, she eyed the green grass stretching out in front of them.Perfect. She kicked Josephine into a gallop. The mare bounded forward, streaking past Aimon. He muttered a curse, and the pounding of hooves behind her told her he gave chase. Leaning into her horse, standing in the stirrups, her knees pressed against the horse’s sides, she gave Josephine her head.

The mare took the bit in her mouth and increased her speed. Josephine liked to run, too. Wind whipped through Kathryn’s hair and stung her eyes as they galloped across the meadow with Aimon in close pursuit. She had not felt so alive in years.

As the forest loomed, Kathryn reined Josephine in. Panting and out of breath, Kathryn’s smile was so wide her face hurt.

Oh, how I have missed this.

As the mare slowed to a walk, she dropped her reins, and Josephine stretched her neck, snorting and lowering her head to pick at the grass. Kathryn patted the mare’s neck and received a nicker of acknowledgment. They would make a good team.

Aimon reined in beside her, positioning his horse against hers, knee to knee, blue eyes dark and stormy.

“Have a care for the danger, Kathryn.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I have not forgotten how to ride, Aimon.”

“Thatis not what I speak of.”

She took up her reins and steered Josephine away, spinning her around, giving Aimon her back.

“Here is where I get a lecture about not racing off on my own,” she called out over her shoulder. “That it is not safe for me in the forest without you. That I must be coddled and protected and watched.” She sighed and turned Josephine back around so she could face him, but at a distance. “You dangle freedom in front of my nose, Aimon, and when I grab it with both hands, you want to stop me. What is so wrong with a gallop across a meadow?”

Aimon pressed his lips together. “There are dangers you know nothing of. I do not like you so far from me. I cannot protect you.”

“I have lived eleven years, eleven long years, afraid of what I am, hiding myself away and giving up many of the things I loved. You have shown me it does not need to be that way. That my life can be different. I no longer wish to live in fear, Aimon. I want to be me again. To do the things I used to do. Can you not understand that?”

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