41. Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
The horse snorted and kicked, stamping as if in answer.
My chest tightened. Gods, it knew my inexperience, and it already wasn’t a fan of me.
Tairngire appeared at my shoulder, his presence searing, voice low enough for only me.
“This is Tadgh, and he will throw you, Aurenya,” he said, brow arched, amused per usual.
“Not if I ask him not to.” I yanked the stirrup down, fumbling for the saddle.
He reached, steadying the leather with one strong hand. “Let me—”
“I don’t need your help.” My voice cracked sharp as Goibniu’s steel. With one last burst of rage, I hauled myself up, one foot in the stirrup—graceless, but up all the same. The horse chuffed beneath me, shifting his weight on his hooves.
I brushed my knuckle against the back of my steed’s neck. “You are a mighty and majestic beast and won’t throw me, right Tadgh?” He grunted in response. I could only hope that it was him agreeing, but I doubted it.
For the barest flicker, something softened in Tairngire’s gaze. Then his hand fell away. “Such a defiant little thing,” he whispered.
The words curled low in my chest. I couldn’t tell if he was talking about me or the horse. His eyes lingered, focused and steady, as if he could see the pulse hammering beneath my skin.
So, me then.
“Better than obedient, you’d like that too much,” I shot back, though my voice caught.
His expression shifted. “Hmm. We’ll see.”
With a sharp tug on the reins, he turned, whistling low. His beast of a stallion trotted up beside mine. He swung into the saddle with the kind of ease only a god could manage.
It was as if the horse were an extension of his will. Power clung to him like a second skin, undeniable.
“Hope you can keep up with Rowan and I, Little Seer. You’ll need to put that weight training to use, your leg strength will be tested today.” he said, voice carrying like thunder across the courtyard.
So we were back to Little Seer again. Of course we were.
I tried to ignore it. Truly, I did. The soft snicker from Ailbhe as she leaned toward Saoirse. Their whispering was obvious, though I couldn’t hear the words. I didn’t need to. My struggle to mount the beast was entertainment enough for her, and I'm sure she had all sorts of fuel for her fire now.
The steed shifted, impatient, massive muscles bunching beneath me. My palms were slick on the reins. I tried to soothe the horse with a smooth hand down its neck. I narrowed my eyes at Ailbhe, who was still snickering.
Gods, did she really have nothing better to do?
Tairngire noticed. That low chuckle curled like smoke around me. "Jealousy has a certain glow to it,” he drawled, voice carrying enough for only my ears. "Doesn't it?"
I whipped my head toward him, heat spiking hotter than the horse’s breath against my boots. "If you think I waste so much as a thought on that horrendous woman, then you’re even more delusional than I thought.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, leaning toward me. His gaze flicked to Ailbhe, still smirking in steel and spite, then back at me. “Then perhaps it’s me you’re still upset with.”
My spine locked with fury blistering hotter than the horse’s breath. “How very intuitive of you, Tairngire,” I spat between grit teeth. The air stilled. Even the horses tossed their heads, sensing the bite in my voice.
His brows lifted, mocking, as though my rage delighted him. “Whatever for now, Little Seer? That I tried to keep you from breaking your neck? Or that I made a fool of you?”
“You didn’t need to,” I bristled, red coloring my cheeks. “I can manage the latter just fine without your help.”
He shrugged, keeping his expression blank. “Well, even I can’t argue with that.”
My knuckles whitened around the reins. The god who had whispered sweet words under soft sheets and given me pleasure last night was gone, and back in its place was the arrogant mask.
But then he leaned closer, his voice rough silk against my ear. “Defiance looks better on you than obedience, for the record.”
Something unspoken sparked between us, until his laugh broke it—low, curling around my ribs. He straightened in the saddle, lifting a hand high.
“Forward.”
The command cracked through the courtyard, and the brigade surged like a wave, hooves striking stone, thunder rolling down the valley.
Tadgh jolted beneath me, massive muscles bunching with every step, and it took every shred of willpower not to slide straight back out of the saddle.
My thighs burned. My grip on the reins was slick with sweat, and still the beast continued onward as though it could sense how unready I was.
My jaw locked. Nobody was going to have an excuse to mock the mortal.
Branwyn’s laughter carried like silver bells over the thunder of hooves.
Her horse pranced high with every step—charmed, no doubt, to show her off like a queen.
To my left, Mairenn rode with the grace of someone born in the saddle, with her golden braid whipping behind her.
Scáthae hung farther back, dark eyes assessing the Goibniu children as if weighing every move they made.
I glanced to my left, where Tairngire sat on his steed as though he and the beast were one, broad back straight, curls falling into his eyes as he leaned into the rhythm of the ride—speaking to his horse as he rode.
He looked carved from myth, all raw power and impossible control, and my stomach twisted hot remembering the way his hands had felt on me the night before.
I forced my gaze away, only for his stallion to draw closer, his shadow falling across mine.
“Tell me, Aurenya,” he drawled, the sound of my name curling around his tongue in a pitch so low only I could catch it beneath the pounding hooves.
“Are you clutching those reins like that because you’re afraid…
or because you’re remembering how tight your thighs locked around me when I had you coming apart in my hands last night? ”
Heat shot up my throat, scorching my cheeks. Goddess, he was the worst. I bared my teeth, forcing steel into my voice. “Arrogant assumptions, per usual. And I was imagining strangling you, if you must know.”
He let out a full bodied laugh, the kind that got underneath my skin in all the right places. “Ah. Then I’ll ride closer, in case you decide to try. Wouldn’t want to miss out on that particular experience.”
“You’re deranged.” I muttered under my breath, not caring to glance in his direction to figure out whether or not he'd heard me.
The hours stretched. The steady beat of hooves drummed into my bones until I could no longer tell where my body ended and the beast beneath me began.
Fields rolled silver with dew, streams flashed like ribbons of glass, and Cindraloch’s beauty unfurled in storybook fashion—fairy-tale mountains and forests so lush they seemed to have their own pulse.
By the time the sun dipped low, the path narrowed into shadowed woodland, forcing the company to slow. Naturally, my horse did not get the message from me.
The moment the pace eased, the creature surged forward as if insulted by the mere idea of slowing.
I yanked on the reins—far too late—earning only a furious snort and a jarring bounce that rattled my spine.
The beast tossed its head and veered toward the trees, clearly deciding that I was the passenger here, not the rider.
My leg strength was, indeed, being tested.
Thanks, Tairngire.
“Shh, by the gods, please, slow down.” I whispered, trying to sound convincing and soothing in tandem, like the scrolls had told me. The steed merely chewed the bit like he was laughing at me.
And honestly? He probably was.
Ailbhe shot a look over her shoulder that was nothing short of wicked.
“Tell him. Don’t ask,” she called. “I realize begging is something you’re probably used to, but these aren’t pony-yard pets.
Steeds in Cindraloch follow certainty. The strength of a guiding hand.
Something you know absolutely nothing about. "
I chose to ignore that.
As if summoned by humiliation, Tairngire’s horse edged close. His presence a heat at my side. He reached across and laid two fingers against my steed’s neck. He leaned in, his lips brushing the air beside the horses ear.
“Tadgh…éist, a m’anam fiáin…lig do chroí suaimhniú.”
The response was instant. My horse went from defiant storm to the passivity of a quiet river, muscles loosening, breath setting. Its ears tipped toward him in recognition, in reverence. It seemed like Tairngire had that effect on every living thing.
Show-off.
He withdrew his hand. His gaze slid to mine with a look that was all shadowed triumph and maddening restraint.
“I did warn you, Aurenya.” he shrugged.
I ignored him. “What did you say to him?”
He gave me an accusatory look, obviously judging the fact that I hadn’t taken his advice to study up on the Old Tongue, but where did he think I’d catch the time, what with trying to save the realms and all?
“Listen, my wild soul…let your heart be still. Honestly, Little Seer, with all the time you spend, nose in book, I expected more from you in the linguistics department.”
He just couldn’t help himself. I rolled my eyes and continued clutching the reins for dear life, trying to ignore Alibhe’s sneers and summon my dignity back.
Trees loomed tall and close, their branches knitting into a canopy that muted the world to green and gold.
Tadgh tossed his head and winged restlessly, and the others pressed forward two by two.
Tairngire took the opportunity to open his mouth again. "Looks like you’re stuck with me at the back.”
“Gods help me,” I muttered, but my pulse quickened as my gaze drifted to his large hands, memories of them bringing me my first climax. I could feel my cheeks turning red.
Ugh, this was going to be an exhausting journey if my mind didn’t take a break.
We rode next to each other in silence for a while, until I couldn’t handle it anymore, questions burning on my tongue.