CHAPTER 10
THE BEAST BENEATH
POV: Elodie Fray
Location: The Stables of Hallowed Halls (Indoor Arena)
Track: Blood // Water – grandson (Slowed the bridle glints with silver.
"Your turn," Alaric says.
"I can't ride him," I protest, my voice rising an octave. "Alaric, I've never been on a horse. He’ll kill me."
"He might," Alaric agrees casually. "If you let him." He leads the horse into the center of the indoor arena, a large oval of packed dirt surrounded by a high wooden wall. He stops and turns to me. "Come here."
I walk toward them, my legs feeling like lead. The closer I get, the bigger Charon seems. He smells of power. I can feel the heat radiating off his massive flank. Alaric hands me the reins. "Hold these. Don't pull. Just contact."
I take the leather straps. My hands are shaking. Charon feels the tremor immediately. He tosses his head, the metal bit clinking against his teeth, and steps sideways, invading my space. I gasp and shrink back.
"Stand your ground!" Alaric barks. "If you retreat, you lose. He is testing you."
"He's huge!"
"He is a prey animal, Elodie. He is looking for a leader. If you don't lead, he will panic. Be the predator."
Be the predator. Easy for him to say. He is the apex predator.
I am just the girl who cried in a bathroom yesterday.
But I look at the horse. I look at the massive, dark eye watching me.
I swallow my fear. I tighten my grip on the reins.
"Easy," I say, trying to pitch my voice low like Alaric does. "Easy, you beast."
Charon snorts, but he stands still.
"Good," Alaric murmurs. He moves to the side of the horse. "Now, mount."
"How?"
"Left foot in the stirrup. Grab the pommel. Jump." He sees my hesitation. He sighs, a sound of impatience. "I will help you. But only this once."
He steps behind me. His hands—those large, scarred hands that were inside me only hours ago—grip my waist. The touch burns through the layers of the riding coat and the shirt. It brands me. "Left foot up," he commands near my ear.
I lift my boot and jam it into the silver stirrup. "One, two, three." Alaric hoists me up. His strength is effortless. I swing my right leg over the saddle and land with a thump.
The world tilts. I am suddenly eight feet in the air. The ground looks terrifyingly far away. The saddle feels slippery, precarious. Charon shifts his weight, and I grab the mane, terrified I’m going to slide off.
"Sit up," Alaric orders. He doesn't let go of the bridle. He stands next to the horse's shoulder, looking up at me. "Shoulders back. Spine straight. You look like a sack of potatoes."
I straighten my spine, glaring at him. "I'm terrified."
"Fear makes you heavy. Confidence makes you light." He walks to my leg. "Your stirrups are too long."
He begins to adjust the leather strap. His head is level with my thigh.
He finishes the adjustment and then places his hand on my calf.
"Leg position is critical," he says, his voice dropping into that dark, lecture-hall tone.
He slides his hand up my boot. Over my knee.
onto my thigh. He grips the inside of my thigh, hard.
"Open," he says.
My breath hitches. "Alaric..."
"Open your legs, Elodie. You are gripping with your knees.
That tells the horse to run. You need to drape your leg around him.
" He pushes my knee away from the saddle, forcing my thighs apart.
The stretch pulls at the sore muscles in my groin—the muscles he overextended last night.
I wince, a small sound escaping my throat.
Alaric freezes. He looks up. His eyes lock onto mine. He knows exactly why I winced. "Sore?" he asks softly.
My face burns. "Yes."
"Good." He doesn't remove his hand. He leaves it there, high on my inner thigh, his thumb resting dangerously close to the junction of my legs. The heat of his palm seeps through the beige breeches. "Every time you feel that ache," he whispers, "you remember who put it there."
Charon shifts again, sensing the tension between us. Alaric pats my leg once—a proprietary claim—and steps back. "Walk on," he commands. "Squeeze with your heels. Gently."
I squeeze. Charon moves. The motion is jarring at first. A swaying, rolling rhythm that throws me off balance. I clutch the reins, my knuckles white. "Don't pull!" Alaric shouts. "You're hurting his mouth. Use your seat. Move with him."
We walk in a circle. Slowly, the panic begins to recede.
The rhythm of the horse is hypnotic. One-two-three-four.
It’s like music. It’s a beat. I start to breathe.
I start to feel the animal beneath me not as a monster, but as a force.
A massive engine of muscle and blood that I am sitting on top of.
"Better," Alaric calls out from the center of the ring. He is watching me with hawk eyes, arms crossed over his chest. "Now, trot."
"I'm not ready for—"
"Trot!" He claps his hands loudly.
Charon launches forward. The smooth walk turns into a bouncy, bone-jarring gait. I am thrown up and down in the saddle, slamming against the leather. "Ouch!" I cry out. "Stop!"
"Don't stop!" Alaric yells. "Post! Rise and sit! Up, down! Up, down! Find the rhythm, Elodie! You’re a musician, for God’s sake. Count!"
I try. Up, down. Up, down. It’s chaotic. My teeth are rattling. I’m slipping to the side. "He's going too fast!"
"He's going the speed you allow him to go!" Alaric counters. "You are the control mechanism. If you are chaotic, he is chaotic."
I grit my teeth. I focus on the sound of the hooves.
Clip-clop-clip-clop. I find the beat. I rise.
I sit. I rise. I sit. Suddenly, the bouncing stops.
I am floating. I am moving in sync with the beast. The wind rushes past my face.
The power of the animal flows up through the saddle and into my spine.
It feels... incredible. It feels like flying. For a moment, I forget Alaric. I forget the asylum. I am just a girl on a horse, powerful and free. I smile. I actually smile.
Then, disaster.
A peal of thunder cracks directly overhead, shaking the tin roof of the arena.
Charon spooks. He doesn't just shy. He rears.
The world goes vertical. The massive black neck flies up in front of me.
Hooves flail in the air. I scream, sliding backward.
I lose my stirrups. I lose the reins. I am falling.
"Lean forward!" Alaric’s voice cuts through the chaos. "Grab his neck!"