Page 32 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

Ophelia

As I leave the forest behind, the music and chaos fading into the distance, the ache in my chest lingers.

The arches of the main building rise ahead, stark against the night, but I barely see them.

I circle past toward the rear grounds, where the training fields stretch wide, and keep walking without pause, my steps pulling me further back.

Toward the stables. Toward my peace.

Bellamy is waiting.

The moment the stalls come into view, my heartbeat eases. My lungs expand as though I’ve been holding them tight all evening.

I push open the stable door, the scent of hay and leather enveloping me. From the far end comes a warm exhale and the soft stamp of hooves.

My heart lifts.

“Hello, my beautiful boy,” I murmur, stepping forward.

Bellamy raises his head, dark eyes meeting mine before he lets out a pleased snort. His white coat gleams even after the journey, his mane brushed and flowing.

I unlatch the stall gate, and he steps forward, pressing his nose to my cheek. I cradle his face in both hands, fingers running down his muzzle. For the first time in days, I feel calm.

“I missed you more than you know,” I whisper.

He nudges my shoulder in reply, and I can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. This feels right. If only for a moment, the weight lifts entirely away from me.

It’s late, the sky stretched in a dark expanse above, but I’ve ridden in worse. This won’t be the first time I’ve taken him out beneath the stars.

I lift the tack from the wall, a dark English saddle and bridle, the leather embroidered with my initials. I work through the motions by habit, tightening the girth, adjusting the bit, settling the noseband. He stands quietly, calm as ever. I reward him with a carrot from the feed box, which he crunches through with satisfaction.

When all is ready, I lead him out through the side exit. There’s a proper trail not far from the stables, kept neat and level for training. But that isn’t what I need tonight. I want the far side of Elaris Isle instead, the old woods, the part left wild.

I mount, settle into the saddle, and guide him forward. Moonlight threads faint silver through the branches, just enough to mark our way. Once the trees fall back and the ground opens before us, I press my knees into his sides.

He breaks into a run.

The earth trembles under the force of his stride, each hoofbeat like thunder rolling through the soil.

The wind claws at my clothes, whips strands of hair free, drags the weight from my chest until it feels as though it might scatter behind me.

Minutes, hours, I can’t tell how long we move like this, only that I don’t want it to end.

The first drop brushes my cheek. I glance upward as the drizzle gathers, light at first. I loosen the reins, and Bellamy falls into a trot before halting altogether. I stay astride, tilting my face to the sky, letting it wash over me.

The stars glimmer faintly between restless clouds. A bead of water trails down my temple, then another, until the rain comes in earnest.

I close my eyes and let the rain soak through me, every layer, every thought, every feeling. It runs down my cheeks, along my arms, down my back, and before I know why, I start to laugh.

A real, unrestrained laugh. Because this is what I needed, to drown out the Circle’s endless games, Arlo’s venom, the gaps in my memory… the boy that—

No. I shake it off, refusing to linger.

I shift in the saddle, give him the signal, and we’re off again. Faster. Deeper into the trees. The ground is slick beneath us, but he knows the way.

Time unravels yet again. We run until my muscles burn and my breath grows ragged. Bellamy’s flanks heave beneath me, his strength finally waning. I ease him to a walk, guiding us back along the familiar trail toward the academy.

By the time we reach the stables, I’m drenched through, hair plastered to my skin, my coat and jumper sodden, my socks squelching with every step once I dismount.