Page 75 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

T he stares Rose attracted as she walked through the stables made her self-conscious. Perhaps Roman had been right to second-guess her choice. But it was too late to back out now. She tucked away the insecurity and held her chin high, pretending to admire the beasts.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught one of Moretti’s friends openly staring at her with approving eyes. As she neared, he leaned toward Moretti, whispering something in his ear.

Moretti’s gaze flickered to her, then back to his friend, and then snapped back to her.

Rose did her best to pretend she didn’t see any of it, her eyes lingering on the black beast. But then, ever so strategically, she met his bright blue eyes.

She kept her face uninterested, letting her eyes roam over him, assessing his worth. Then, without offering anything else, her eyes abandoned his and she continued to walk, fully aware his were still locked on her.

“Excuse me, miss,” a deep voice called behind her.

The faintest smile of victory pulled at her lips. She slipped it off before she spun around.

“May I be so bold as to ask for your help?” Moretti asked, flashing her a razor smile.

“What help would I be, exactly?” she asked, keeping her voice smooth and lush.

“Help settle a debate between me and my colleagues,” he explained, tilting his head to the four men behind him.

Rose took a few lazy steps forward, folding her arms. “And what debate is that?”

“I was hoping you could tell me what I ought to do about this sleipnir.” He cast his gaze up to the giant dark beast. “He’s turned out to be quite the handful.

Trampled his rider to death this morning, I’m afraid.

” He spoke so casually it was as though it was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“Which puts quite the damper on this fine race people have paid good money to see. We’re debating whether to let another rider race him or to take our loss and kill the beast. You see, they’re afraid he’s too wild to tame. ”

Kill it? Her eyes flashed. “What do you say?”

“I’d like him to live to see another day,” Moretti confessed, showing mercy.

“Sleipnirs are quite the investment, you see—finding them, training them, breeding them. But my friends—” he glanced over his shoulder at them, “—aren’t convinced a rider will take him due to his history.

I find my hands are tied if that’s the case.

” His gaze came back to her. “I am curious to hear what you, as an unbiased third party, would have to say on the matter.”

She shifted her eyes to the beast, ignoring the four men’s leering stares as she stalked past them up to the sleipnir’s stall for a better look, determined to keep her face devoid of the fear that was clamoring inside.

She looked up into the beast’s dark, coal eyes, staring back at her, expecting to see a wild, untamed fire, but she found nothing but a puff of smoke. Her attention turned to the sleipnir’s powerful body, marked by scars strewn across its abdomen.

“These scars. What are they from?” she asked.

Moretti tilted his head, his interest piqued by the question. “They’re from the riders training them, of course.”

“With?”

“A sharp rod.” He didn’t hide the fact, nor look ashamed.

She hid her disgust. “It’s no wonder he trampled him,” she said, her voice hardened, forgetting she was supposed to be witty and charming.

The sleipnir blinked as it shifted its snout towards her, its ears twitching.

Moretti raised an eyebrow. “It is custom. Every sleipnir is trained this way.”

“Just because it’s the way things are, doesn’t mean it’s what should be.”

Truer words were never spoken, a soft foreign voice spoke in her mind.

Her eyes whipped to the sleipnir, doing her best to hide her shock as she said, Can you hear me? She spoke to it in her mind like the sea beast and the phoenix.

Yes, he answered, his voice surprisingly warm and gentle. His mind brushed against hers, letting her know he would not hurt her if she did the same.

I’m Rose, she introduced herself. I come as a friend. I won’t hurt you.

I know you won’t, he replied. Your heart is far too kind.

They are debating whether or not to keep you, she explained. They insist you take another rider or they’ll kill you.

I don’t want any of them riding me again, the sleipnir seethed in disdain. I’d rather die. If you were me, you’d say the same.

Her eyes softened with empathy. She reached to touch his thick, soft, silky hair, gently placing her palm on his cheek. Moretti took a quick, nervous step forward, but his face relaxed in awe, watching her interact with the sleipnir.

I understand how you feel, she said. Her father had taught her the same way that rod had taught the sleipnir—violence for obedience.

It was then she got the stupidest idea she’d ever had in her entire life. Would you let me ride you?

She could feel the surprise within the sleipnir’s mind. If it’s you, I will. But only you.

She faced Moretti. “I think you should let him race.”

Moretti stepped closer. “I agree, but it still doesn’t solve the problem that no one dares ride him.”

“I will.” She sounded bolder than she felt.

The four men burst into laughter. However, Moretti didn’t laugh with them.

“You wish to be his rider?” he probed, intrigued.

She held his gaze. “That’s what I said.”

“You recall the part where I told you he just killed a man this morning,” Moretti reminded her, pointing out the obvious.

“He won’t hurt me.”

“Have you ever seen a race? What happens to the riders?”

“No,” she admitted. But she lifted her chin, keeping her head high. “But I’m an excellent horse rider and a fast learner.”

Moretti’s lips curled into a sly smile. “I admire your courage, truly. But fast learner or not, it’s too dangerous. I can’t allow someone with such a pretty face to die unnecessarily.”

“Me being a rider would generate more money than you’ve ever made before,” she pointed out, trying to appeal to his greed.

“As true as that is, your death would also put a damper on things.”

It was clear she’d have to try a different approach. “Perhaps I could make you a deal. You like making bets. Let me race. If I win, I keep the sleipnir.”

His eyes quirked. “And if you lose?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” she said with a cautious gaze.

Moretti’s handsome face morphed into a dangerous smirk.

She had him now.

He assessed her with admiration. “Alright. If you lose—” he brushed her cheek with his knuckles, “—you come home with me.”

“Deal,” she agreed. “But don’t get your hopes up. I may not look like much, but I’m full of surprises.”

He gave a heartless laugh. It was clear he liked the game. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Draya. Draya Santres,” she lied, spitting out the first name that came into her head.

“My name is Felix, Felix Moretti. Now, let’s get you saddled up.”

No saddles, the sleipnir said. He must have felt her mortification because he added, Trust me.

“Thank you, but I’ll ride bareback,” she said, pretending to have all the confidence in the world.

Moretti’s brows raised, questioning her judgment yet again, but for some reason, he let her put herself in danger. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Ms. Santres.” His voice was laced with warning.

“Oh, don’t worry… I’m an excellent rider,” she drawled with a smirk, knowing the insinuation would drive him wild.

Moretti’s lips slipped into a serpentine smile, his colleagues practically drooling behind him.

“As you wish,” he agreed with a light nod.

“I’ll go tell the supervisors the good news.

The race starts in fifteen minutes.” He leaned in closer again, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“I’d wish you good luck, but I’d be lying to both of us,” he confessed huskily into her ear, pulling back to look her dead in the eye before leaving.

Panic attacked her as she watched him strut away. Shit. What had she just agreed to?

I won’t let anything happen to you, the sleipnir’s calming voice rang through her mind.

She gazed up at the terrifying beast. I’m putting my trust in you. I know nothing of these races.

We’ll win, he willed in confidence.

Rose wished she was so sure. She peered down at her dress, now more than ever regretting her outfit choice. Her legs would be rubbed raw. She needed to find different clothing.

Stay in that, the sleipnir recommended. It’s light, and it’s better your legs are bare. They’ll hold better to my body.

Rose couldn’t hide her skepticism. How can that be?

Come closer and feel, the sleipnir invited.

She opened up the gate, feeling remarkably small next to the giant beast. Her bare hands glided over its soft hair, although they weren’t gliding at all. As soon as she tried, her hand refused to move. It was as if the fibers of its hair somehow became magnetic.

Incredible, she said, astounded. Why don’t the other racers do this?

We won’t let them touch us bare. This alone will give us an advantage, the sleipnir boasted with pride.

She peered at the other sleipnir handlers and riders, each of whom wore gloves.

“Rose,” a harsh voice called.

She whirled, finding Roman’s hooded figure staring at her back. “What the hell are you doing?” His eyes flickered anxiously to the sleipnir.

She looked around before pulling him into the stall.

He stiffened, eyeing the sleipnir with hesitation, but the creature was the least of their worries.

“It’s okay, he won’t hurt us. Listen, I’ve agreed to be a rider.”

Roman’s honed body became deathly still as his eyes darkened into a shade deeper than the beast beside her. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“You’re going to have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

Lies, and he knew it.

In slow, dangerous movements, he stalked toward her, herding her into the corner of the stall. He lifted his hands on either side of her head as he leaned in, leaving her breaths uneven. “I thought the plan was to get Moretti’s attention. Not a death wish.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. This will get his attention far more than any amount of flirting. We made a deal: if I lose—which is highly likely—I’ll have to go home with him.”

Roman’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “I don’t want you sleeping with him,” he hissed.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she shot back.

“I’m not letting you. You’ll get yourself killed.

These riders have been training for this for years.

Years . Do you know what they’re like? They’re cold, ruthless brutes, all of them.

They won’t think twice before knocking you off your sleipnir.

You have absolutely no idea what you’re walking into. ”

“I won’t get hurt. I have a plan. Somehow, I can speak to the sleipnir like I spoke to the phoenix. I’ll be fine.”

He gawked at her like she’d grown two heads. “This whole thing was a mistake. We’re going back. Right now.” He turned to leave.

Rose held her ground, grabbing his arm and spinning him back to face her.

She cupped his face, drawing him so close he had to brace against the wall again to avoid colliding with her.

“Remember when you told me you’d never doubt me again?

” she coaxed, realizing she was trying to use what little charm she had on him.

“I need you to do that for me right now.”

His eyes faltered, but his jaw clenched in frustration. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” he confessed in a whisper, so vulnerable her heart soared at the sentiment. He was worried about her, for her safety.

Fool. She was a simpering fool to let such a tiny gesture have so much power.

“Nothing will happen to me,” she promised. “Trust me.”

His conflicted eyes fought an internal battle as a mixture of emotions ran across his face. “Damn you.” He caved, letting out a loud breath. “What can I do?”

She leaned in closer to his lips. Roman’s muscles tensed under her hands. “Help me get on,” she blurted before she did anything stupid, nodding to the sleipnir.

Roman surrendered, defeated. His large hands slid down, gripping her thighs, hoisting her legs around his solid waist. His golden eyes clouded with what she could only hope was desire.

He pressed his forehead against hers and said in a fierce whisper, “You better fucking come back to me. You hear me? I thought I lost you once… Don’t you dare make me live through that again.” His cheek brushed against hers, pressing his lips against her neck just under her ear.

The light kiss ignited her body into pure flame, creating a burning desire the likes she’d never felt. Not with Tristan, not with Xavier?—

Not with anyone.

The next moment, Roman hoisted her up onto the beast. She slipped onto the sleipnir’s back easier than she expected, securing herself by tightening her legs around him while her hands reached for his long black mane for support.

As she settled, she sensed people staring, watching in awe as whispers filled the stalls.

She paid no attention to them as she gazed down at Roman, who anchored her. He looked as if he was thinking about ripping her back off the sleipnir. But he tore his eyes over to the gate, opening it and stretching it out wide.

His stare was still searing into her back as she rode out.

She had no idea what she was about to face.