Page 222 of Evil Hearts

He tossed his head with a snort, making the bit jangle.

I made myself walk over and take the bridle. Ruven buried his head against my chest, his breath hot.

The contact helped. It didn’t matter that he was shaped like a horse. He was stillRuven, and my soul knew him no matter the form he wore.

I started petting his neck, the sleek softness of his fur and the power of his body as familiar to me as my own name. “Just a few steps?” I said, my voice sounding smaller than I’d hoped.

Ruven nudged me twice in a movement I thought might be a nod, then stepped back and lowered his head. He held still as I slipped the bridle over his head, and shivered as he took the bit.

My fingers shook, but not enough that I couldn’t do the buckles. Every cinch wound the anticipation tighter. This was as much foreplay as anything else. If I got onto his back—if Irodehim—it was ending with my soulmate buried hilt-deep in me, and I knew exactly how I wanted him. If I claimed this from Ruven, I was claiming everything else, too.

My soulmate lowered himself to his knees, breathing hard, his nostrils flaring. He shivered the skin on his flank like he was trying to shake off flies.

I gripped the reins in one hand, buried my fingers in his milk-white mane, and mounted up.

All the fear vanished the moment my weight settled onto his back. The relief was so complete that I almost broke into tears. It seemed insane that I’d been sweating with fear mere moments ago. Of course Ruven wasn’t going to throw me. Of course I could sit on his slick back without even a saddle pad, and have nothing to fear. He was mysoulmate. I knew every inch of his body with the same instinctual understanding of my own. I wasn’t going to fall any more than I was going to forget how to see.

He stood, and I moved with him like we were one creature, shifting my weight with perfect balance. I still had the muscle for it, even all these months later. It was easy. It was like we’d done this a thousand times in a thousand ways, so practiced it had become second nature—like settling into a dancer’s position with someone with whom you had amazing chemistry, and knowing you were going to have the best dance of your life before the music even started.

Ruven took one careful step forward, and then another. When I didn’t rein him in, he kept walking, taking a slow loop aroundthe courtyard. Halfway through, I nudged him into a trot, sitting down into it with rolling hips and a growing sense of greed. We weren’t merely going to run together. We were going tofly.

I drew him to a halt in front of the door, and Ruven tilted one ear back towards me. “Warmed up?” I asked.

He ducked his head down in a nod, snorting.

“Alright then,” I said, and gave him the reins.

It took him a moment to realize that I wasn’t going to dismount—that, in fact, I was asking him to take us on the ride he’d suggested. Ruven turned his head to look back at me, nostrils flaring.

I clicked my tongue at him,tk-tk!, just like I would have to any other horse who wasn’t getting the cue to pick up the pace. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t have to tell him again. Ruven stepped into a walk and then a smooth trot, ears forward and eyes trained on the gates past the formal gardens. Dust rose behind us in a faint haze. My heart pounded in my throat, bright anticipation singing through my veins.

Once we were outside the town walls, we broke into a canter and then a full gallop. I whooped and started laughing, holding onto his lashing mane, glued to his back like I’d been born there. It took mere minutes to cross the mesa, at which point Ruven dropped back down into a trot, blowing his breaths and with a light sheen of sweat on his neck as we started the descent off of Celedeis.

The heat made the air shimmer. My long-sleeved linen shirt and the white burnoose over my head were my saving grace in the desert heat, keeping the baking sun off my skin and slowing the rate of evaporation of my sweat. Ruven was tireless as he took us down a rocky path, alternating between walking, trotting, and a leg-stretching canter as the terrain allowed.I didn’t even bother trying to steer. The reins were merely decorative; a nice place to rest my hands.

I didn’t even see the river until we were almost on it, not realizing that the dip in the landscape was actually a shallow canyon. But then we were on a steep trail with blue sparkling in the shadow below, and the greenery reached up from the wet to swallow us whole.

When we made it to the narrow strand of pebbled beach below, Ruven heaved a breath and came to a full halt. I didn’t make him kneel. I dismounted, the movement smooth, and patted him on his salt-sheened shoulder.

Ruven didn’t even acknowledge the pat. He waded into the water, ducking his head down to drink as he went, like he was browsing for forage.

I shook my head with a laugh and started unwrapping the burnoose. “Not even going to let me take that bridle off?”

He snorted, lowering himself to his knees in the awkward way horses do, then dropped down onto his side as if he was going to roll. Ruven shifted as he did, his body shrinking and limbs thickening. In only a few seconds, he was himself again, floating in the water and wearing a smile as bright as the sun. He shook off the bridle and chucked it up into the shore, leaving me to hang it up in the shade to dry off.

“Are you going to join me?” he asked, swimming backwards into the deepest part of the river. I could see fish down there, heads pointed upstream. The slim shadows of their bodies darted away as Ruven’s hooves sank too near to their favored resting places.

“I didn’t come all the way herenotto swim,” I retorted. I pulled off my riding boots and set them to the side, peeling off my tall socks right after so I could dangle them over a branch to dry. “Have fun with ride number one? You know you’re going to have to carry me all the way back.”

Ruven found a spot in the water where his feet touched and stood there, the water lapping at his collarbones and his arms slowly fanning through the water to keep him vertical. “Do I get to be ridden again between the twain?” he asked in a throaty voice, his eyes fixed on my hands as I unbuttoned my shirt.

“Wasn’t that the deal?” I asked. I shrugged off the shirt, then unhooked the clasp of my fae-style bra and tossed it on top of the growing heap of clothing.

His sharp inhale was my new favorite music.

As if I didn’t notice his avid interest, I got up and stretched. “So whataremy options for riding you? I know it’s cock of my choice, but given that ‘horse’ is in the mix, I’d like a little more clarity on the range available.” Back to him, I hooked my thumbs over the hem of my breeches and hauled them down, dragging my underwear with them.

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