Page 24 of Meadowsweet and Marigold
Time seemed to slow as she took in the flecks of gold in his warm brown irises. Her Omega senses went into overdrive, every nerve ending suddenly alive and crackling with energy.
A wave of heat rushed through her body, pooling low in her abdomen.
Her mouth went dry, a sudden thirst overwhelming her.
This…is unreal. Control yourself, Marigold. He’s not the first Alpha you’ve ever met…or touched.
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, struggling to form coherent thoughts. "I don't know what happened."
Meadow's scent enveloped her – earthy and warm, with hints of leather and sun-warmed hay. It was intoxicating, unlike anything she'd experienced before.
Her body hummed with a primal need that both thrilled and terrified her.
She wouldn’t acknowledge how much closer she was leaning toward the thrilling excitement side of the spectrum.
"No need to apologize," Meadow said gently, still holding her steady. "Everyone loses their balance sometimes."
Marigold nodded, unable to look away from his eyes.
She felt safe in his arms, protected in a way she hadn't felt in years. It was a fleeting moment, but one that left an indelible mark on her soul.
"Should we... should we try again?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Meadow's hands lingered for a moment as he helped Marigold regain her footing, his touch gentle yet firm.
He stepped back, giving her space, but remained close enough to offer support if needed.
"Whenever you're ready," he said softly, his calm voice a balm to her frayed nerves. "No rush. Take your time."
Marigold smoothed her hands down her jeans, trying to compose herself. Her heart still raced, but now from a mix of determination and lingering awareness of Meadow's proximity.
"I can do this," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Meadow nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"I know you can."
She wasn’t expecting his encouragement, but it helped giving her even a greater boost of confidence to achieve something so simple as mounting a horse.
Taking a deep breath, Marigold approached the horse again. She placed her left foot in the stirrup, gripping the saddle horn tightly.
"That's it," Meadow encouraged quietly. "Now push up with your leg and swing your right over."
Marigold hesitated for a split second, then pushed off the ground.
This time, her movements were more controlled and more deliberate. With a fluid motion that surprised even herself, she swung her leg over and settled into the saddle.
A small, triumphant laugh escaped her lips.
"I did it!"
"You certainly did," Meadow affirmed, his eyes crinkling with genuine warmth.
Sitting atop the horse, Marigold felt a surge of accomplishment. It was a small victory, but after so much loss, it felt monumental. She straightened her spine, muscle memory from her ballet days kicking in as she found her seat.
"How does it feel?" Meadow asked, his hand resting lightly on the horse's neck.
Marigold took a moment to consider, relishing the new perspective.
