Page 101 of My Queendom for a Horse

“What?” I force myself into a seated position and look around. The lights are still on outside. No one else is crying out or making a sound. Even the horses on either side of us seem calm enough, judging by the lack of pawing, neighing, or whinnying.

“It’s gone,” Aleks says. “For the first time since that night when everything went black in 1917, the curse is gone, and I sense my powers.”

I just lost a race—with the highest stakes I’ve ever had—and now I’m out of options.

So why does what just happened upset me more than that?

The answer’s horrifying, but in this moment, I have to face the truth. I’m desperate for Aleksandr to stay. Had he needed me to use his powers, he would have pressed to stick around. He probably would have continued trying to convince me to go with him to Russia, too. Because he needed me.

He. Needed. Me.

Without me, he didn’t have access to his magic.

He felt vulnerable. He was afraid. He has enemies that could come for him at any time, and he wanted me around in case they showed. I knew all of that, but at the same time, I also thought maybe we shared something special, a bond.

“That’s good news,” I force myself to say. “Isn’t it?”

He swallows slowly, his eyes intent on my face. “Is it?”

“Of course,” I say. “I was going to send you away either way, but now you don’t even need my help anymore.”

He nods. “It’s true that I don’t.”

“You can go home, and I can too. Neither of us need to worry, or fret, or stress.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious why the curse suddenly just. . .lifted?” Aleks glances around the stall. “I mean, two months of riding and shifting and intermittent instances of me using my power, and nothing. And then today? Bam.”

It is kind of strange. “Maybe it was on some kind of bizarro timer. Or it could have been linked to some kind of life force, like a tree? And someone cut it down.”

“At that moment?” He looks unconvinced.

“Does it really matter?” I ask. “Why?”

He stares at me.

“I mean, it’s not like you want to stay with me now, right?” I hate myself for asking. The wobble in my voice is even worse than the words. It feels like even a kindergartner would be able to tell that I’m hoping he’ll say yes. Desperately hoping that he still wants me now, even though he doesn’t need me.

I hate myself for it.

“Kristiana.” His voice is low, and it does something to me. The same thing it always does.

Heat in my stomach. Butterflies in my chest. My heart beating wildly. “Yeah?”

“You told me yourself.” The corner of his full lips turns up. “You said I had to go, as soon as the race was past.”

But I thought we’d win, I want to cry out. I thought I’d be better without you. I thought I’d be relieved to watch you walk away.

I never imagined it would feel like this. I never thought I’d be centimeters—no, millimeters—from collapsing in a heap and completely losing it.

But that’s my answer. The answer I hoped I wouldn’t find, but I kind of knew was there. The brilliant, powerful, absurdly handsome horse shifter was always far too good for me, and now he doesn’t need me at all.

And he’s going to do exactly what I made him swear to do.

He’s going to leave me.

And he’s not the one who’s broken.

It’s me.

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