Page 108 of My Dark Horse Prince

He takes my hand. “Because being around you, touching you, it makes me lose my mind just a little bit.” He sighs. “Or maybe a lot.”

I don’t even know what to say to that.

“I’ll figure it out,” he says. “I’ll get it under control, and I’ll stop trying to take care of you. I’m working on it, okay?”

In that moment, I realize that when he’s a horse, I absolutely have to think about him as a horse. I can’t even consider him as anything else. I need to use my heels and the reins and make him turn when I want him to turn. Not a second sooner. I have to ride him like I used to ride, without worrying about my leg or his feelings or anything else.

That’s the only way we can win.

For the first time, instead of just feeling guilty at the prospect of losing him to Brigita since he’s not a real horse, I feel sick at the idea of her touching him. Of her riding him. Of her having anything to do with him.

Because he’s mine.

“It’s my issue,” I say. “I’ll fix it tomorrow, I promise.”

He takes my hand again. “Can we just—”

I yank my arm free. He may be mine, but I’m not about to admit that to him. “No, we can’t just anything. You’re helping me so that you can get your powers back, and once I’ve won, I’m sure I’ll be able to say it. I’ll be able to convincingly forgive you for all that mess you created. Once I can do that, you can get your powers back and leave, okay?”

“I don’t want to leave,” he says. “I meant it when—”

“No more of that,” I say. “None. If you keep talking, I’ll change you into a horse again right here.”

“But—”

“No buts. You get to go do whatever you want with your free time, but I have to walk to the corner where the bus comes, wait for half an hour, get on the bus, and head for the grocery store. Then I have to shop for me and my sister and my mom and come back and make food for them. My mom’s barely holding onto her resolve, and I’m exhausted and broke, and I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now. Got it?”

Grigoriy frowns, but he doesn’t argue any more. I decide it’s too hard to switch him back to a horse right now, so I just walk inside and slam the door instead.

“Are you alright?” Mom’s head pokes around the corner of the door to the second bedroom. Adriana and I are sharing, since that seemed more polite than asking my sister to share with my mother. It might have been a mistake. She mostly hides in her room all day, and neither of us have an excuse to go inside.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Was that your fiancé?” Mom perks up. “I haven’t seen him at all since. . .” She swallows. “You should invite him inside.”

My voice is flat when I say, “We broke up.” She may as well get used to the idea now. How horrible would I be if I encouraged her enough that she started, like, shopping online for wedding dresses or something?

Not that any of us could even afford one.

“Why would you do that?” Her entire face falls.

“Mom.” I straighten and cross the room. “It’s for the best. He’s not the right kind of guy for me.”

“What does that mean?” She frowns. “He’s rich.”

“Oh my word, Mom. Is that really your number one criterion?” Is that why she married Martinš? Because if so, he’s been a huge disappointment.

“Not only that,” she says. “He’s handsome. He’s powerful.”

“Mom, he makes decisions for me, and even though he knows I hate it, he can’t seem to help doing it. He’s pushy and domineering, and we argue all the time.”

“I never argue with Martinš,” she says softly.

That takes the oomph out of my ranting. I collapse into the chair in the corner of the small kitchen. “We aren’t a good fit, okay? Just give it up.”

“If he’s not going to be around,” she says, “maybe I should go.”

“What?” I stand up. “Why?”

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