Page 43 of Finding Little Fiera

And just like that, a calm settled over her. Man, he was good at the Daddy thing.

“Your bull doesn’t hate you.” His thumbs pressed reassuringly into her legs. “It’s testin’ you, but I think red suits you. It’s the color of passion, and I love the passion you put into everything you do. Are you ready to try again?”

“I’m gonna fall.”

“No, you’re not.” The certainty in his tone wrapped around her like armor. “You can do it.”

She had no words, so she nodded as her heart did something stupidly soft. She adjusted her grip on the handles and bounced gingerly. The weight rolled again, this time in a different direction. But instead of fighting it, she leaned into the shift. She glanced up at her Daddy, and he nodded.

She bounced again. And again. Slowly, she got used to the rhythm. Bounce. Lean. Correct. There it was. She was in the groove now. She let out a laugh at the wild-but-not-out-of-control sway of her bouncy bull. “Oh,” she breathed.

Master Mace’s hands eased away slowly. “That’s it.”

She shot him a look of alarm. What was he doing? She still needed him. “Don’t go far.”

A slow grin curled his lips.

Gah! Those dimples were going to kill her.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, babygirl.”

And again, just like that, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

Once the qualifying heat was lined up, Master Mace crossed the clearing. He stood on the other side, but his voice was easy to hear. “On your marks. Get set. Go!”

Chaos erupted.

Littles bounced across the grass in uneven spurts, bulls squeaking and wobbling. One girl tipped sideways and shrieked before scrambling back on. Someone else spun in a half-circle and had to correct course.

Sadie launched forward as if she was riding for a championship buckle. “Come on, Daisy. We have prizes to win.”

Daisy was having a bit more trouble handling her bouncy bull. She yelled back, “I’m trying. Quick, dare me to stay on this crazy thing!”

Wren cackled as she flew toward the head of the bouncing contenders. “Giddy up!”

Fiera focused. Bounce, lean, adjust. Just as she practiced with her Daddy. The pole she had to circle loomed closer. In five more hops, she rounded it, her heart hammering.

All of a sudden, Laura bounced up beside her. Of course she did. They hit the straightaway back toward the line at the same time. They were racing neck and neck. Fiera wasn’t holding a grudge, but that didn’t mean she was going to let Laura beat her. Yeah, that was not happening.

Fiera pushed harder, thighs burning. She and Laura tied. It wasn’t what Fiera wanted, but it was better than losing.

Master Mace and another Daddy quickly conferred. When they finished, Mace announced, “The heat one winners are Wren Lawrence and Blake Brighton!”

Wren threw her arms up in victory. Fiera joined Sadie and Daisy in cheering on their friends. The Little beside Wren—Blake, her Daddy had said—grinned, breathless but triumphant. He was tall, taller than she was. She hadn’t met him yet, but Sadie had talked about how nice he was.

“All right, everyone who wants to compete in heat two, up to the red line,” Master Mace called out. Fiera, Sadie, and Daisy raced to their spots and mounted their bull bouncies. Two Littles Fiera didn’t know won that heat. Sadie came in third, muttering darkly about injustice.

By the time all five heats were over, ten Littles remained: Wren, Blake, Sadie, Daisy, Fiera, four people she didn’t know, and Laura. Trying hard not to wish anyone but Laura had made it into the finals, Fiera held out her hand to congratulate her wannabe archenemy.

Laura took one look at Fiera’s outstretched hand and walked right past her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “You should practice not embarrassing yourself,” she murmured, low and sharp. “It’d be a new skill for you.”

Fiera’s spine stiffened. Laura didnotjust say that. Oh, but she had, the witch. Fiera glanced around to see if anyone was close enough to have overheard, but no one was. Of course they weren’t.

Fiera’s jaw tightened. Everything inside her screamed for revenge. But not now. Laura would just find a way to turn it against her. Fiera took a deep breath and forced her face to smooth. Not now didn’t mean not ever.

She didn’t have time anyway, as Master Mace called out, “Final heat! Let our ten finalists line up on the red line. The same rules apply, and the first five to finish the race will receive medals.”

Excited gasps rippled through the group. Fiera’s pulse pounded in her ears. She wouldn’t let Laura get in her head. Not this time.