Page 44 of Laird of Wrath

He knew that after a certain point, the path would become much wilder, much steeper, a place where few ever went. And so, before they reached that bend, he looked at her and asked, “How about another race?”

The smile she gave him was all the answer he needed.

14

If there was one thing Rhea was always ready for, it was a horse race. She had been more than happy to race him the last time they had been out there together, and now it was no different.

She knew this path well, though Callum seemed to know it, too. It was a long one, leading to the nearest village, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was where he was taking her. But he still hadn’t given her a single clue about their destination, and she knew better than to ask now.

Sooner or later, it would be revealed to her.

She didn’t wait for his signal before she urged her horse to go faster, laughing as her mare leapt down the path. Behind her, Callum’s curse echoed in the woods around them, a brief moment of silence following it before his horse thundered down the path.

Soon, he was right behind her. It was no wonder. His horse was fast, fearless, though he didn’t seem quite as gentle as hers, quite as steady on his feet. Callum had traded security and predictability for raw power and speed, and now he would pay for it.

Rhea could see him out of the corner of her eye, a blur of dark brown and green as he whizzed past her. Still, he was close, the two of them riding almost side by side down the path. Only this time, they did so while galloping at full speed.

“Come, lassie,” Rhea urged her mare, holding tightly onto the reins as she steered her. “Let us show them what we can do.”

It was as if the beast could hear her, as if she, too, wanted to prove herself. She sped down the path, going faster and faster, pushing herself to catch up to Slàinte.

Rhea laughed, the sound soon fading in the wind. All she could hear was the whistling of it, the sound deafening along with the thunder of hooves. All she could see was the bend in the path, where they would either stop or continue, the definitive moment of the entire race.

If she could overtake him there, if she could move just a little bit faster around the corner, then she was bound to win.

She kept checking up on Callum out of the corner of her eye, making sure he was still next to her. He seemed more carefree now, his face more open, his expression more relaxed, as if this race was enough to take some of the burden off his shoulders. Itwas so unlike him that she almost wanted to let him win just to see what he would be like.

Would he be happy? Would he be excited? Would he laugh?

Had she ever heard him laugh?

She couldn’t remember. But as much as she wanted to see what would happen if he won, she also wanted to win. She wanted to prove herself to him, to show him that she was just as good as he was, that she was capable.

Many men had underestimated her throughout the years, and she had made sure to become so skillful in the same things they were so that they would never doubt her again. And though Callum didn’t seem to doubt her, especially when it came to her riding skills, she wanted to prove to him once and for all that she had nothing to envy men who rode just as well as she did.

They were so close to the bend now that Rhea could almost taste victory, their horses chest to chest as they were about to turn. But just as she sped past Callum, fearless in the way she hurried and balanced herself, he suddenly disappeared.

A thud followed, along with a groan of pain.

Rhea brought her horse to a sudden halt. Her heart racing in her chest, she turned her horse around to find Callum on the ground, writhing in pain as his horse lingered nearby. His saddle had fallen off, lying on the ground behind him.

Her heart leapt to her throat as she jumped off her horse and rushed to him, falling to her knees on the ground next to him. Her hands hovered over his body, uncertain of what to do. If he had broken a bone or several, then there would be no moving him out of there, not on her own. And if he had broken his neck, then there was nothing she could do for him.

“Callum!” she cried, her hands landing on his chest, checking for any signs of serious injury. “Speak to me…Speakto me, are ye hurt?”

“Nay,” Callum wheezed, slowly breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I’m fine.”

“Ye daenae look fine,” Rhea pointed out. “Ye daenae sound fine.”

“I’m fine,” Callum insisted, pushing himself up on his forearms with a wince. “Truly, lass, I’m fine. It just knocked the wind out of me.”

That much was obvious, as he was desperately trying to catch his breath.

Ever so slowly, he managed to move and even stand on his own, and that gave Rhea some reassurance that he was indeed fine.

“Did ye hit yer head?” she asked. “I didnae… I didnae see what happened.”

“I was lucky,” Callum said. “Managed to land on me arm. But me arm isnae so lucky.”