Please note: English is not my first language, so there may be occasional grammar or language errors. I appreciate your understanding and hope you enjoy the story!

Freya

"Thank you all for meeting with me today," Elisa said, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

Freya's heart pounded violently, a relentless rhythm that echoed through her entire body. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself. Something was wrong-she could feel it in the stale air that hung in the stable like a storm cloud.

They had gathered in the main stable, nearly all the riders present. Freya's eyes swept over the group, taking in their pinched expressions and worried glances. They all felt it too.

The familiar scent of sweet hay, dry sawdust, and horsehair mingled with the anxiety in the room. The horses, blissfully unaware, chewed their breakfast or stood dozing in their stalls. A radio murmured soft music in the background, but the notes barely registered in Freya's mind.

"I appreciate your patience over the past year," Elisa began, twisting her fingers together. "I know it hasn't been easy, living with so much uncertainty." She paused, her eyes glistening. "But I have to tell you-the stable has been sold."

The words crashed into Freya like a tidal wave. Her breath caught in her throat. A collective gasp rippled through the room, a shared pain that tightened around them like a noose.

Elisa swallowed hard. "I've spent so many wonderful years here. This place has been my heart, my passion. But that chapter has come to an end."

The silence was suffocating. Freya's pulse roared in her ears, and her mouth went dry. The question clawed its way out of her before she could stop it.

"Will the new owner keep the stable running?"

The room froze. All eyes turned to her, their fear reflected in her own. The only sound was the faint, tinny music from the radio.

Elisa hesitated, her voice cracking. "As far as I understand, he doesn't plan to."

The floor seemed to shift beneath Freya's feet. Her worst nightmare was unfolding before her eyes.

"Everything... gone?" Her voice trembled. "Thirty horses losing their home? And what about us?"

A cold weight settled in her chest. The warmth of the stable-the place she'd loved, the place that had been her world-drained away, leaving behind a hollow chill.

"I wish I had better news," Elisa said softly. "But we've been running at a loss for years."

Freya's head shook slowly. Her ears buzzed, drowning out the rest of Elisa's words. The truth was out. There was no escaping it now.

The cool morning air hit her like a slap as she stepped outside. Spring was creeping in-flowers peeking from the roadside, birds singing in the trees-but Freya couldn't feel the promise of warmth. She wanted everything to stop. To freeze this moment before it slipped away forever.

She trudged across the yard, past the hay shed, the riding hall, and the outdoor arena, until she reached the paddocks. Nova's sleek black form rolled in the sand, his carefree movements a sharp contrast to the chaos inside her.

She ducked under the fence and sank onto a concrete block by a fence post. Nova lifted his head and walked over, his breath warm against her trembling fingers as he searched for treats.

Her hand traced the familiar path along his forehead, down the curve of his neck, fingers lost in his thick mane. He was more than a horse-he was a piece of her soul. They had grown up together, shared fifteen years of memories on this very land.

"What are we going to do, Nova?" she whispered. The gelding's muzzle pressed gently against her cheek, his quiet presence grounding her.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel behind her. Freya didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Danielle sat beside her, reaching out to stroke Nova's mane. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken fears.

"What's your plan?" Danielle asked finally.

Freya's lips curled into a faint, defiant smile. "Scare the new owner away."

Danielle chuckled, though uncertainty flickered in her eyes. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"You know me-I can be quite creative."

"Mhm," Danielle murmured, unsure if she should laugh or worry. "You should start looking for a new job, though."

Freya's jaw tightened. "Fuck- no."

"It's either that or you and Nova move far away and hope you find work at another stable."

The thought sliced through her. For twenty years, this stable had been her life, and for nine of them she had worked there. She'd started as a teenager cleaning stalls, turning out horses, feeding them. Gradually, she'd become a riding instructor, event organizer, and manager. She didn't want a lifeless, soul-sucking job. Here, she was free.

But where else could she go? There were no other stables big enough to offer her work.

They walked back across the yard, boots crunching on the gravel. The slope led them to their little red house. The peeling paint, boarded-up windows, and broken steps didn't matter. They had fought to buy this place, and it was theirs. Just a few steps from the life they loved.

"Who's that?" Danielle asked, nodding toward a sleek black motorcycle parked near the stable.

Freya's gut twisted. She had a feeling she knew.

They stepped inside the stable, the air tense and chilled. A man stood with his back to them, studying the bulletin board. His black shirt stretched across broad shoulders, muscles defined beneath the fabric.

"Can we help you?" she snapped.

He turned slowly, a pair of piercing azure eyes locking onto hers. His jet-black hair framed a face that was too handsome, too confident, too sure of his place in her world.

"I'm Seth Harlow," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "The new owner of this property."

Freya's gut twisted, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. This was the man who thought he could erase everything she loved, everything she'd built.

Her voice came out cold, sharp enough to cut.

"I'm Freya Lynn-stable manager and your worst nightmare."