Freya

Freya steered the bike between the orange cones, her movements smooth, balanced, and completely in control—or so she thought. Her hands gripped the handlebars tightly, her focus darting between the road ahead and the mirrors. She'd mastered the brakes and throttle, and even the gears, far beyond what she had expected. The new bike fit her perfectly, its size and weight aligning with her every move. A smile had been etched onto her face for hours now, one she couldn't hide even if she tried.

She refused to doubt herself anymore. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe—no, to know—that she had just as much of a chance to win this bet as Seth. Hell, maybe even a better one. The adrenaline coursing through her veins only fueled the thought. She liked this.

She liked the way the bike felt beneath her, how it responded to her commands like an extension of her own body.

It was a thrill she never thought she'd enjoy.

"What are you thinking?" Seth's voice pulled her out of her reverie as she stopped the bike beside him.

"I'm thinking I'm fucking amazing," she said, grinning as she pulled off her helmet. Running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair, she felt the satisfying exhaustion in her muscles.

"Mhm, not bad," he replied, his eyes dropping to the ground.

Her grin faltered slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Something in his body language—tight shoulders, a clenched jaw—made her uneasy.

His gaze flicked back to hers, sharp and unreadable. "Nothing. You're good, but don't get your hopes up."

"Why the hell shouldn't I?" she shot back, her voice laced with pride and defiance. "The day this bet is over, and I look into those crystal-blue eyes of yours while I rub it in your face, will be the best day of my life."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Was that a compliment?" he teased.

"Eh, no," she said quickly, flustered. "I just meant I can't wait to see your eyes well up with tears."

He chuckled darkly. "Well, don't get too confident. I might just surprise you—with Nova, I mean."

Her grin returned, bolder now. "Don't worry. I've got more faith in myself now than ever."

His smirk vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a sharpness that made her stomach tighten. "Yeah? Well, don't forget you're still on a fucking parking lot," he snapped, his voice rising unexpectedly.

The sudden harshness caught her off guard, making her flinch. "Jesus, calm down," she snapped back, throwing him a glare.

He didn't respond, but the tension radiated off him as he stalked toward his bike. With quick, jerky movements, he snatched up his helmet, shoved it on, and started the engine. The roar of the motor cut through the silence like a knife.

"If you're so tough, then let's see you ride home," he called out, his voice cold and taunting as it carried over the growl of the engine.

The challenge left her momentarily stunned, her hands tightening instinctively on her handlebars. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest as the weight of his words settled. He actually wants me to do this.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her voice to stay steady. "It's only five minutes. I can handle it." Her pulse raced, not just from nerves but from the thrill of the unknown. She wasn't just leaving the safety of the parking lot; she was stepping into a world with other vehicles, faster speeds, and real risk.

Seth revved his engine, the sound vibrating in her chest. "Deal. But don't even think about pushing it. Keep your speed under control. Do you understand me?" His visor lifted just enough for their eyes to meet, and the intensity in his gaze sent a chill down her spine.

She gave a curt nod and slid her helmet back on, gripping the handlebars as the bike hummed to life beneath her. The low growl of their engines created an almost eerie harmony as they pulled away from the lot.

The bike rolled forward in first gear, her movements steady but hesitant as they approached the main road. Her heart pounded like a drumbeat in her chest, the noise almost drowning out the growl of the engine beneath her. Cars zoomed past in both directions, their weight and speed sending waves of air that pressed against her. She tightened her grip on the handlebars, her gloves creaking under the strain.

She took a deep breath, glancing to her left, then to her right. Her reflection in the side mirror caught her off guard—wide eyes behind the helmet, a face she barely recognized. This is it. No backing out now. When the last car passed, she twisted the throttle carefully and eased the bike onto the road.

The moment the tires met the asphalt, it was as if the world tilted. Holy shit. A surge of exhilaration and fear shot through her veins like an electric current. The bike moved smoothly under her, responding to her every command, yet it felt as if it had a mind of its own. She gritted her teeth, her body tense, her senses heightened to the hum of the engine, the rush of the wind, and the faint scent of rubber and gasoline.

She shifted into second gear, her movements deliberate and shaky at first. The bike surged forward, the speed crawling up to 40 kilometers per hour. The trees along the roadside blurred slightly as they passed, their shadows flickering over her vision. It was terrifying. It was thrilling. She couldn't tell where one emotion ended and the other began.

Her breath hitched as a car approached from the opposite direction, its headlights flashing in the corner of her eye. She stiffened, gripping the handlebars tighter, her heart hammering in her ears. The car passed with a gust of wind that rocked her slightly, but the bike held steady. She exhaled shakily, a laugh bubbling up despite herself.

I'm doing it. I'm actually doing it.

She shifted into third gear, the motion smoother this time, almost natural. The bike glided forward like it had been waiting for her to trust it. Fifty kilometers per hour came easier than she expected, the speed wrapping around her like an addictive drug. The road ahead was mostly straight, the horizon opening up with the kind of freedom she hadn't known she craved.

Wind rushed against her body, catching strands of hair that peeked out from under her helmet. The sensation was sharp, almost cold, but invigorating. The trees along the roadside blurred into streaks of green, their rustling leaves a soft whisper beneath the roar of her engine.

Her confidence grew with each passing second. She dared to push the throttle further, feeling the bike's power vibrate through her bones. The speedometer climbed, and so did the grin beneath her helmet. The road was hers, the world hers, for these fleeting moments. Nothing else mattered—not Seth, not Caleb, not the stable, not her past. Just her, the bike, and the open road.

She risked a glance in the mirror. Seth was close behind, his helmeted figure an imposing shadow on her tail. Even without seeing his face, she could feel the intensity of his gaze.

But she wasn't stopping. She wasn't slowing down.

Her hand twisted the throttle harder, and the bike roared in response, the engine vibrating against her legs. Her heart raced, a mixture of euphoria and recklessness taking over. She shifted up another gear, the motion fluid now, as if the bike had become part of her. The road disappeared under her tires faster and faster, the wind screaming in her ears.

This is it. This is freedom.

The thought hit her like a jolt, sharp and clear, as the bike surged forward. For the first time in what felt like years, she wasn't weighed down by fear or doubt. The thrill of being in control—of mastering something this powerful—sent a warmth through her chest.

But then, a shadow of doubt crept in. A faint voice in the back of her mind whispered, You don't have control. Not really.

Her breath caught. The bike wobbled slightly as she adjusted her grip, her eyes darting to the mirror again. Seth was gaining on her now, his figure growing larger as he closed the gap. She could feel his anger radiating toward her, as palpable as the wind whipping against her body.

He was furious.

The gravel drive leading up to the stable came into view, and she forced herself to ease off the throttle. Her fingers moved deftly on the clutch as she downshifted, the engine's growl softening into a low purr. The rush of speed gave way to a strange, aching emptiness, as if the thrill had left her too quickly.

She turned onto the dirt path, the bike's tires kicking up a cloud of dust that swirled in the rearview mirror. Seth was right behind her, his engine roaring like a warning.

Freya couldn't stop smiling, though. Her face ached from the effort, her cheeks burning beneath the helmet. She had done it. She had ridden on the road. And it had felt incredible.

The bike slowed to a stop in the parking area near the stable, the final rumble of the engine fading into silence. Freya swung her leg off the bike, her heart still racing, her body alive with adrenaline.

Behind her, Seth skidded into the lot with a sharp turn, his back tire kicking sideways on the loose gravel. The sound of his bike cutting off was almost deafening in the sudden quiet.

Freya turned to him, the grin still plastered across her face. She had done it.

But one look at Seth's stormy expression, and her stomach sank.

She realized the thrill of victory might not last long.