Seth

"Are you completely incompetent? Can't you follow a fucking simple instruction?" Seth barked, swinging off the bike with barely restrained fury.

Her smile, that infuriating smile, vanished the moment he spoke. Good.

"Well, it wasn't exactly intentional," she muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

Intentional or not, it didn't matter. She'd pushed too far, too fast. Again.

"You were going 70 km/h the first time you were on the road. Seventy," he snapped, his voice louder than he intended. "You're out of your fucking mind." His jaw clenched, a tension that rippled down his neck and into his chest.

He didn't want to care. Didn't want to feel this roiling storm inside him every time she did something reckless. But he couldn't stop it. She had her hooks in him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tear them out.

Her smile returned, bright and smug, cutting through his frustration.

"Come on, admit it—you're a little impressed," she said, her tone practically dripping with pride. "I mean, I was bloody amazing out there."

Impressed? She thought he was impressed? His chest tightened, the anger boiling hotter, threatening to spill over.

"Impressed?" he said, his voice sharp, almost mocking. "Impressed over what? Nearly killing yourself? Is that what you want to celebrate?"

He saw people passing by, glancing their way, but the rest of the world might as well not exist. All he saw was her, standing there with that maddening defiance in her eyes, refusing to take anything seriously.

"If I can't trust you, we can't continue," he said. "I'm dead serious, Freya. What you're doing—it's reckless. It's dangerous. You're not thinking. Not about yourself. Not about anyone else."

He had to say it. Because the thought of her ending up hurt—of her lying broken somewhere because of her arrogance—was unbearable.

"You're the one who said I wasn't living, remember?" she said, her voice rising as she stepped toward him. There was fire in her eyes now, and it ignited something dangerous in his chest. "You're the one who said I didn't dare to do anything. And now that I show you what I'm capable of, you're furious?"

She took another step, so close now that he could see the faint tremor in her hands. "I'm not your fucking girlfriend," she said, her voice sharp, her words slicing through him. "You don't get to throw me around and decide what I do with my life. Do you get that?"

Seth's breath hitched as he closed the distance between them, his body moving before his mind could catch up. Their faces were inches apart now, her anger meeting his in a clash of heat and tension.

"No," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "You're not my girlfriend. Thank God for that. Poor bastard who ends up with you—I feel fucking sorry for him already."

The words tasted bitter in his mouth even as he said them.

Her gaze snapped away from his, and she spat on the ground. "Fuck you," she snarled, shoving him hard in the chest. The force pushed him back a step, but he held his ground, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Is that it?" he said, his voice low, taunting. "That's all you've got? Come on, Freya. Show me."

Her face twisted in frustration as she lashed out, her fists pounding against his chest. Each strike was weaker than the last, her breaths coming fast and ragged.

"You fucking bastard," she choked out. "You come here, and you ruin everything. You ruin my life!"

Seth didn't move. He let her hit him, her anger colliding with the storm raging inside him. When her fists finally faltered, he caught her wrists, his grip firm but steady.

She tried to pull free, but he didn't let go. Her breathing was uneven, her chest heaving as her eyes darted to the ground, refusing to meet his.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled her closer, until her head rested against his chest. Her body trembled against him, her sobs breaking through her defenses.

He held her there, his heart thundering against her ear, as she fell apart in his arms. He glanced around, hoping no one else was watching this moment—this raw, fractured mess they'd created.

But when her sobs cut through the air, something inside him cracked. A small, unsteady piece of his heart that he hadn't realized was hers to break.

Freya

"Aah—just give it up, Freya. You're never going to win. Oh, Freya—don't ride so fast, you might hurt yourself. Blah, blah, blah," she muttered under her breath as she stomped toward Nova's paddock. Her fists clenched at the thought of him. How the hell had he managed to worm his way so deeply under her skin? Beneath every layer. Beneath her armor.

He was ruining her life. That much was obvious. But why did she care so much about what he said? Why waste energy and tears on it? She couldn't understand why his words got to her the way they did, leaving her frustrated.

She slipped Nova's halter on and tied the lead rope into makeshift reins. Guiding the horse to the fence, she climbed up and swung herself onto his bare back. Together, they left the stable area, her anger slowly ebbing with each step.

This was the best way to clear her head. There was nothing like being surrounded by the quiet of the forest, the chirping of birds, and the steady rhythm of hooves on the dirt. This was therapy—real therapy. A hundred times better than some overpriced therapist charging $100 an hour.

Even though Seth had completely wrecked her mood, a faint smile tugged at her lips. He challenged her. Pushed her in ways she didn't want to admit, ways that made her feel accomplished—even if it was only to prove him wrong. Reckless or not, she'd done it. And they hadn't even been training for long. With a little more time, practice, and confidence, she was sure she could hit 150 km/h. Way more than he'd ever manage on the back of a horse. No contest.

She let herself drift in her thoughts, her mind settling into the soothing rhythm of hooves and birdsong. But then, something broke the peace—a new sound woven into the melody.

She and Nova were no longer alone.

Who would've thought that when she turned her head, her heart would hope so desperately that it was Seth riding behind her on a horse? But that was a hope that didn't even exist. Because, of course, it wasn't.

Freya snapped her head forward again, her eyes darting nervously. Caleb was riding Ash, his dapple-grey Arabian horse. All the peace she'd felt vanished in an instant. Her heart picked up speed, pounding harder with every second.

They were on a dirt road cutting through the forest, the path winding farther and farther away from the stable. If she wanted to return, she'd have to pass Caleb. But the thought of being chased down while riding bareback wasn't exactly appealing.

Nova's ears flicked attentively, tracking the sound of the horse behind them. Freya closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply to steady herself. Not a chance. She wasn't going to run. She wasn't going to put Nova in more danger because of her goddamn ex-boyfriend.

Nova came to a halt at her signal. Freya turned him on the trail, and together, they began walking toward Caleb and Ash.

Hello, my lovely readers <3

A big thank you for all your excitement and engagement with The Dark Ride!

I'm having so much fun bringing this story to life for both me and you. Thank you for all the sweet and hilarious comments—they truly mean the world to me.

Love,
Kenna.