Third Debt (Indebted #4)(61)

I’m freaking.

I’m terrified.

I’m beyond exhilarated.

I couldn’t remember the last time something affected me so piercingly.

Even Jethro?

Well, apart from him.

It seemed the older I grew and more jaded by life I became, the more I lost the heightened extremes of newness. No longer enjoying the catapulting happiness or devastating lowness. These days my highs and lows were more hills and valleys rather than mountains and chasms.

But looking down and seeing the ground far below, feeling the unyielding metal stirrups beneath my borrowed boots, and the leather reins in my hands, I’d never been more alive. More joyous.

This was Christmas on crack.

This was birthdays all in one.

I own her.

I own this majestic animal.

I couldn’t sit still with excitement. Leaning forward, I patted Moth’s beautiful grey neck. From up here, I had full view between her ears at the rolling fields and sweeping dark forest.

Kes led his mount from the stables and swung his leg over an inky black horse. Its coat gleamed in the autumn gloom, its velveteen nostrils flaring with huge gusts of breath.

Before Kes could get his seat, the horse skittered sideways with a clatter of hooves.

“Whoa, you damn animal.” He jerked the reins, forcing the horse to submit.

“Who’s that?” I asked, clutching my own reins as Moth tossed her head at the fiery beast prancing beside her. Her flanks rippled with indignation.

Kes’s face pinched in concentration. He swatted the horse with his whip as it bucked and nickered. The horse’s ears flattened, eyes rolling in a mixture of hell-bound fury and eagerness.

“This is Black Plague. He’s technically my father’s horse, but he’s in-between purse races right now. He always gets like this if he isn’t trained every day.” He stroked the pitch-black pelt. “Don’t you, boy?”

“Rather you than me.”

“Plague definitely isn’t for beginners.” Raising his eyebrow, Kes pointed at my helmet. “Check that it’s on tight. I’m not a conventional teacher and need to make sure you’re protected.”

I laughed, forcing a finger beneath the strap below my chin, showing him that if it were any tighter, I’d choke. I also waved at the bracing corset he’d made me wear, along with the borrowed jodhpurs and boots. “Completely protected.”

I felt like royalty—an equestrian princess who knew exactly what she was doing.

I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.

For the past hour, Kes had taught me how to clean out Moth's hooves, curry her coat, saddle her, tighten a girth, and slip a bit into her mouth.

So much to do before going for a ride and so much more to do once we returned.

But every single thing I adored.

I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy than standing in the stall listening to Kes's deep voice as he joked and teased and congratulated me when I copied correctly.

He was patient and kind and we got along easily. Being with him made my heart weep for Vaughn. The ease in which we chatted reminded me of the relationship I’d had with my twin.

My heart also cried for another.

A rolling black cloud shaded me whenever I thought of Jethro.

He should’ve been the one teaching me.

He should’ve been the one laughing and joking and kissing me in the hay.

I hadn’t seen Jethro today, and the lovesickness I suffered whenever I thought of him became a constant sabre to my chest.

How could I love someone with so many demons?

How could I love someone who didn’t share those demons with me?

I don’t have a choice.

If I did—I would choose Kestrel. He was kind and sympathetic. He made me feel better about myself, rather than condemned me to fear.

“Who are you, Kestrel?” I asked before I had time to censor myself.

He stilled, his hands tightening around his reins. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you seem to have a gift at hiding whatever you’re thinking—just like your older brother. However, unlike him, you don’t seem afflicted. Jethro responds to you. He obeys you when there’s tension and looks to you for help.” I squinted beneath my helmet. “Why is that?”

Kes lost his smile, filling with seriousness. “Do you know what he is yet?”

His question slapped me.

I know about black diamonds and absorbing. I know about feelings and pain.

“I’m beginning to understand.” Moth shifted below me. “I don’t have a name for his condition, though. Do you?”

“I do, but it’s not my place to name it.” He laughed softly. “Come back to me when you’ve figured it out. When Jethro tells you what he is—I’ll tell you who I am. Fair?”

No, not fair. I doubt he’ll ever tell me.

Tipping his helmet in salute, he added coyly, “However, there really isn’t much to tell about me. I’m an open book.”

Kicking Black Plague, he moved forward. Moth automatically followed. The clip-clop of hooves echoed off the kennel as we left the stables behind.

The rocking of Moth and the sheer power of her muscles sent fear skittering down my spine. What if I had a vertigo attack and fell off? What if I didn’t steer properly and we ran into a tree?