Chapter 24
The soft hum of the tablet filled the quiet room as Lucien scrolled through the latest racehorse data. “Damian’s horse, Hurricane, is a true champion—last year’s Dutch Championship winner, with an exceptional pedigree and peak condition. He’s determined to claim victory again this time,” Lucien remarked, his eyes scanning the stats intently.
I leaned closer, studying the report on the upcoming Royal Equestrian Charity Cup. The image showed Damian embracing his prized horse, a proud grin lighting up his face. It was clear how much Hurricane meant to him.
Lucien’s stable had entered the race as well, but none of his horses seemed to match Hurricane’s caliber. My gaze drifted to a small, almost overlooked snippet on the webpage’s corner—a black racehorse housed in a nearby stable, notorious for its wild temperament. The horse had injured multiple trainers and was deemed untamable. The grim news was that it was scheduled for euthanasia at four o’clock this afternoon.
A sudden, impulsive thought struck me.
“Take me to that stable,” I said firmly, rising and pulling my coat tighter around me.
Lucien frowned deeply. “Norah, that horse is dangerous. You don’t have to do this.”
“I have to,” I insisted.
When we arrived, the stable owner, a grizzled man with a cigar clenched between his teeth, gave me a quick, appraising look. Then he gestured toward the isolation pen where the black horse was thrashing wildly, rearing and neighing in frustration.
“That’s Onyx,” the owner said, exhaling a smoke ring. “Vet’s coming at four to put him down. If you can catch him and get a halter on before then, you can take him for free. If not… well, prepare for the injection.”
Lucien grabbed my arm, his concern clear. “Norah, please don’t—”
I shook him off gently but firmly, signed the waiver without hesitation, and pushed open the gate to the pen.
Onyx immediately spotted me—the intruder in his domain. The horse snorted sharply, pawing the ground, then charged directly at me with terrifying speed.
I didn’t flinch. Instead, I studied his movements carefully and sidestepped just in time as he thundered past. One charge after another came, each more furious than the last. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as Onyx’s wild attempts to strike me failed repeatedly.
The stable hands chuckled at my seemingly futile efforts, but I remained focused.
Outside the pen, Lucien gripped the fence tightly, brows furrowed in worry. The stable owner glanced at the clock—ten minutes to four—and waved toward the approaching vet carrying a box. “Almost time. Game over.”
I saw the vet nearing and, in a sudden act of defiance, unbuckled my belt and flung the metal buckle far into the corner of the sandy enclosure.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped slowly toward Onyx. The horse froze, his sharp eyes locked onto me, muscles tense but still.
I stopped a few feet away, crouched low, and extended my palm, humming a soft, soothing melody.
The rhythm of Onyx’s breathing began to change. The fiery rage and stubborn defiance in his eyes softened. Tentatively, he took a step forward—and then another.
To everyone’s astonishment, the once untamable beast approached me fully, lowered his head, and gently pressed his damp nose against my hand.
I stood, slipping the reins over his head. Onyx stood quietly beside me, nuzzling my arm in a rare moment of trust.
A smile spread across my face as I led him out of the pen, leaving the owner staring in disbelief. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.
Lucien hurried over, his expression a mix of admiration and surprise. “Norah, you never cease to amaze me.”



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