At dawn, Greyhaven’s stables were dressed for ceremony.
The mountain beyond them waited in cold silence.
Horse breath clouded the aisles. Snow air slipped through every open door. The polished order made the danger ahead feel almost rude.
Banners hung over clean stalls. Noble horses wore silver fittings. Servants carried fur-lined cloaks while courtiers compared bows they were unlikely to draw.
Albert waited beside a gray gelding.
Evelyn stopped.
The horse lifted his head at her scent and gave a low sound.
“Storm.”
He stepped toward her.
Five years disappeared in the movement of his ears and the white mark above his nose. Evelyn remembered summer roads, Albert riding beside her, their hands meeting when no one watched.
The mate bond warmed.
Albert stroked the gelding’s neck. “He
