The pungent smell of hay and horses was strong in the air; the kind that tickled the nostrils. Rows of sturdy wooden stalls filed along the walls where horses whinnied and nickered and steadily clopped their hooves against the ground. The caretakers of the stable paraded about the place, carrying bundles of fresh hay and buckets of water to tend to the needs of their four-legged wards who wouldn't stop snorting and snuffling.
Rydar meandered into the stable area. He hadn't intended to end up there, but that was where his feet took him after he'd turned his back from the lovebirds, literally.
How was he supposed to survive the next seven days with Elara in such close proximity, and the firestorm in his bones in the name of emotions?
A chestnut mare made a distracting whicker that pulled
