Page 42 of Dallas Rivals

Then we sprint together toward the stables.

We work in rhythm.

He claps the horses awake, slapping their haunches to make them move.

I undo every latch I can reach. One by one, they gallop into the storm.

When the last one’s gone, I turn and he’s looking at me.

For the first time since I’ve known him, he smiles.

Not a big grin, just a quiet, honest curl of his mouth.

But it lights up his face and God help me, he’s even more beautiful when he’s human.

The wind dies.

Just… stops.

My stomach twists. The air feels wrong—too still, too heavy.

His smile fades, eyes cutting past my shoulder, wide with panic.

He grabs my hand, his fingers iron-tight.

“Run. Now!”

“Where—?”

“Just run!”

We sprint. My lungs are on fire, my heart slamming against my ribs.

“Not the stable!” I yell. “It’s not safe!”

“No time!” he roars.

I make the mistake of looking back.

Lightning splits the clouds again, and for one frozen heartbeat, I see it—a thin, silver funnel twisting down from the sky, graceful and terrible, stretching toward us like a finger from God.

My stomach drops to the ground.

I don’t think—I just run.

He yanks the stable door shut behind us and jams the lock in place.

The wood creaks, groaning like it knows what’s coming.

He’s already searching, frantic, eyes darting through the shadows.

“What do we do?!” My whole body’s trembling. My heartbeat’s too loud to ignore.

“Here—come here!”

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me toward a metal pipe that runs along the wall.

He ties a horse rein around my middle, then loops it tight around the pipe, securing the knot with a chain.