Lyra leaned into Chasing Wind's rhythm, her body moving in perfect harmony with the powerful animal beneath her. The morning air was crisp against her face as they completed their warm-up lap around the private track at the Covington estate. She'd come early, hoping to avoid the usual drama that followed her everywhere these days.
"Just one lap," she murmured to the horse, stroking his gleaming neck. "Let's not cause a scene today."
Chasing Wind nickered softly in response, as if understanding her desire for peace. The stallion had been her refuge during the tumultuous weeks since her identity as Iris had been revealed. On horseback, she wasn't the illegitimate daughter or Percival Covington's mysterious wife—she was simply herself.
