Peyton's Ride (Riding With The Hunt, #1) by Jennifer Van Gunten Page A

from what I hear.” A teasing lilt colored her voice.
    He blew a deep breath from his nostrils and bobbed his head.
    “Alright. Calm down.” She clambered up his shoulder, muttering beneath her breath about the strangeness of her evening. The firm muscles of her thighs settled around him, and she grabbed a handful of his mane. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to fall off and bash my head in. Been years since I’ve been on a horse.”
    “You will not fall. As long as Ian wishes it, you cannot fall.” Connor slapped his flank. “It’s good to have ye back, old friend.”
    He snapped his teeth at the redhead and danced away. Connor was too close to her.
    Warmth from her bottom and legs seeped into him through his coat, and she relaxed her weight, settled more comfortably on his back. The chime of tiny bells floated through the air, and every man raised their head, irises lighting up with their magic as it responded to the call of the Wild Hunt.
    Finally. He took two slow steps, grappled with the magic of the Hunt, let it seize them both, and leapt through the side of the building with his friends and Manannan Mac Lir on his heels.

Chapter Seven
    U ltimate freedom. The night wind tore her hair from her face, the roar of motorcycles vibrated through her ears, her whole body alive with energy. Magic. If she glanced down, she saw a gleaming black and chrome machine between her legs. But with a small push, the motorcycle disappeared, and instead she saw the muscular withers of an enormous horse whose coal black mane whipped around her fists in a silken caress. His gait was so smooth, she never jostled.
    Checking to her left and right, they were surrounded by his friends. Each one of them disguised by the glamour the Hunt settled over them all.
    Worries over the dealership, Howie’s death, and her own disappearance nagged at the back of her head, but she couldn’t ask Ian because he was...well... a horse at the moment. He understood her fine. But she didn’t speak phooka-horse. Horse-phooka? Were there dialects? Maybe he spoke plain old horse. Although that didn’t make it any easier for her to speak with him, now did it.
    Daegus had said that she had to drink and claim a mate...that sounded awful permanent. Did she want permanent? What was she doing ?
    Holy crap. This was all so freakin’ nuts. She’d wanted a place to belong, and knowing the Fae were real, that she was Fae, that she did fit in somewhere had been a revelation she’d been waiting for in the back of her head her whole life. But did she want to claim a mate? She’d done marriage once before, and that hadn’t gone well at all. Boring sex, angry, unsatisfied husband who ditched her for a younger, more exciting model, and finally divorce. Then she’d spent years caring for her mother. Her whole existence had revolved around other people’s wants and needs. When did she get a chance to just do what she wanted to do?
    But she’d drunk from the cup. She’d heard what Daegus said before she drank from it. Maybe that meant she wanted a mate after all. Why else would she do that? She could have refused to join the Hunt. The change from human had already started. None of them forced her to do it. Even when Ian’s friends circled her, they’d only looked at her. No one had tried to touch her. Even though they were enormous and intimidating, they’d all smiled at her and seemed to be more interested in goading Ian.
    Oh Ian...naked Ian was something to behold. Never in her life had she seen anything like him. And he’d been enraged, ready to rip his friends to shreds. She’d walked to him willingly, clambered up on his back and was happy to be there.
    She’d walked straight to him, not one doubt in her mind. The doubts only came now, when she started thinking about everything. Was she over thinking?
    That kiss...the way he held her...promised to never leave her...and Daegus said she chose her mate.
    Was it really all up to her? Maybe she